Ramblings of the travelling nature

Well this is the first of hopefully many blogs coming from the white isle of sunny Ibiza. Having being here just on a month now and what an up and down month it’s being. The stress of finding a job and a apartment while trying to keep the money low and then the excitement of the opening parties, mates arriving and the fact that it’s not just going to last for weeks, but for months!!

Jetted into Ibiza from London with a banging handover and just couldn’t be bothered doing a backpacker thing and jumping on a bus so opted for the taxi and was whisked away to Sant Antonio to my hotel where I had booked a weeks accommodation so I could settle in and find my feet, a job and an apartment....all in that week. Well I might have being a bit naive thinking that I could just cruise on in and have it all sorted within a week, sure didn’t work out that way though.

I tried not to come to Sant Antonio with any pre conceptions as it does have the reputation of being a little Britain and overrun with English chavs, slapper girls and more Irish pubs than you can poke a stick at. Although being advised to steer clear of the area I had too give it a fair go and go check it out for myself before deciding which side of the island to stay on. Well it wasn’t far off from what people had told me with the centre being packed full of English, Irish, Scottish Bars and the lonesome Aussie bar. Having arrived so early before the party season had started there where just Brit workers but even they seemed to chav it up and having witnessed a fights, vomit and random people passed out; quickly decided this was definitely not the side of the island for me; I put up with all this shit at bars back in London, don’t really need to haul myself through it again. In all fairness though the Sunset Strip along where Café Mambo and Café Del Mar are is quite nice and watching the sunset over the ocean, marking the beginning of another crazy night is a sight to behold!

So having decided not to spend my summer in Sant Antonio, I didn’t really need to look for a job there so spent the rest of the week exploring the island and just generally baking in the sun before moving over to the other side of the island and to Playa Den Bossa where I was staying in another hotel to continue the job search.
This side of the island, for me, is wicked as there aren’t too many English; mostly Spanish, Italians and Germans, most of the clubs are here and it has the longest beach on the island as well having the main town of Evissia (Ibiza Town) which you can practically get a bus to anywhere on the island from.

After a couple of days of dropping my resume off and talking to the bar managers, I managed to get a trial an Italian Bar called Bar Minimal.
I did come over looking for bar work but most of the bar jobs are either given to workers that have worked past seasons or Spanish speakers and most of the jobs on the island are for PRing, which is basically handing out flyers and trying to get people into your bar. Looking at it now I would rather do PRing than bar work as the hours are alot better as you finish around 1am and can party on down afterwards, but god it’s hard work......well for me anyways as I’m not the greatest communicator around and would have to be the worst job for me as that’s what I gotta do all night.
Well I only worked at Bar Minimal for about a week or so, it was so quite as the season still was a bit off from starting and still alot of families and oldies around, and only brought in one table all week!!! Well thinking that I was just absolute shite and how the hell can I survive with a job that for me is really hard, I geared up the job search again and found another job in Playa Den Bossa at a bar called FunKafe doing the same thing.
I’m still working there and have survived the 2 week trail, so must be doing something right and am bringing in tables even though it is still slow. It’s quite a cool bar [edited by request of FunKafe], so think I will probably stick it out there for a while, plus I get worker passes to every club so I can get in for free!!! How wicked is that!

Well in the 2 weeks of job searching I absolutely forgot about the fucking apartment search and with the original idea of me just being Mr Independent and finding my own place with some other randoms being scrapped for the much better idea of staying with my mates from London how were due to arrive in one week I had to find a place for all four of us. Jesus fucking christ, this was so stressful I think at one point I was ready to leave the island, hell Ibiza ain´t meant to be like this and here I am stressing like a mofo and still not being paid from my job and spending money on basic stuff and still costing me a fortune! Well after an endless number of phone calls, false viewings and non English speaking agents I managed to find a place right in the heart of Evissa that could fit all four of us and 8 others.
So here we are now all living in a ex lounge room on the first floor of an apartment block with our very own terrace off our room, TV, fridge, sofa and everything else a group of workers could need. The rest of the flat is quite cool, another four bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and a kitchen all with mostly Spanish and Italian people which is quite cool and all secured one day before Tilly and Jayne were to arrive, fuck they definitely owe me a beer or three!

Now was the time I could start too chill out, my mates had arrived, had a job of sorts and a place to sleep it was time to see what this island really had too offer.
Having finished work, we all went out and got pissed at a Brit pub (Ironic?) on €10 jugs of vodka Red Bull before moving onto an Irish pub (Even more Ironic??) and taking a dip into a hotel swimming pool and the ocean before watching the sunrise for another day over the Playa Den Bossa. I did manage to break my camera and with there being no camera repair shops on the island have had to do an old super glue jobby, so if some pictures look way too zoomed out or vise versa, that will explain it
So much crazy shit happens over hear and it ain´t even kicked off yet, god I don’t know what’s going to happen in a couple of weeks when it’s peak time...eek!!

For those of you who are clueless to the inner workings of Ibiza I’ll give you a quick run down....
Basically people come here to get absolutely ratted for normally a week of hardcore partying at the various clubs across the island which are Space, Pacha, El Divino, DC 10, Amnesia, Privilege, Eden & Es Paradis. Privilege is the biggest club in the world and Space is open every morning and night except for Mondays and the rest are just massive.
The ´season is´ from the middle of June through till the end of September / start of October and then all the clubs except for Pacha shut for the winter, with the peak being July & August where apparently the islands population triples.

I’ve only manages to check out a few places so far as most have only just opened and some open in a couple of weeks and am trying so hard at the moment to keep my €€s down. Managed to check out Pacha on Friday night for Pete Tong´s opening party and Space´s opening party on the Sunday which was just out of this world and is pretty much the ´official´ opening of Ibiza, it only goes up from here. Imagine a 22 hour party starting at 8am Sunday morning and finishing at 6am Monday, countless rooms inside and a massive outside terrace!! You really can’t describe it, it is just madness.

So nothing too crazy as yet, although I am starting to see what I am in for and it looks fucking fantastic. I’m really glad I got here quite early as I have had a chance to check out the island before the hoards of people arrive and before I am too exhausted; it is actually quite a beautiful island and with my mates now been here and the parties about to begin this summer is going to be an unforgettable experience.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/2966657

Well it was a long time coming, having wanting to hire a van & scoot along the English coastline to see some surf & the mighty Atlantic and finally managed to piece it all together in the last couple of months left with my time here in London. What a perfect time to reflect on what I’ve done and achieved over here and how I’ve grown as a person & more bloody importantly what the fucks coming round the corner, not just on the road but the journey I’m on.

That’s a bit fucking deep right there isn’t it, Jesus!!. Must be Mr Johnson playing in the background tinkering with my brain waves.

Now being the independent type of guy I am, you might be thinking I done a roadie all by myself. As much fun as that would be it doesn’t really make a roadie a roadie now does it, although I nearly ended up doing it solo, as it seems that pickers just seem to migrate to me wherever I go, but one can through on here word and that was Jayne, a fantastic mate and also a bar wench at Ministry.

So just the two of us aye, well sure that can still be a roadie of sorts…can’t it? Although the idea of a can full of drunken gits pulling practicals & just general chaos kinda gets simmered down and it mighten be packed full of testosterone madness it could still be a blast, right?
Well after having a few reservations, just for a couple of seconds, Jayne also brought up the magical idea that we’ll just pick up hitch hikers & randoms along the way…...well fuck then Jayne pack your duvet and lets hit the road!

The Friday rolls round & it’s time to pick up our new home for the next week over in West London. On the Tube ride over I was feeling strangely nervous, like first date butterflies, bloody hell I haven’t driven for two years and I’ve been known to contract road rag from the footpath by some of the just outrageously stupid manoeuvres that UK drivers pull. It’s wasn’t made any easier knowing that I have to navigate right through Central London in post peak-hour traffic all the way over the East London, eeek!

Was met at the station by the Aussie bloke running the gig, Dennis, and also the beast of a car I had to control for the next week. Now this thing is probably the biggest thing I’ve ever had to drive, since I was driving back in Aus a considerably smaller Corolla.
Well with the nerves certainly far from quashed, Dennis proceeded to take me round the car showing me all the bits & bobs and the damage from previous motorists who couldn’t control it and finishing up at the cracked windscreen, blimy what am I getting into.
Thankfully Dennis left me with the keys and wished me on my merry way before retreated back inside out of sight so I could try and back the thing out of the car park. Well I might not be some kind of car buff, but I’d like to think I know where the gear stick is, where the hell was the bloody thing, after scanning over the usual areas where a gear stick tends to hide and spending a good 5 minutes pulling, pushing, pressing and generally tinkering with anything that could move I suddenly hear the noise of a reversing single to what I thought was originally a school bus reversing but infact was my car preparing to reverse! Well there you go, the gear stick that looks EXACTLY like the wiper lever. After feeling slightly embarrassed, I complete my ten-point turn out of the car park and on my merry way which was surprisingly easy as the car practically drove it self with everything being automatic and all.

I should tell you a little bit about the car. Basically it’s a Toyota people-mover (perhaps not quite the beast you envisaged) fitted out with a double bed with some storage underneath that converts into a nifty little table inside and a sink and ‘kitchen’ at the back. It does get cooler though, the panels of the van have being spray painted with graffiti artwork!! We got the ‘Spinal tap’ van with conjures up thoughts of bizarre, bloody, medical experiments but is infact a band of sorts, so had the band members with there token monster on one side and the band logo on the other with the word ‘Wicked’ slapped on the front and ‘It’s a long way to the shop if you want a sausage roll’ sprayed on the back which I believe is a take on a 80’s rock’n’roll song rocked out by AC/DC.

So rocking on my way to East London was surprisingly easy, nothing too much to worry about except for speed camera, pedestrians, mopeds, buses, cyclists, trucks, pigeons, school children and straying into the Congestion Charge Zone, piece of piss really. After navigating my way through the hell that is London I had made it to my flat, ahhhh, no dings or anything not even a wisp of road rage in the air...…that was until I try to remove the key from the ignition. Simple task you’d think but the bloody thing wouldn’t budge and after resorting to calling my flat mate and Jayne for some advice I decided to go back to my tried and tested method of tinkering with anything that can god dam move. After a few ‘tactical’ jolts the car relinquished its grip on my keys and I was free to start packing.

Having stuffed every conceivable item of clothing into my backpack and heaving it along with some bedding into the back it was time to start heading out of London & go pick up Jayne…in South London. Now it’s probably not the best of things to admit but I think I packed more than Jayne did! With no weight restrictions I just thought to take it all, turns out I only changed a couple of times the whole trip.
With the car full & brimming with fuel it was time to set of on our way...…the wrong way round the motorway! After that little navigational hick-up we started heading towards Hastings on the South East coast with a few diversions along the way through a private fly fishing lake & some dusty back roads. Arriving in Hastings and too what was my first sight of a British beach; cascading waves, seagulls and a beach full of pebbles, no chance for sand castles here kiddies although we did see a penguin, well I though it was, Jayne though it was a sea bird of sorts, ahh yes Jayne sea birds do swim underwater.

Deciding not to camp up in Hastings for the nights we brave the ‘Alligator Spikes’ at the car park exit, to which I though all 4 tyres where going to simultaneously explode on contact, and headed to Camber Sands which is quite the holiday hot spot for the Brits in the summer. So after nearly careering of the hidden edge of the pebble dune and into the surf below, we bunkered down for our first night in a dark car park which weirdly had had the gate left open. Turns out Jayne can get quite paranoid, now I’m not easily frightened but when she starts blurting out thoughts of axe murderers outside ready to push up over the edge of the dune, I can’t help but be a tincy bit ‘alert’ and it wasn’t helped by the fact that it’s not only a holiday hot spot but also a lovers hot nest with more activity in the car park than the local brothel. Having making it through the night unscathed, cold but unscathed I awoke and opened the door to the most beautiful sight of the sun rising over the beach straight into the van filling me with warmth and happiness…before being slapped in the face with the stiff cold gale, I retreat back to the relative warmth of the van to don my snow jacket and see where the hell we are.
After sorting out shit out and delighting in a baby wipe shower we try to give our little cooker a burl & brew up some tea. Sounds relatively easy and quite refreshing after a hard nights sleep, but after a good 30 minutes of boiling and reaching the temperature of warm babies milk and unable to wait any longer it was time to polish off out luke warm tea and chomp down our All Bran before packing up our little table and chairs and head off – next stop Brighton… with Jayne driving

We were both pretty excited about getting to Brighton. Not only had we heard some really cool things about the place but it was also a Saturday night and was planning a biggin at the best club in town, The Honey Club. After finding a lush parking spot by the seaside we headed for the pier to check out the well doggy rides and have some fish and chips before retiring back to the van for some pre drinks and getting ready for the night ahead.
Feeling like shit after dousing my hair with a bottle of drinking water to try and ply my hair into some kind of presentable style, which inevitably looked like shit and with Jayne looking hot after a few strokes and teases and a shit load of spray we set off to what was going to be the night of the trip.
Once inside it felt like I was in Ibiza, although never being there, it just had this really cool vibe about it, then again it could have being the stilt walkers, the beach out the front or the fact that I was off my face and thought I actually was there, either way a great feeling all round and a wicked crowd. Well I’m, sure some really cool shanadegans happened that night, having a bit of trouble remembering it all, but with Jayne being Jayne and gets talking to bloody everyone we set off with this group and head to the Funky Budda Bar, also on the beach, before heading off to a hotel to continue the party. By this stage I think I’m, just a wobbly mess and pass out somewhere. Upon awaking & realising where I was, NOT in the van I made a mad exit shouting “Which way to the beach?” before running down the street and trying to find our van which I hoped to god hadn’t being towed as the parking meter ran out 3 hours ago, I wasn’t in any state to deal with such a situation. Well I found the van, not before a couple of heart skips after thinking I’ve lost the bloody thing, but instead of loosing the car I had lost Jayne. Oh well she’ll turn up I thought as I peeled the parking fine off the window and opened the sunroof before curling up into a ball in the back.

Well as luck would have it Jayne did turn up , thank god, as I needed a trusty navigator to get me out of this town, and before I could say “Which way Jayne?” she was reclined & sound asleep! Bitch, here I am struggling to keep my eyes open and with everything fuzzy and swaying unusually too much and I’m about to hit a 90 m/ph motorway! Well let me tell you, that was a white knuckle ride; not for Jayne anyway who’s in the corner muttering and sound asleep. Cars everywhere and trying to keep in between the ever narrowing white lines with traffic roaring past either side and the sun blinding my eyes all made worse by the temperature fluctuating up and down like a 50yo woman in menopause. I just bypassed every damn town and headed to the end of the motorway to Poole, wasn’t going to stop for anything.
There I am white mouthed from dehydration, sweating like a mofo and still clutching the wheel for dear life, what do I need I thought...…a shower!! ohhh yeah a shower. After 3 days on the road and a big night out under my belt I was a sticky mess and needed to wash all the filth away. Having not really thought about the whole shower situation before setting off I thought that a caravan park would do the trick and cure my urge, so I open my trusty map to find that I’m stuck right smack bang in the middle of two separate maps, joy!, well as least I thought I was, didn’t really have a fucken clue where the hell I was until I saw a sign saying ‘Rocky’s Leisure Village’.
Being a bit dubious at first following a sign saying Rocky’s Leisure Village, I think the word ‘Village’ was the most off putting and the fact that a guy called Rocky was running the joint, my urge for a shower overruled everything else and I set off down the road. Fortunately for us it was nothing sinister, just deserted, no one around, the whole office had being left open and all. So making the most of the opportunity I had a bit of a peek and walk around till I found a map out the back showing the shower blocks. You beauty! Well being winter the shower blocks were locked and right there the shower desire crushed.
With Jayne in the back now, and muttering “Where are we?”, “Just go to sleep already!” I decide to draw a close on the shower quest, for the night anyway and follow the sign towards the ferry. Well turns out the ferry goes to France and the next day we awoke in the French seaside resort of Cherbourge.

Only joking, instead just pulled up in a car park by the sea and bunkered down for the night.

Well for fuck sake Jason, I do go on!! Must be 5 pages already and I’m only up to SUNDAY!! Jesus Christ!
I’ll try and keep it short and sweet from now on.

For those of you still conscious…the saga continues………

After a wicked night sleep and feeling as good as gold, it was time to hit the road again. Destination Torquay in the South West.
Having a quick stop on the way for Exeter at West Bexington for what I thought would be a perfect opportunity to take a dip and freshen up, also happened to be a prime location for fisherman and hikers alike and with a massive inshore gutter deemed it probably wasn’t the best idea to do for a dip. So back on the road and heading for Exeter with Jayne at the wheel I was actually feeling slightly nervous at her driving, then again I’m just glad she wasn’t awake the day before to see me driving. Now I don’t have anything against women drivers but when you driving at 60 m/ph with your little pinkie controlling the beast one can’t help but fell a tiny bit nervous, unless it was of course the whole I’m a man and I should be driving and the lady knitting, ape urge taking over in me not that apes could knit mind you and didn’t want it turning all girlie now, think I drew the line with the Madonna CD which I disturbingly knew the words too all too many of the songs, think mum had something to do with that, cheers mum!

Anyhoo! Long story shot, get to Exeter, Jayne backs into a bollard, I get angry and go eat some pizza before we go to the leisure centre to wash off and after a bit of backyard mechanics on the boot where on our way to Torquay, with me driving of course

Torquay seemed like quite a nice town, shit all to do though like most of the other town we have been too along the coast, with the exception being Brighton. Got there around 5:30pm just as the sun was setting, hardly a drinking hole in the place little lone any activity. So we decide to keep on going straight through to Plymouth. Well low and behold nothing to do here either and since we are now in range of our maps I spot a little peninsular called Torpoint which seems like it could be a hive of activity. Well maybe I was delirious after driving all day but nothing out there except for windy roads lined by thick hedges and after a quite surreal ferry ride across the bay to get there where I exclaimed “Jayne! There’s a house on the ferry…with a roundabout…and street signs…oh..wait” before realising that indeed it wasn’t another ferry it was infract the land and our ferry had being moving for quite some time, well think it was about time to get some zzzzz’s.
So after quite literally driving round this peninsular multiple times for 2 hours we finally found a quite little pub and camped up in there carpark for what was to be the most bizarre night.

Was about 1am when I woke to the sound of car doors banging closed, wondering what the fuck was going on I stuck my head out the door only to be confronted by someone shinning there torch in my face then walking off! Absolutely speechless, and the fact that I thought we were about to get done for parking in a disabled parking space, I retreated back inside and peeled the curtain back to have another gander.
What was originally a deserted carpark when we arrived was not filled with 5 black Mercs and about 7 people walking with torches to the end of the rocky outcrop. Well not one wanting to go through this ordeal by myself I woke Jayne & told her what the hell was going on, to which she wasn’t too delighted about and pretended to go back to sleep. After this things just started getting really weird and bizarre. The guys walking with torches got onto a large boat, likened to a Coast Guard boat, that picked them up and motored across the water to about 50 meters in front of the car and shined a super bright flood light on the van! What the hell was going on here, Alright alright I’m not a disabled driver, I’ll move already if you really want me to. If they were Police surely they would have knocked on the door and asked us too move off or something.
I did manage to confirm that they where Police as when the group returned after there little cruise they were talking on the 2 way radios saying the registration had check out and it was OK.
Thinking that the ordeal was over and falling back to sleep, I woke again about an hour later to the swirl of blue flashing lists illuminating the van, god they are quite serious about the disabled community out here, even if it was 3am in the middle of nowhere. So after the thoughts of being towed into the bay or a SWAT team coming through the sunroof, I got thinking that maybe it might have had something to do with drugs, seeing as we were at a gateway to France on a dead Tuesday morning. Well fellas, hate to break it to ya, but I don’t think drug traffickers go driving round camping out in vans that you can spot a mile off with its snazzy paint job and all.

After waking in the morning and realizing we weren’t in the middle of some kind of exclusion zone we decided to head straight to Newquay as that must the where all the action is and we really had to get a move along as it was Tuesday already. Torpoint is absolutely amazing though, I liken it too Jurassic Park Island, minus the dinosaurs, with its massive cliffs overlooking the wide ocean and rolling green hills. As this was our first taste of Cornwell (a region of South West England) & dying of hunger as only eating pizza about, ooooo 20 hours ago we stopped off at this wicked little café on the beach and tucked down a full proper English Breakfast along with a absolutely proper milkshake, fucken delicious!

So wanting to get to Newquay as soon a poss we zoomed off and headed to the other side of Cornwell, the Atlantic side and the surfing city of Newuay. I could definitely live in a place like Newquay, well maybe retire there when I’m an oldie and if I had to live in England, can’t give up the big smoke just yet. It reminded me to much of home with the salt air, beautiful scenery and the relaxed atmosphere.
To make the most to the fresh salt air, without freezing my tits off I decided to go go-karting, as did Jayne after a bit of convincing and with karts that can reach 70 m/ph on a 1.2km track what a perfect way to lap up the salty surroundings. Well I only reached 40 m/ph…...was the kart OK, broken I think, but sill beat Jayne, so that’s all that matters really hehe.

After finding another lush parking spot, this time overlooking a rocky outcrop with a house and mini suspension bridge on top and the beach and Surf club on the other, we had a few drinks and headed off to tuck down some Mexican. Not having a giant stomach and wanting to let my hair down for the night and get shit faced I tucked into my half of the delicious prawn nachos and polished off the bottle of wine while Jayne finished off her 3 courses. I actually got quite intoxicated that night, unusually fast and after a heated discussion about guys wearing pink shirts and god knows what else, it was time to make a move before things got too heated; and what a life when you can relax in your van, looking up at the stars and sipping vodka while listening to some electro beats. Well somewhere in between the sipping, looking and listening I dozed off and awoke feeling like an absolute shit bag and not wanting to deal with the fact that we had left the car on all night to keep the tunes going and probably ran out of fuel by doing so, I decided to go for a bit of a dip in the Atlantic for the first time ever!
Having only got to waist deep water before I couldn’t feel my toes I dived in only to have the breath knocked out of me my the shear cold and surfaced to feel the numbing effect rapidly engulfing my legs. Certainly a sure fire way to freshen up.

Well that was it, our Cornish experience was over as we had to drive all the way back up to Bristol if we were to have any chance of getting back to London on time. I reakon you could spend a good solid week just driving round Cornwell, it doesn’t even feel like your in England anymore, is such a contrast from the typical English life I’ve seen and lived.
So after Jayne relieved herself in front of the car in the middle of the street, such a classy lady! We started the long journey up to Bristol through Dartmoor National Park, which ain’t like any national park I’m use too, just the opposite. Basically barren land with rocks and a few sheep scattered about; where’s the lush rainforest with tall oak trees lining the roads and wildlife jumping across the road guys??

With Bristol being the next stop we arrived in the arvo to peak-hour traffic and having already being in Bristol before had a slight idea where we were and drove up to Clifford, the la-de-da pompous part of town to find a park for the night. With every park we’ve had for the night on this trip we’ve always had a wicked view of something, but unfortunately all the parks overlooking the Clifford suspension bridge and gorge were all taken, so retired to a park in one of the side streets for the night. Not that it would have mattered as before heading out for another big night we decided to have a wee bit of a kip before the festivities. Well after a good 17 hour nap I woke to realised that I had indeed missed everything that night, not that Jayne was jumping out of bed to go out either!

It was now Thursday, just one day before we had to return the van. So after a spot of shopping we made out way towards the university city of Oxford where we planned our next move and scrubbed up for our return to the big smoke. The plan was to meet up with our mate Ibz and have a night out, Essex style! After picking up Ibz and venturing out to Southend-on-Sea where the Thames River starts, we decide to have a banging night in London town & park the beast out front of my flat before walking into Shoreditch for some boozy fun.

Well maybe I went a little too boozy as after having a couple of hours sleep it was time to get on the road again as we have to drop the van off by noon. No time for even a shower and I was right outside my own flat, right outside!!
It was time to tackle the London traffic again and not in the greatest of conditions managed to get through well, all be it pissing off a few people along the way.

That was it, it‘s all over, as time during the whole week had gone nice and slow, we had already caught the London Rush Syndrome and time was starting to speed out of control again.
Having unloaded all our stuff from the van it was time to say goodbye and drop it back off with Jayne following along behind we set off for the depot. Well after a bit of a fuel emergency on the motorway we dropped it off to Dennis who instinctively noticed the semi-circular depression in the back of his van straight away, and too top it off was handed a bus lane fine for driving in a bus lane literally 2 minutes after picking the van up. Oh dear what else was too come?

So that was our road trip, fucking awesome if you ask me, perhaps a little too rushed and too much time to reflect and think. Learned some interesting things about Jayne and got to see some beautiful countryside and coast line and picked an absolute stella week to go as there was no sight of rain, with sunny warm days all week and the week after our return was pissing down rain and snowing in London! Might have cost us a bit more than anticipated, but was worth every penny……

Driving in a bus lane: £100
Parking fine after a big night out: £30
Reversing into a unbeseen bollard: £300
Litres upon litres of Fuel : £290

Number of U-turns manoeuvred………countless

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/2604958

Well the beer drinking began before we had even boarded the plane with an intended quite night out at the Walkabout, now it has to be said I don’t frequent this place (despite evidence in past blogs) but it seems to be the thing I do before I board a plane, even though I absolutely loath the place. On wakeing both Rodrigo and myself where hit with the worst hangovers we have both ever had, was really quite strange both of us having the same symptoms when we didn’t really drink that much. Well it lingered around all day and having to fly, train and walk to the campsite and upon arrival put up 100 tents in searing heat was not really the best conditions for shaking it. Now I don’t just go around pitching tents for fun we managed to hook up with another tour company and help out for food accommodation and beer!, kind of like Pamplona but without the beer and less work

Well after passing out in out tents and missing half of the briefing it was time to meet up with everyone working there. Too say the least they where in interesting group, about 25 of us with the majority Aussie and so much testosterone in the air you could cut it with a knife. So after the pushups with included claps and the conversations about anal leakage we’d pretty much worked the group out and headed to bed, although they weren’t all wankers there where some pretty cool people among them.

It was up at 7am the next day to pitch the rest of the tents, only a couple of hundred which managed to take all day then as night fell the drinking games begun with the obligatory pack of nudy cards and the madness begun. When I was enquiring about working for the group he mentioned there would be a couple of free beers but in fact it was one better with a whole fridge of cold ones and pretty much as much as you can drink, nothing better than getting pissed for free.

Having finished most of the work the previous day Roddy and I headed into Munich city too have a look around. It was Rodrigo’s first time in Germany and as I already knew the women are all beautiful and it didn’t disappoint, absolutely gorgeous, the lot of em. We managed to stumble into a bank with what we thought was a drawing table and Rodregio started sketching out a drawing of him and I which was originally meant to have us holding a couple of beers until a shocked bystander asked if we knew it was for the Pope and we said of course we did and quickly made amends to us holding our hands up, personally I like the original idea and surly the Pope would, hell he’s got his own beer brand in Germany.
It also sporned the idea of heading off to Switzerland to see our mate Charlie who use to live in London and getting away from the campsite.
Upon returning to the campsite the drinking had begun and to be allowed to drink you had to lick mayo of a dildo (can’t you just feel that testosterone), needless to say I was thirsty and it had to be done as we all did, I still can’t help but wonder where the hell it came from though??
After the shirt naming ceremony, where I was named ‘doggy’ (I can’t remember how this came about) and Roddy named ‘Wax Off’ (which is actually quite clever when you think about it) it was then time to go on an all you can drink pub crawl around Munich famous beer gardens and meet our new friend the ‘stine’. Its all quite strange how the night panned out, one minute where chatting away to this group of Aussie girls then on the way to the next garden Roddy and I got split up but still had our respective girls, weather or not we went to the same beer garden I have no idea, then while moving to the next garden I loose the whole group and stumble into Rodrigo who was also lost, so in our drunken haze headed back to the campsite. While we were in Munich city we decided to head to Zurich the next day and leave the campsite and the free booze, a tough decision it was.

We decided to hitchhike from Munich to Zurich, that was before we went on the pub crawl and once the morning hit and feeling rather shady we thought it might be just easier to go some other way cheap! International travel from Germany to Switzerland turns out to be quite expensive, like 70 Euros for a 4 hour train ride!!! But as we where eating our German sausage bread some lovely lady saw us painting our ‘Zurich’ sign and suggested it would be easier to train it to Linadau on the border to Austria and much cheaper because it’s still in Germany. Now who would have thought there was a big arse lake down there with Switzerland, Austria and Germany on it. The thing was we had no idea where the hell Switzerland was and upon asking the rail man he kept on saying Austria and where like no, Switzerland. Turns out you have to go through Austria to get to Switzerland, who would have thought. Upon reaching Linadau we walked out of town to what we thought was the main road out when I man wearing a beer carrier on his head picked us up, clearly stoned off the planet he drove us closer to the border where we waited and waved our sign until another car pulled over…this time the police.
I didn’t realise and started to pick up my backpack and throw it in the back when I noticed his pistol and thought this ain’t right. Wells turn out they were friendly chaps and didn’t search out bags for drugs and firearms and told us a better road to get a lift to Zurich. So there we are standing on a German road waiting for a car load of Swiss girls going to a foam party to pick us up. No Swiss girls came but a Tom Cruise look alight did in his Mercedes decided to give us a lift all the way to Zurich when he wasn’t even going there himself!!! We even took him too the pub to buy him some beers and he paid for all of us! Ahhhh I love Germans.

So we made it all the way and caught up with our mate Charlie and it was still just early evening, it was off to Charlie’s house with a crate of beers to catch up and get ready for a night in Switzerland. Well Charlie did tell us that it was the total opposite to London, where instead of having one girl and a load of guys; in Switzerland there are groups of girls and no guys, what a wonderful place! Well a long night short; beautiful girls, expensive drinks and ended up at the other end of Zurich on the other side of the big lake with no money but did manage to sleep in a comfy bed, ohhhh so much better than the hard ground. The problem though was not lack of money as she paid my way home but the fact I had no idea where home was as we had arrived when it was dark. Thankfully I had a used train ticket in my pocket with the station name on it. After 2 hours of mindless travelling round Zurich looking for home I made it and turns out Rodrigo was still out and ‘lost’, seems like Charlie was the only one that went home the night before, I feel kinda bad about that.

After we had all made it back home we decided to go check out the Alps, so after grabbing a case of beer we headed on the first train east to where we thought the alps where; turns out they where further away than we anticipated so made a detour for Zurich Lake where we went for a swim in the chilly but crystal clean waters and swam amongst the swans. After polishing off our Swiss cheese, German sausages and beer we bordered the ferry for Zurich City. After being on the ferry for about an hour and only halfway it was getting kind of boring plus it was cold and dark, so we hoped off and jumped on a train where we managed to get fined for not having a ticket and sitting in first class, of course we didn’t have the 80 Franks on us each so instead they drained out wallets of both Euros and whatever Franks we had. They must have had some kind of ticket blitz that night as we where checked 4 times, but upon flashing our fine they took pity and let us continue. It was a cost I didn’t really need as my bank account was rapidly depleting and we hadn’t even got to Oktoberfest yet!
Friday night was a relatively cruisy night just heading out to a wicked underground bar for some laid back tunes and then having an early one in my sleeping bag in the attic on the wooden floor, nice.
I can’t even remember what we did on Saturday but Saturday night was planned as a biggie with the idea of heading to Zurich’s clubbing corner but beforehand some pre drinking turned into full on drinking games and needless to say my aces just weren’t showing up and I was well gone before even leaving the house. Upon meeting up with Loo, Rodgerio’s new girl, we jumped into a cab to what is the biggest club in Zurich apparently, Q Bar. Well it’s all a bit hazy but from what I can gather the line up was massive and we didn’t have any ID so never made it in, so ended up at a Latino bar at first which was; well, sedate and then to another bar playing old school rock classics which was well good and a good laugh.

Sunday was a day of rest and recovery and just veged out and watched some DVD’s, the plan was to catch a bus back to Munich that night but upon finding out the price and that fact that it got in at midnight and we where planning to camp in the park we decided to catch some rest and hitchhike back in the morning.

Monday morning rolls up and we set off on out journey back to Munich under a bridge leading to the motorway on a rainy day in Zurich where a delivery driver takes up to St Gallen, the next major town towards the Austrian border where he droped us off on the main motorway. We figure that this is a prime position as most of the traffic on the motorway is heading out of Switzerland, unfortunately the police didn’t as whilst standing there we hear sirens blaring and lights a flashing on the other side of the road and then across the overpass to eventually come and pull up beside us. They couldn’t speak a word of English and we just played dumb tourist and walked back up the onramp. We must have been in this spot for an hour when the same guy who had dropped us off there came back to see weather we had picked up a lift and offered to drive us to the border where nearly all traffic is heading to Germany. So after about 30 minutes at the border crossing a German art student offered to drive us just to the outside of Munich to the town where she lived and it hadn’t even been 1 minute since she had dropped us off before a Austrian guy offered to drive us near the area where we where wanting to camp.
It was so bloody easy and some really cool people, except for the Austrian guy, he was a bit weird but friendly none the less.
We managed to arrive back in Munich at around 3pm so enough time to find ourselves a campsite alongside the river. Unfortunately after walking the banks of the river for about an hour looking for a suitable spot we came up with nothing. The bush wasn’t really that dense to hide our tent and there where dirt tracks everywhere so we headed back to the original campsite before heading out for our first taste of Oktoberfest.

I had no idea what to expect, was thinking big marquees serving beer with a few rides and that. Boy was I wrong, these beer tents are proper building that are absolutely massive and the festival ground is like a theme park with tons of rides of all sorts. Getting there around 9pm we made our way to the Paulander tent as we had discovered it was the strongest beer and set upon finding a table to sit at. The thing with Oktoberfest is that they won’t serve you unless you’re sitting at a table, which actually makes perfect sense as the tent will never get overcrowded. Unfortunately for us the hall was packed as people where waving there stines in the air and dancing on the chairs, so finding a table was near impossible until a group of Aussie girls waved us down to join there table and before long where catching up to the rest of them. Since we got there so late we only had a couple of hours drinking time at is closes at 11pm, so it was time to head back to the campsite to continue the party, where we met up with a few people from the original tour crew until we drank the beer vending machine dry.

Well Tuesday was our Oktoberfest day, our only full day at the festival so we got in there early and after a couple of rides sat ourselves down at what was now out tent, the Paulander tent! The day just screamed past and we didn’t even leave the tent the whole day. First we bumped into those Aussie girls which was all a bit weird, then we where moved to another table with a German family as the table we where at was reserved and what an interesting family they where. The wife started hitting on Rodrigo while the husband was egging her on, then she took her pierced nipples out and tried to tongue him, all a bit weird really, but hilarious after about that point I don’t really remember what happened except that the family left and I had a new lot of younger Germans at the table and didn’t even realise that Roddy had disappeared. I was really expecting the place to be packed out with tourists and not the locals which was a pleasant surprise, although there was a tent that is just for Aussies etc aptly named the Pig Pen. Have no idea how I got home but managed somehow as I woke to a new morning, our final day in Germany before we headed back to London.

So we packed our bags in the morning and headed to the festival; backpack, tents and all to have our final stines. Well I got a bit too excited and drunk I bit too much and Roddy had to drag me away to make sure we made the plane on time (which we did mind you) but as we where having a beer at the airport an announcement came over the speaker with my name. Apparently I had lost my boarding pass in the airport and they had it!
Fuck I didn’t even know I’d lost it, thankfully they had found it and on the plane we went, I don’t think I would have been too worried if they didn’t let me board without a boarding pass, I just love Germany.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1916207

Touching down in Berlin after a short flight from London I needed to be in peak health as I had a solid week of partying in front of me, but far from peak health I was. After spending the last 3 weeks partying and drinking like there's no tomorrow, the consequences were starting to show. My whole body was feeling like a Raggy-Doll, a wickedly flemy throat infection had set in after the bout of diarrhea had gone and touching down sleep deprived and hungover after an absolutely disturbing night at the Walkabout i wasn't in the bestest condition for the greatest street parade on EARTH!

So after arriving it was straight to the hostel to get some well needed rest and try and shake the hangover as I was meeting up with Charlie who had moved to Berlin a month ago. Now you'd think that being in a city for a month you'd know all the hot spots, maybe it's just me, so after a bit of aimlessly wondering round and some helpful hints from local cafe workers we came across Adagio. It has to be said it look well swanky from the outside, red carpet and all and the inside being no different with the interior fitted out to look like a castle, chandeliers and all. Once inside and strolling round it clicked what was wrong with this place. It was packed and looking out onto the dance floor they all look like a pack of dead fish, just standing there wobbling and it wasn't until such hits as Peter Andre and the like where blasted out that the predominately old crowd started to loosen up and once the chandeliers started strobing the party was onnnnn. The whole experience left me feeling like I was in some kind of Adams Family music video.

Well after the waitress kindly pointed us to another establishment we where on our way...to a place that was closed
So after much walking we made our way to our final destination, the 24/7 bar, where Sambuca shots where to be had and dancing a plenty.

Having seen most of Berlin when I was here last year, the days pretty much consisted of lying in the park listening to my MP3 player trying to shake of the night before.

The next night was the official opening party for the Love Parade on Friday night...The Love From Above featuring Paul Van Dyke. Now as most of you probably know, I ain't a trance lover so the music was a bit well....yawnnnnnnnn, but fuck me the setup was insane. A massive rig full of screens and TVs and plenty of lights and strobes from all four sides, an absolutely well wicked setup and programmed extraordinarily well and with everyone amped for the parade the next day the vibe was awesome.

The day of the parade there was no rest to be had; up at 10am as I had to pick up the passesfor a place on the Ministry of Sound Germany float, that's right I was on a float in the Love Parade the day before my birthday, holly fucken shit is the big man looking after me or what. It must be said though that the passes where only secured at 4pm the day before, so much stressing and praying was done to get them.
Only 40 where issued per float and two bartenders from London who actually come from Australia who just happen to be at the Love Parade where there is a float by the company they work for HAPPEN TO GET PASSES, who the hell would have thought.

So up at 10 to pick em up and get ready for what is going to be a long and unforgettable day. The lucky other person who got a pass is Tara who was working at the club but left a month ago and she still got on. Anywho, enough about passes...let the parade begin.

For those of you that don't know, the Love Parade in Berlin is the largest street festival in the world celebrating dance music and having not been on for the last two years and this year having 40 something floats it was always going to be a big one + plus that World Cup and all the people on the come down from World cup fever the crowd ended up coming to an estimated 1.2 MILLION PEOPLE, of which I happily accepted where there celebrating my birthday as well, even if it was the day after :p

Well I’m not gonna tell you about every little nitty gritty experience, as there are way too many and I cant even remember half of them but the experience of riding on a lorry packed full of speakers, dancers and a DJ pushing through the crowd is one that I really will never forget. I can now on some kind of level understand the rush that DJs must get from the crowd, it's just awesome. You're like gods dancing down to everyone, getting looks of sexual intent and plan old booze sharing, raising your hand and the crowd in front doing the same is a absolutely intense feeling and one that I am so grateful to have had.
There are people at this parade from all over, some in outlandish costumes, some sporting and alarmly proud of there camel toes that are half eating there costumes and all there for the shear love of one thing...dance music. Where else in the world would a government let a parade run for 1 million plus people that celebrates this kind of music. Top stuff Berlin!!
I was planning on going out after the parade but my body had just about had enough, so off it was too bed to rest up and awake to a new day...with swallon ankles. Hmmmm never a good sign, so off I drag my sorry state of a body to the park where I proceeded to pass out for a good four hours and awake to all of my possessions still being with me. Upon getting vertical again and walking like a gimb for the first 100 meters it was time to gear up for another night out in Berlin town, this time it was off too Sage club where the party had being going on since 10am and wasn't about to stop any time soon. So here we are at a club with countless rooms, half indoors half out and down the back a POOL! For all those clubber that are getting too heated on the dance floor. What a nifty idea.
Well truth be told, I wasn't feeling the best when entering this establishment but once inside the music was extremely top notch. Have no idea what genre it was kind of hard German trance or something but was very tasty, that was until I hit the wall around 4am and couldn't move my feet no more, luckly the U-Bahn was on the roll again and wisked me reluctantly back home.

Monday was meant for a day of rest and re-generation before my flight in the afternoon but thanks to a midday checkout it was up and straight to the airport where the 5 hour wait for my flight started.
Before you start thinking, oh he's super keen getting to the airport 5 hours early. No, I’m normally the last one to check in, this time I was to experience my first cancelled flight as our plane was stolen, not by terrorist but by a plane full of Spaniards whose plane broke down and so of course ours was given to them.

Well I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to be stranded in Berlin with, turns out half the plane where coming back from the Love Parade and with Easy Jet giving us a bar tab of 25 Euro each and putting us up in a swanky hotel, couldn’t have asked for a better flight really and the plane trip the next day was great and a bit surreal as we all knew each other and had been mates for years, very freaky experience.

It has to be said, more for my memory sake, that the taxi ride to the hotel less than 500 meters away was absolutely hilarious which really shouldn’t have been such an experience.
After queue after queue we were all waiting in another queue for one 8 seat mini bus to take a plane load of 200 people back to the hotel. Then out of the terminal building come two rather posh English girls from our flight who proclaim that they will get a taxi and put it on there company credit card, before even saying "card" I was waiting at the taxi, not been a skiver at all :p but for the simple fact by the time this mini van had got us all there is will be time to go back to the airport.
So off we go in the taxi before realising we don't have a bloody clue where this place is, how many Holiday Inn's are there...apparently 5 in Berlin! and the driver not knowing a single one.
So to our delight the mini van ferrying passengers to the hotel drives past and sounding rather like an ad I’ve seen somewhere we command the driver to "follow that blue van". Turns out he didn't have clue what we where saying and stops 10 meters away in front of a blue taxi Bahhhh. So with my trained eagle eyes I thought I had traced the blue van in the direction it was going and we began giving stern hand gestures to the driver who was already starting to frey with his load of already hysterically laughing passengers.
Turns out he was not the most speediest taxi driver in Germany and we aptly lost sight, so heading in the 'rough' direction we found ourselves in what has to be classed as rural Berlin and with no idea of where we needed to go. Anyways one of the posh girls can to the rescue ringing some kind of directory assistance and then the driver entering the info into his little GPS machine with a rather angry look, as he realised that it was just across the road from the airport and we had been driving for at least 10 minutes, not a happy chappy that’s for sure. Well after his little road rage stint trying to kill us all we made it and managed to check in all but last. Was literally across the road from the airport and with the accent of those posh English girls getting all flustered I just couldn’t stop laughing, which I think the driver was talking the wrong way. I was laughing at the situation…seriously!

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1683921

With the first load of passengers expected to arrive round Midday Monday morning, the morning was just finishing everything off and getting ready to finally do some serious work. Couldn't really go too hard out as we had to drag our arses out of bed at 5am to feed everyone breakfast and I’m not the best at early starts and combining it with being in the kitchen ain't a good combo. The days now are pretty much for rest as we work at least 2 shifts a day and with the pool turning more manky by the hour , normally find ourselves retiring to a shady tree drinking piss before cooking up a feed.

Tuesday night was marked as the night for an absolute bender, as most of the passengers and vannies have arrived and ready to party hard. I was quite surprised by the choice of music the DJ's were playing, expecting some kind of RnB and cheesy pop, it was indeed hard house and euphoric classics not heard for years which everyone was really getting into.
The highlight of the night would have to be when Jo & Jacquie came in behind me and proceeded to grab my arms and legs and carted me off the dance floor and as I was off my tits looking up at a sea of green leaves and people peering down, was quite the mind bend. I did in the chaos loose my camera which I was a little bummed out about but was found by a fantastic search party who searched high and low, cheers guys!!

With a 5am start the next morning and managing to crawl into bed at around 4:30, myself and just about everyone else where in no state of mind to be cooking breakfast for 1200 people, even if they were just as shady and didn’t want to digest the fatty breakfast on offer. As I was late for the morning start the punishment was to cook dinner with the rest of the late crew for a bus load of passengers that where meant to roll up at midnight. So after cooking up some kind of deep fried fish dish, we waited and waited until it was announced that the bus had run out of fuel and would be arriving at 4am, Ahhh great! And with another 5am start and opening ceremony AND a security shift it was gonna be a long day.

Well it was time for the festivities to begin, and to start it all off was the opening ceremony held out front of the town hall. I knew the Spanish liked to party hard, but fuck me it was just madness with everyone packed into a plaza drinking sangria and popping Champaign and going nuts. Wanting to get right into the thick of it we pushed our way through the streets to the back on the plaza and just as we had found out primo position the crowd surges begin.
Having pretty much lost everyone as soon as we entered with only a few of our group insight before being whisked away in a surge. It was like currents in the ocean, all of a sudden you move 10 meters forward then once regaining your foot hold you’re off again and before you know it your right in the think of it, front and centre. We were swaying at 45 degree angles with out arms pinned to our sides and trying not to fall onto the bed of broken glass and crushing feet. During this time I was trying desperately to hold on to my beloved bottle of sangria until inevitably it got wedged between two burly guys and watched as it was taken away in the current. With my attention now off trying to retain my alcoholic beverage, I started thinking that this could be the ideal place for pickpockets. With this brain fart I did the token pocket tap only too find that I had become a victim, ahhh bugger.
It wasn’t such a bad lose though as I had taken everything out and just left 50 Euro in it and had luckily left my camera with Jacquie who never managed to get right into the thick of it, so managed to retain my camera AGAIN!

Having to cut the festivities short as I had my first security shift that night, I wasn’t the happiest camper around, but turned out to be a fantastic night.
Being on security just meant that you where a friendly face who can speak English and to help people out. My first location was outside the main gate to the bar where the Spanish police where stopping people bringing in drinks which was fantastic for me as I managed to get absolutely shit faced off people offering me there unfinished drinks, although I thinking that’s where I also picked up my nasty cold.
Next it was off to the DJ box which happened to be right at the peak of the night. This is where I realised how much power a shirt saying “Security” can have, girls seem to flock to the authority that the shirt portrays, although I didn’t really have much at all except for a torch to scare people out of the trees.

Having all of the next day off to recoup the energy levels, another big night was in order and as I had my first bull run the following morning I had a bit of a conundrum as too weather to get plastered or too be in my prime to tackle the bulls. A comprise had to be mad and the plan was to hit the sack early-ish. So starting rather early I filled my newly acquired water vessel with a vodka Malibu mix which was surprisingly tasty all be it extremely alcoholic and set off to find the tent numbers which were acquired the night before.
Now my memory is not my greatest asset and being able to remember numbers definitely not my fortay, so what originally started out as two numbers has grown into 6 variations and so the only option was to search all of them for the tents I was looking for.
After about half an hour all up of searching and awaking random people the right tents were found and by far one of the most embarrassing moments endured.

It happened on the morning of the Bull Run and not having any idea of the time, was interrupted by a tour leading doing her routine wake up call at 5:30am to get on the bus. It did get worse however as we decided to continue in our bliss and upon exiting the tent were greeted to a round of applause by half her bus and when asked which bus number I was on, I proclaimed I was with ground crew. Needless to say it spread quickly through the tour leaders and during breakfast I was aptly reminded of the goings on. Thank god most of them were leaving that afternoon.

So a fantastic night, but not really the ideal starting conditions for a life or death bull race, so after donning the whites it was off to the bus equipped with my sangria to Pamplona.
So this was it, after finding our position in front of the town hall on the course, my drunken haze quickly disappeared as the adrenalin started to pump through my veins. After taking in tip from past runners we felt pretty prepared and were anxiously waiting the first cannon to sound which signalled the release of the first pack of bulls.
After the first cannon sounded we ran just past Dead Man’s Corner to wait for the first pack to go past, which they did at quite a steady pace but the first pack aren’t the ones to worry about, it’s the second pack which has all the angry fuckers in it. Upon the sound of the second cannon in which the next pack of bulls are released we started bolting down the street trying to get to the arena before they passed us. At this point I could hardly breath as the adrenalin was absolutely intense and we had no idea where the bulls actually where, all I knew is that I didn’t want to get stuck in the small entrance tunnel to the arena as there is no where to hide and with the police beating people who were trying to jump the barriers there was only one choice and that was too go through the tunnel. Turns out they weren’t too far behind at all, as after about 5 seconds of entering a massive roar went up as the pack of bulls entered the arena, but now it was time for the real fun to start.

Once the running bulls had exited the arena the gates where shut and the smaller bulls released into the arena where everyone who has ran through the streets is gathered and is trying to get away from these angry guys, as one guy was killed the day before the adrenalin was peaking out and was so intense my legs where starting to turn to jelly, so I decided to jump to the sidelines & watch the countless people being flicked about. It went on for about 20 minutes before everyone left the arena to go and party in the street…however we had garbage duty that morning  Not quite the best way to relieve all that adrenalin.

With most of the tours leaving on the Saturday afternoon the camp was starting to empty and out security shift on Saturday night was pretty sedate, except for the capture and arrest of the “Nipple Sucker” and a few mattress throwing incidents.

The next couple of days we just packed everything up and said our goodbyes before out 21 hour bus ride back to London on the Monday night.

All in all it was a good trip, have met some fantastic people along the way even if I did pick up a case of diarrhea and a hell nasty throat infection and cold.
Would I do it again? Probably not with the company I did it with, way to many power trips and just no real organization with doing things at least 3 times the norm, but definitely the way to do the festival.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1659693

Well after having a couple of hours in London it was time to make my way to sunny Spain where I've managed to pick up a job for a backpacking company setting up tents etc. ready for the San Fermin Festival in Pamplona with the main attraction being the running of the bulls.

After a short flight to Bilbo we were put on a bus for the 3 hour trip to the campsite, I really didn't want to sit on a bus again after just spending a week on one! Not too mention the 20 hour bus trip back to London to look forward too.

After arriving at the campsite there was no time to pick your arse, straight into it, pulling out tables & cleaning everything that would be transformed into the mother of all camping kitchens.

This week has being some kind of time warp. The first half went by really slow, but not in a bad way & the second half has being screaming by. I think it's down to the cruisy days we've being having.

Basically a day is like this, well at least for the first week. Up at 8am, either cook in the kitchen for everyone or put up some tents, have brekky round 10am and then work for a few more hours before lounging round the pool round midday and dinner at 8pm after that it's time to get plastered. I could definitely take this lifestyle as a permanent thing I reckon.

There's about 50 of us working as a team to put up tents and get the campsite ready for the tourists who start to arrive tomorrow. They're all a pretty cool gang, although there's a couple of people on power trips but that's too be expected and a shit load of Kiwis, more than Aussies for a change.

Pretty much the first 4 days we were putting tents up, about 500 of the little buggers!, and just getting to know each other and trying to remember some names, I have trouble remembering a couple little lone 50 of them and it ain't made much easier when the beer bong made it first appearance on Monday night, pretty much wiping my brain clean. Monday was also the day we made a trip to the supermarket where we all just basically stocked up on alcohol, pretty much leaving the place dry of any intoxicating spirit.
On Thursday I was put in charge of the Aussie BBQ which went down in smoke and glory. I've never seen a BBQ produce some much bloody smoke, it didn't help that there was a total fire ban that we forgot about which meant the snags had to be moved inside to the grill, not very Aussie now is it

As we had made light work of the tents we were rewarded with a trip up to the local bar in Mendigorria & a trip to Sans Sebastian the following day.
Sans Sebastian was on the Friday and what a wicked costal city it is. Two bays with some nice beaches adorned by beautiful Spanish girls and little side streets through out the city to get lost in. The funniest thing was that Kel and I where walking round for a far while trying to find a traditional Spanish restaurant that didn't speak English but ended up at a restaurant where once we finished our meals relised that it was actually French! I guess the "La" should have given it away.

Friday night also played host to the Ground Crew talent quest, in which we took the second place crown. Our talent being drawing with someone else’s arms while they are hidden behind your back, very hard to explain but I guess quite visually appealing.

Saturday was more tent erecting and that night where taken into Pamplona to check out the course and to plan out route plus check the city out. I don't thing I relised before, but most of the track doesn't have fences you can jump over, it's just building either side and too get out of the way you need too clamber up drain pipes or the like. But not one to be deterred easily I'm still ready to give it a go and after seeing the bulls today I'm still ready to throw myself down the gauntlet.

Well the first lot of passengers arrive tomorrow and everything is going to be different round the campsite, shit load more people and more of a party vibe so can't wait and with around 2500 people arriving in the next 3 days it's gonna get full on.

Let the madness begin!!!

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1659693