Well the first one is not public yet and I have'nt got to writing the last one up , the first will not be till I get home and share first with my friends and family over a beer, especially my mum those I have caught up with have heard it... though will say...Malaysia,, brunie oil guy,,money, a flap of a butter fly's wings, a sense of relief on abus leaving the counrtry,I have never felt before and I hope I am never in a similar situation hoping for that feel ing again...and never play cards kids , not even snap,I refer to it as the "Kaula Lumpa Incident" 20 hours of travelling after that, arriving in Brussels, Backpack left in London had been left in london,tired physically and mentally, very little money to my name and the girls I am staying with also I get the day wrong.... and of course I dont have thei phone number....thank god for duty free whiskey... but the next day thety came for me streamers and all, bless,we went an saw a concert in Brussels, Xavier Rudd,and I got pickpocketed, after they left.... no money,no cards for access to the little I did, key to the house gone and an estimated 50 euro taxi from the address I had written, and the chances of a fellow Tasmanian over hearing ... I made it back to the house before the Helena and Lina, a little ray of sunshine thrown into this little gust of wid that I write..............
Always look at the little things in life for before that effort ,whilst in Borneo, a frog saved me because by stoping and looking at it I avoided armed poachers, guns and machete, coming down the path in the early hours of the morning, before they headed back into the National park jungle,only maybe 15 to 20 metres from me,the Headlines at home flashed before my eyes, hug trees people and they will look after you back, I got to play twenty Quiestions with park rangers on reporting it that afternoon,
Week into england and working in a village, after a week in Belgium, an old back injury takes me down, unable to walk reallly for a week, and still bad after that for two weeks, undescribible pain, two months later it tickles me still daily,
But on the way from there to here, I am in Amsterdam for ten days , for medicinal purposes of course, whilst on a train from Denmark into Germany, welll I ended up sleeping in huge cemetery in suburban Munich, the walk there,in Darkness, being led under local advice at 2am, didge raised in the air slightly at the shadow leading me as I start to realise I am being led into cemetary, but it is the quietest in the world he tells me , how did I find myself here? was staying there dodgy... or the full story of how I got there?
Are any of these dodgy? Some are written up in my log to some degree, as I said though the first will come later, the last will be written soon, and it's funny just yesterday I explained the word "dodgy" to my friend from Germany who I am staying with in Amsterdam and tonight I notice a section requesting dodgy stories....
Crazy, but its true
and I wonder about "six degrees of seperation" stories is ther a section for that? Chris Roy
? When will the craziness end?
Where do I start?, Define Dodgy?
Jul 31 2006, 06:27 PM
