Tag Archives: Books

Berlin and junk

The old Berlin Wall and a pair of Reebok kicks.

I’M sitting in a kitchen in an apartment Berlin with nothing to write about. Well there’s a bunch to write about but I’m short on time – my girlfriend and another mate will be back with rations for dinner and some beers in the next 10 minutes so I gotta be quick. We’ve been here for a few days now and haven’t done a lot. We’ve had plenty of sleep because technically our bed is in an attic of sorts. You can’t stand up in the room and I’m hesitant to even call our mattress a single. But its super dark so you can’t tell what time it is, which results in wake-up times of about 11am on average (apologies if you’re reading this and are currently employed). We visited the East Side Gallery (a stretch of remains of the Berlin Wall that have been painted over), the memorial to the murdered Jews of Europe, a museum-y kinda place regarding the Nazis and their dirty deeds (which is appropriately situated on the former site of the Reich Security Main Office of the SS – the organisational centre of most of the Nazi regime’s heinous crimes and terror), and the Reichstag, among other touristy places. Other than that I’ve just been taming mega coffees to beat the cold, drinking longnecks here and there, and eating a bunch of sushi, which I’ve been lusting after for the past few months (Portugal, Spain, Morocco, South America etc. are lacking in the Japanese goodness). Continue reading


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Eating well, sleeping well

THE Netherlands. I knew nothing about the place before I got here last week. To be honest – and this is a little embarrassing – I wasn’t sure whether The Netherlands and Holland were separate or the same country. Why the different names? And then why is their language called Dutch? Shouldn’t they all be speaking Netherlandish? Or Hollandaise, like the delectable sauce? Admittedly, the only thing I knew about the country was that it contained Amsterdam – a place I’d heard loads about (hasn’t everyone?) but didn’t know which of this constituted fact and which was exaggerated drivel. Prossies, cafes where you can legally buy and consume potent weed and mushrooms, live sex shows.  I’d heard from some friends the city was a must-see, an elegant and chic fantasy-land where anything goes, while other mates told me it wasn’t worth the exorbitant prices and masses of tourists, and if I went, not to spend more than two days there. Well I went, and I’m still here (this being my fourth and penultimate day) and I can see both sides of the argument. I thought I’d break down my stay for you, share some of my experiences to broaden your knowledge about the oft-discussed metropolis. Continue reading


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Beat It

Burroughs and Kerouac. Photo: guardian.co.uk

I’M typing today’s post from a room a hotel in Tangier, north Morocco, where Beat Generation icon, lover of fine heroin and gay sex William S. Burroughs wrote his famed novel Naked Lunch. His good pals Jack Kerouac (one of my favourite authors) and Allen Ginsberg used to stay here too when they came to visit Burroughs, so in theory I could be sleeping in one of the rooms the latter guys used to frequent (Burroughs apparently stayed in room number 9, I’m in no. 6).Unfortunately I won’t be able to channel any of the genius of these three gurus in this humble post, but I thought it was about time for an update – internet access has been scarce and I’ve been reduced to the odd internet cafe visit when I find one (rare), rather than my usual daily hostel/hotel room creep on the laptop. Anyways, I’m conscious that in my last post I may have given off a bit of a negative vibe about my first few days in Morocco. I was left with a sour taste in my mouth during three separate incidents (that’s what she said) involving sketchy locals, one of which I thought for a second was going to turn violent (lesson for the kids: drug dealers are in most cases bad guys, despite their often friendly demeanour). But since then we’ve experienced only good days, albeit days lacking action or intrigue. Yes, it’s been another of those laaaaid-back weeks, filled with cheap good food and sleep-ins that’d make even a fat lazy thirteen-year-old in his school holidays jealous with rage. Continue reading

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1 down, 54 to go

TODAY is July the 15th. This means I haven’t eaten meat for 365 days. I’ve noticed that people often become a bit stand-offish when others get preachy and push their views on them without having asked for their opinion. I could tell you all the reasons I became a vegetarian and why I think it’s a winner but I’m not a preachy guy. Plus I can’t be bothered with a back and forth debate (like I see on Creepbook all the time). So all I’ll say is I like being a vegetarian, and I read a good book last year that you might like too (pictured above).

P.S. I´m still hanging around this little surf town in Panama and internet access is few and far between. Will update this thing soon.

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J to the BA, part one

BUENOS Aires is big. Fuck off big. With 13-million peeps living in the city – the second largest metropolitan area in South America – saying there’s a bit going on in town is the understatement of the year.

A lot’s been packed into the first few days in the “Paris of South America”. Continue reading


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