Las Vegas ... Oblivion - the vampire's lair

Las Vegas (USA)
22 FEB - 25 FEB 2011

It's the phoenix of the Mojave desert, an almost mythical place that hides on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada, a city that when mentioned in the back bars of Los Angeles almost always drew the same sort of response, 'Oh man Vegas, yeah that place is wild'. Coming from the chipmunks that inhabited LA, whose bar service policy meant that a call of last rounds rung out at 1:30am, Jet and I kind of figured that these 'surfer dudes' were a little soft and that judgment should be reserved for those that well and truly knew their game. We ofcourse were such men.

In an almost cliched move we departed downtown Hollywood on a Greyhound bus bound for  fountains of glory somewhere east of where we currently where off in the desert. It could have been a scene out of any B-grade movie where the two main protagonists split from the faery land of LA for a little indulgence and recreation in the city of sin, or indeed it could have been the start of a black comedy where a life lesson was just awaiting to be handed to us. Rolling down the I15 for a few hours I remember marvelling at the many Yucca brevifolia's (yeah, I looked that up - i.e., Joshua trees) and thinking back to the amazing black and white shots that adorned the 1987 U2 album cover of the same name. For some reason however I had a Jackson Browne song repeating itself on my internal jukebox, 'Looking out on the road rushing under my wheels, looking back at the years gone by like so many summer fields'...somehow I think that the song Running on empty might have been more appropriate for leaving town than for our arrival!

On the road to Vegas - California - USA

On the road to Vegas - California - USA

The fabled Joshua Tree - on the road to Vegas - California - USA

Somewhere just over the California/Nevada border our first sight as to what we were to encounter in Vegas hit us squarely between the eyes as the lights of the town of Primm lit up the desert floor. It was actually kind of surreal, we rolled over a rise and made a little left hander that dropped to the valley floor and all of a sudden there Primm was, just like some kind of alien landing site that would not have looked out of place in the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind. This ofcourse was just the appetiser, an hour or two town the road the all you can eat buffet of all things debaucherous was just biding its time, waiting effortlessly for the mere mortals that were being drawn in like moths to a flame.


Driving into Vegas was everything that you'd expect it to be, bright lights, big city, neon overkill, daylight in the middle of the night, a place where the average man more often than not digs the ditches of someone elses luck. As the Greyhound provided us a highspeed tour of town via the highway that runs parallel to the strip we sighted all those familiar names that are synonymous with Vegas,The MGM, The Bellagio, Ceasar's Palace, The Mandalay, The Mirage and ofcourse the Stratosphere ay it's northern end. We had arrived and within a few hours we allowed ourselves a little Vegas leeway and let ourselves loose on the town. Trouble was just a stones throw away!

New York, New York casino - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

MGM casino - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

The Excalibur - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

Hitting the strip we ventured into the Excalibur to allow our bearings to get adjusted and then made our way across the way to the New York, New York, now it was on - let the games begin - and so we commenced in earnest. I attacked my old favourite, the roulette wheel, by 'playing on the outside' as I had done in my first year of uni, and in giving away my age here I am a little embarrassed to say that it was back in the glory days 1994. Some 18 years removed and now nearly three degrees to the good from commencing that first degree decades ago I still obviously haven't learnt a hell of a lot about the rules and dynamics of roulette. Come to think of it, my strategy for roulette hadn't changed in that time either.Back in the day I use to wait for a run of small numbers and then bet the second and third dozen in an attempt  to collect at 3 to 1, making a profit of 50% on each bet. That was the ingenious betting strategy that I depended on back then, way back in the day when I use to chase a bit of money (the cruel undoing of any gambler). That was until such time that I forced myself to stop as I could feel the long fingers of an addiction starting to pull me in, and really, who would want to have an addiction that was obliged by such a crappy casino as Star City in Sydney? It really was crap and I'm talking back in the day when it existed on wharf 6 as only a temporary casino, it's more permanent premises is far more depressing. How anyone could hide out in those digs for hours upon hours is beyond my comprehension. That snippet of my 'previous life' asid there was actually a fruitful start to our Vegas pickings as my initial $20 investment was turned into $120 within a few kind spins. Enough drinking money to support us for a few hours, actually quite a few considering the drinking opportunities that Vegas provided, inclusive of the free drinks when you're actually 'in the game'  and a myriad of drinking opportunities when you're sitting on the sidelines thinking of getting back in the game.

'The Strip' - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

Frichot on the strip - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

Our first night continued in this type of fashion for quite a few hours as we attacked several more casinos whilst wondering up the strip. From New York, New York, to MGM, to Bally's to a few others whose names I don't recall as my recollection of the early hours of that evening/morning seem oddly hazy.We chased a quick buck and an equivalent drink under the fluorescent glow of casino lights and the endless chimeing of poker machines that offered the opportunity of obtaining millions of dollars for a paultry investment of what most people couldn't really afford to throw away. The potential to tap into to endless streams of gold were literally at our finger tips and at the distinct mercy of our bank balances. In the haze that became our first evening and then our first morning we didn't quite notice the time tick away until a check of the rocket clock already had us rounding out 4am and heading for 5am. Moving at the speed of two old age pensioners that had just spent  the last 3hrs at an all you can eat seafood buffet, we traversed the strip and hailed one of those mobile yellow angels, making it back to our base at nearly 6am. As we arrived the skies of Vegas were already turning from black to lighter shades of blue in scenes that would not have been out of place in Coppola's Lost in Translation. Where is Scarlett Johansson when you need her, huh!?

How did my dancing shoes get in the mix? I DON"T dance!

Somehow the early hours of that  morning quickly became the afternoon hours of a new day. With shades drawn and the room remaining completely dark we only regathered our wits somewhere near 5pm when the Vegas sun was dipping back over the otherside of the Sierra Nevada. Not that Vegas had much to offer during the day, or so I convinced myself. This O assume was the point in time when Jet and I tipped over the line into what can only be considered as vampire behaviour. We left behind the lives of the common diurnal being and entered the lair of the nocturnal, a behaviour that would haunt us for several days on end and one that we would carry with us to foreign lands.

For what really felt like a fluid transition from one day into the next we started off at the Excalibur for an early evening show called the Tournament of Kings. An evening that the casino's online advertising desribes as 'Invading armies! Dancing maidens! Jousting! Fireworks! And eating with your fingers!', 'A show that is guaranteed to satisfy your appetite for adventure'. With such convincing statements and obviously with a bucket full of unfulfilled dreams of jousting, drawn swords and damsels in distress, Frichot made the call that this is where we should commence our first Vegas encore. Interestingly the show was actually quite good and not full of the high density of cheese that I had originally anticipated. I assume in that  sense that all shows on the strip are competing for 'your' hard earned dollars and a disappointing show would only mean a greatly shortened life span without the benefits of monetary compensation or the accompanying certainty of a constant gig. So after hearty rounds of 'Kazaaaar's' (I don't know, Merlin made us say it), table slapping and a non-stop medieval mélange of mead, crowns, corsets and chivalry, we were back onto the strip once again, left to our own devices. And really, if you wanted to take a guess at the way it went down please review night one, then copy and paste somewhere in the following lines. It was back to gambling followed by alcohol followed by food followed by gambling and alcohol once more. Along the way Frichot went one on one at a table called the War Machine and scored himself $80 which in turn went to the greater good of alcohol consumption. As the hours passed us by and we meandered aimlessly up the strip it was only by the time that we reached the Circus Circus casino at the northern end that somehow 5am had crept up on us yet again. To the batcave my fine fellow [insert daylight hours and sleep NOW].

In the darkness of another Vegas day my sleep deficit played out without incident until approximately 4pm. Somewhere in that time Frichot had found the will to head out to a well known guitar shop and do some other bits and pieces before catching up with me back at the hotel close to 5pm. The schedule that we had lined up for this evening was going to be the Blue Man Group @ the Venetian at 7pm, followed by X Burlesque @ the Flamingo at 10pm. C'mon now, what's Vegas without the Blue Man crew and showgirls right!!?

The Tournament of Kings - The Excalibur casino - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

Frichot with 'The King' - The Tournament of Kings - The Excalibur casino - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

Outside the Luxor - Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

All stars in their own right!

The Venetian -  Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

The Venetian -  Las Vegas - Nevada - USA

I readily admit that I had been wanting to check out the Blue Man group for a few years and in terms of a theaterical performance, the satirical angle that they take  on a 'typical' rock concert and general audience participation, it was a hell of a lot of fun. There was also a number of themes touched on in the show such as aspects of science and technology, info-kill, fractals, human sight, DNA, et al that made it one hell of an interesting scene man. Not much thinking required in all truth but sometimes that's where the fun begins, speaking of which, that's where the fun also begins at a burlesque show! Did you know that many of the show routines in a burlesque show involve females being almost naked? Did you know that all the performers in a burlesque show are female? Did you know that most of the sequences are more often than not mildly titillating, even erotic? If you answered 'no' to any of these questions then just like me you have lied through your teeth! Ahh showgirls, where would the world be without them? I think Jet and I probably did more thinking in X-burlesque than the Blue Man group as we mentally pinpointed the most attractive specimen and conceived wild ideas of how we'd work our angles and take them back to our lair. Kidnapping obviously was one of the options we considered although we weren't quite sure how we'd execute the event without a getaway car in waiting.

'Vegas baby, Vegas!'

The Blue Man Group @ The Venetian

The Blue Man Group @ The Venetian

X-Burlesque @ The Flamingo

Now continuing on from nights one and two, do you remember how these nights progressed? By the time our second Vegas encore had entered full swing I think the bright lights had kind of turned dimmed the shining lights in our brains. I did however remember a snippet out of the Blue Man group show that stated that the 'cone receptors' in our eyes commence a chain of biological processes that eventually end up with our brain formulating an image. The conversion of light in these sequences however is not continuous meaning that the receptors need time to reset everytime they capture a unique image. In the fraction of a second that the receptors reset there is essentially darkness or nothingness but the brain  compensates here by creating a fluid flow of images that in turn creates the illusion of a seemless stream of images that play out like a live movie. My point? Somehow I believe that our brain functionality reset itself to an image taken as a snap\pshot earlier in our Vegas stay and our seemless progression from bar to bar on our third night was mutually exclusive from the lessons learnt the previous two evenings....or something.

Have you copy and pasted the events of night one and two? If not, then Ready, go!  Margaritas down, beers down, the sunrise of a new day beating its way from the eastern seaboard into the cold windswept day on the Mojave. This time we had actually 'clocked it' and pushed all the way through so that when our 6:30am alarm sounded in anticipation of us sleeping (laugh out loud) and actually waking up from this form of rejuvenation, we were packed and ready to make our way to the bus station for a cross state run down to Tijuana.

Ah Vegas, I get it now. If at some advanced time someone asks me what I think then I'll back it up with the standard, 'Ah Vegas, that place is wild man'. I might also add that a few dollars to back you up would be kind of handy and that what ever happens there should really stay there! ;)

Los Angeles - Lost angles

Los Angeles (USA)
18 FEB - 22 FEB 2011

I'd been to Los Angeles twice before, once when I was five years old and the second time when I was 16. I hadn't enjoyed Los Angeles as a city on the last occasion, I found it to be particularly decentralized and in my mind it had nothing particularly appealing about it other than cheap manufactured amusement and entertainment. It had a ‘run down’ sense about, kind of haggard, particularly dirty and if you didn’t have yourself a car then ‘best of luck’ in trying to make your way around the city. I thought all this to myself as we drove into West Hollywood from the airport. This however was Jets first time in the USA and therefore it was also his LA debut. With all my impressions tainted by two earlier experiences I couldn't very well go and spoil the surprise for him by telling him exactly what I thought, could I? Don't worry, I was cool about it, I didn't but damn did I want to!

Staying on Melrose Ave in West Hollywood we appeared to be quite central to all things Hollywood related and also therefore the nightlife and night moves of the Sunset strip. Leaving ourselves to recover a few hours from the harrowing experience of 'when babies attack' aboard flight VA008 from Sydney, we ventured out into the early evening streets of LA in order to see what it had to offer. What you notice almost immediately whilst in this urban wasteland is the proliferation of cars and the distinct lack of pedestrian traffic. What we also noticed is that LA had decided quite uncharacteristically to put some kindly weather on for the Sydney boys and with Frichot being his usual Aquarian self, he saw it in his best interests not to pack a jumper or jacket for a Winter sojourn through North America. Sometimes I wonder as to how Aquarians make there way through life, well, that's until I notice that somehow they always manage to land on their feet and therefore for me, being a Cancerian, sometimes I just need to cope with the fine tuned art of ‘chillin’

Our first port of call in this town of angels was Pink's diner. It is one of the favourite places for the LA connoisseur of all things ‘midnight delight’ and hot dog related. On first viewing their menu looked epic! Any combination you could think of was either thrown onto a bun or wrapped in a tortilla with either one, two or three hot dogs piled high with ingredients such as chili, bacon, chicken or pork and lathered in liquidised Monterrey cheese, guacamole, sour cream, ketchup, mustard or any numbers of sauces. The end result of this cardiac arrest in waiting is a meal of monolithic proportions that resembled a car crash of competing ingredients. To tell you the truth, on first sighting the results looked evily fiendish, the exact way that you'd want to commence your culinary journey through the gastronomic delights of LA. Cutting a swathe through the food explosion on the plate was interesting, fluorescent colours startled the eyes, strange mixes of condiments confused the taste buds and the residence that the completed dog occupied in our bowels stayed with us for at least several days post the apocalyptic event. Still, it was an LA experience to be had and in a certain way savoured. If this type of food was to be the way of the future, on this trip at least, then I'd better make the most of throwing myself in at the deep and getting use to it.

Pink's Diner - West Hollywood - Los Angeles - U.S.A

Your food comes with a bill from the cardiologist

Melrose Ave - Los Angeles - a 'Love shop', obviously!

As our first evening in LA moved on we made our way down to Sunset strip in order to check out the LA scene. The Strip is home to such places as the Viper room, The Roxy, Whiskey a go-go, the Ruby bar and the Rainbow bar. Jet had decided that for this evening we'd set up camp at the Rainbow bar, I guess for the off chance the lead singer from Motorhead would make an appearance, not as far fetched as it sounds either as apparently he is known to frequent to place quite regularly. So as always we did what comes naturally to us, we found ourselves a place at one of the three bars in the establishment and started drinking. As a place or a venue to hang out on a Friday evening I guess the Rainbow is OK. In that sense it’s got to be said that I'm a little different from the way Jet operates. He can pull up to a bar anywhere and strike up a conversation with most anyone within a matter of a few minutes, I on the other hands don't mind my own company and could easily sit down the end of a bar holding up and end for hours, probably not a bar like the Rainbow, it would probably need to be some place that had a pretty decent cocktail list, mood lighting and some a sweet lounge groove, but hey, you get my point. In any case, within no time at all we were chatting with people from Sweden, from states all over the USA and even the odd person that was born and bred in good 'ole LA. You see, now that's the way Jet always ends up saving my arse. Whilst I can't strike up a conversation to save my life when I'm eventually drawn into one I can usually maintain it and more often than not feel better for the chat. For quite a few hours we actually had a pretty good time with our new 'LA crew' until all of a sudden a blinding flash went off in the house, the likes of which I'd never seen before. Jet and I looked at each other and then checked the time, 1:30am! What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of drug bust or something? Apparently not! As we were quickly advised by our fellow cohorts, LA has a 1:30am cut-off for all alcohol service. The deal is that last drinks are called just before 1:30am and then you're meant to be out the door come 2am. The reason we were given for this, or rather the reason that the State of California has provided for this as direct result of the number of drink-driving accidents/fatalities that the city has had to endure in previous years. Nobody actually knows the statistics on whether or not this early morning close down has actually changed the result significantly but knowing that LA is distinctly a driving town it obviously put rhyme behind the reason of such a law. To powers of observation and deduction all this really meant was that people would be coerced into drink faster and in turn would be out on the roads at the same time in order to cause more accidents, although there's no data to support that hypothesis either.

Frichot with his Rainbow crew - Rainbow bar - Sunset Strip - LA

On the strip

Being escorted out of the Rainbow bar by a somewhat forceful security presence, Jet had his first encounter with a star of note, well, depending on what movies you're into. Apparently Ron Jeremy and his 16 inch none too insignificant buddy were in the house enjoying drinks and for a brief moment Jet passed his gaze the two locked eyes. I'm glad that it's all that they did. In any case as we busted out of the Rainbow we headed south down Sunset strip in order to see what else was on, which ended up not being too much. We did stop in a place called Mel's diner for a while and made our way through a healthy meal of chicken wings and fish & chips, just the treat for anyone that's moderately health conscious. Rolling in on the back of the deathly dogs from Pinks this was going to be just the thing to rid ourselves from the evil excesses from LA.

[Mels diner, the prelude]


[What to do in a LA cab at 3am]

Mels, what more needs to be added?

When Frichot starts pulling his wing chun moves on the street its time to...go to a strip joint...

Not that the evil excesses really stopped with food consumption, oh no, LA wouldn't justify itself with such a tag if only food was involved. Delving back into our memories from earlier that evening Jet had made it well known that at some point he'd be wanting to take on an LA strip club. As I said to him at the time and as I've said to many people, I don't know why but for some reason strip clubs just aren't my thing, there's really nothing appealing about them to me. On this occasion I admit however as to putting the idea to Jet for two reasons, one was to get out of the cold as it was damn freezing at 3am and the second was in order to let our first night in LA roll on, how can you justify a 3am curtain call on your first night? So we went and as predicted I had an average time but Jet seemed to enjoy himself, which considering the fact that this is his trip, it was alright with me.

Sometime close to 5am we arrived back at the Orbit hostel and crashed out, night one in LA both run and won with fairly reasonable results. When you're traveling however you can't rest on your laurels and really you only end up being as good as your last night out (insert cliche here), our lost angles just meant that it was going to be 'go time' again tomorrow.

[Johnny Rockets - LA. The ultimate in 'healthy living']


Sign says, stay away fools…

Cities can be amusing places huh. There's movement, weirdness, loneliness amongst vast oceans of people and there's also city icons. An icon, be it cultural or architectural says something specific about a place and whether it's good or bad at least it gives a city its trademark. In LA of course it's the Hollywood sign and somehow like two hopeless moths to a flame Frichot and I were drawn to 'the' representative sign of a city that specialises in take-away fantasy. I'm not sure when it was in our walk from Melrose to the Hollywood hills that we decided to actually make a visit to 'the sign' but all that I know was that our search for a better photo of this icon just drew us closer, and closer, so much so that our little walk ended into an epic 7-8km hike up into the Hollywood hills from our starting point in West Hollywood. Not that we didn't feel a little better for the exercises as our previous evenings excesses needed to be walked off somehow but when the rain started pelting down during the course of the walk neon signs starting flashing all around us, 'Bad idea boys - Bad idea boys'. A bemused local actually stopped to chat with us just as we reached our goal, although she stayed in the confines of her warm, dry vehicle. I could just see that look on her face and what it was spelling it, 'Bloody Australians, they really are a nation of idiots!'. Why yes ma am, yes we are.
 
 

We weren't even halfway there at this stage!

OK, 'Hollywood sign', check - now lets go home!

 
Universally appealing
 
The last couple of days of our LA sojourn were spent at at theme parks. The first being at Six Flags - Magic Mountain, where the 'all you could eat' roller coaster fest was just what I needed to get my adrenalin going again. Unfortunately my partner in crime is a little soft when it comes to roller coasters and he took a knee on this day, but really, what is there to fear that seems to be inherently present in attacking such fearsome tracks of doom as The Viper - [The Viper, up close and personal] , Rolling Thunder, Superman: 'The Ultimate Flight' or Bugaboo (OK, so that last one is soft). The only disconcerting part of the day was the endless well wishes and requests to have a 'Six Flag day'. I mean seriously, what kind of mental person came up with the concept such an irritating tag line that had to accompany every single transaction? Buy a drink, get some change and then get given a 'Thankyou sir, and have a Six Flag Day'. What the hell does that even mean? Have you run out of toilet paper in the bathroom sir? 'Here's 10 more rolls, and have a Six Flag Day'. Is there a superior type of etiquette or protocol that should accompany the Six Flag Day? Are these people suggesting that I should strive to reach the pinnacle of human existence by aspiring to have myself a day of six flags, is that what we should all be aspiring to?
 
 

Again, one of those photos that speaks for itself - Six Flags amusement park - Los Angeles - U.S.A

 
The dilemma of the ethically and morally perplexing questions posed by the Six Flag staff still haunted me the next day at Universal Studios. Thankfully for Frichot this was more of the scene that he was use to and I think this was his favourite day whilst in LA. I did manage to slyly get him onto a couple of roller coaster style rides, the result of which had him screaming like a little girl. That made my day!
 
 

Universal Studios - Los Angeles

A Pharoah like this would have scared the shit out of me!

 
[Universal studios - The Haunted House]
 
 

 
Thankfully our few days in Los Angeles ended quickly enough. Point blank, I have never been a fan of Los Angeles and it did nothing to win me over on this occasion either. Thankfully our next stop was going to be Las Vegas, a playground for the big boys, playas, wannabes and of course, The Frelisher show!

Sydney - The art of doing

Sydney (Australia)
18 FEB 2011

Staring off into the never ending possibilities of another excursion, this time to North America, both Jet and I had decided that our last night in Sydney should be spent investigating the bottom of beer glasses until the sun rose on our date of escape. Projecting fun and good times
forward in that inevitable fashion that derives purely from optimism and a dash of all things macho we aimed up at 'clocking' the game in (Donkey Kong) speak and attempted to make it to the Virgin Australia check-in counter without a flayling eyelid or half a snore sounded. That was the plan.


Commencing at the Courthouse on Oxford St somewhere around 7:30pm we meandered through the streets of casual conversation for several hours as actual and virtual friends docked for a casual ale in aid of our all night vigil. Playing a tight game in the first few hours of drinking both Jet and I were pacing our run to the finish line which would inevitably be bathed in the glorious light of a fine Friday morning. As we outgrew our stay at our first place of residence, the Courthouse, we found that most accomplices had dropped off for the evening, this being a school night and all. However Janelle, our master and spiritual guide in all things spirit related was however in full support of our endeavours and offered suitable encouragement as we strolled down Oxford St in Friday's early hours. As the lights of the Nevada bar beemed a neon haze metres and metres from its actual point of entrance in a weird type of premomition of what we would encounter hitting the lights of Vegas as it arose out of the Mojave, we were drawn into its eerie, seedy clutches.


It's usually at places such as the Nevada bar that time loses its meaning and your only point of reference as to the duration of your stay is counting the number and type of drinks you believe you consumed. It's an odd game to play but somehow it makes more sense than actually deducing whether the minute hand is actually 15 mins away from 12 and whether the hour hand is laying somewhere between 2 and 5. Drinks were concocted, drinks were mixed and I'm sure a lot of numbers were dialled by yours truly on JJ's phone for reasons still unbeknownst to me. It's the second time that I've felt compelled to steal JJ's phone and drunk dial both her friends and members of family in the early hours just out of sheer enjoyment. For some reason the recipients of the calls don't find the deal as amusing as I inevitably do at the time, go figure!?


At somewhere over the 4am mark there were many facets of our initial 'magnificent' intentions that had caught up with our optimism and we were all of a sudden stomped out of our bliss with size 15 forms of the new craze in town, 'reality'. Sleep deprivation was riding hot on the heels of solid inebriation and only short distance behind a alcohol induced grease request that was being demanded from our stomach via a brain that was in it's very own world of struggle.I always find it incredible how the stomach can outrank the brain in terms of decision making in those situations. It's always as of the brain says, 'Hey dude, you make the call, I'm totally spaced out and wasted at this moment to really care what we, as a team, are going to consume'. With a Hungry Jacks  stay under our belts and a bed beckoning us into its fold, Jet, JJ and myself made our way to JJ's safe haven of eternal peace and rest. The need for sleep had beaten our game plan of awaiting the Friday sun.


Evil, evil, evil alcohol. Why does it sneak up on you in those early morning hours? What did I ever do to hurt it? We play games sometimes, we enjoy each others company and then all of a sudden it feels the need to smack you over the head six times with a baseball bat when you least expect it. That 9:30am alarm was about as entertaining as watching an 10 episodes of Days of our lives back to back. In those first few minutes I entertained the idea of pulling out of the trip altogether in the hope that several more hours in bed with assist in saving me from permanent brain damage. This plan of attack didn't work. In a stellar effort however JJ had managed to make her way out in the early hours and came back to home base with heavy doses of caffeine, what a champion! By that point somehow both Jet and I made a sufficient enough recovery in those next 20-30 mins that we were able to drag our luggage to the car and then laid comatose for the drive down to the airport, which JJ again was more than kind enough to provide.

VA flight # 1 to Los Angeles right under the last flight that I took out of Sydney on June 24th, 2010 - Aerolineas Argentinas flight AR1183 to Buenos Aires....hmmm, is Noumea by next stop?

Frichot - just before the torment commenced!

Saying our goodbyes at the terminal we walked through to the Virgin Australia check-in, clocked in for our VA008 flight to LA and settled back into the comforts of our seats as the plane lifted off from Charles Kingsford-Smith. Things were starting to come together in those first few minutes of flight until a wail drew my immediate attention to the row behind me, 'f**k, two toddlers! F**k', I knew exactly what this would mean to our hangovers! I turned to Jet and commented, 'I bet those little bastards are going to scream all the to Los Angeles! And you know what, they bloody well did! Son of a b*tch, it was like a tag-team screaming match between the two little gremlins, how the hell do they get any satifaction out of letting loose those long drowning wails and high pitched screams for hours on end? I'll never figure it out! A perfect advertisement for why kids are not in any of my future plans! What's more I think the parents were probably as retarded as the kids. I recall one mind numbingly dumb conversation where the mother was trying to convince her daughter ,Tilda (see Matilda), that she would be leaving her seat for just two minutes in order to walk up a few rows and speak to their father. The mother assured her daughter that the nice stewardess would look after her for those two minutes. The screaming and carrying on that eventuated from that mental conversation was one thing but the fact that the mother went on trying to convince her daugher for at least 20 mins in the following manner was totally another;


'Tilda, it's just two minutes, I'm going for two minutes, OK?'



'NOOOOOooooo, WAH, WAH'



'Tilda, just two minutes, can you just stay here with the lady for two minutes?'



'NOOOOooo, WAH, WAH'


Now repeat that conversation approximately thirty times over and you'll figure our why I felt like giving that mother a full blooded backhanded dose of 'wake the hell up'!


By the grace of all things supreme and powerful we escaped doing anyone any serious injury and landed in Los Angeles some 13hrs after leaving Sydney. If we had learnt anything in those early hours it was certainly a lesson in what not to do when preparing for an international flight. Somehow the whiskey sour Wednesday I had prior to disembarking in June last year had escaped my memory!? Still, here we were and la la land was awaiting just beyond customs, time to roll out.

The wing and a prayer tour

The Frelisher team attack the USA, Mexico and Canada
February/March 2011

Sitting back in the light of an early morning in La Paz, Bolivia, praying that my wallet was still in 'missing' status within the confines of the Wild Rover hostel room and wondering what the hell my next move was going to be, I never quite imagined that it would lead to this.

Making my way back over the Pacific in early December I traced through a whole passage of events that had led me away and that had led me back home, all of them good decisions and all of them having lead to some interesting and wonderful experiences. Unfortunately my journey to South America had been gazumped at a critical junction. Bolivia had not quite squeezed the money out of me as much as it disappeared literally like a thief in the night, never to be heard of or seen again. As I've mentioned in earlier posts, the plan was to get into Peru at some point and then in the final stretch of the journey head into Brazil with Rio de Janiero being the final destination. At that time the idea was, or rather what I had intended to do, was catch my friend Jet in Rio for one last wild throw of the dice, experience what Rio had to offer and 'review' carnivale for whatever it was that it could possibly offer a gringo crew like us. That ofcourse did not eventuate.

Fast forward a few weeks and I'm back in Sydney, lazing around generally, not really wanting to go out and find work at the moment as theoretically I should still have been out on the South American continent macheting my way through the Amazon somewhere near Iquitos or wherever else it was that I intended to catch some tropical disease. My great mate Jet rolls up one afternoon and conjures up his own plan to make an attack on some of the lands that make up the continent of North America. 'Ok' I said, 'I'm listening, please continue!'. As Jet therefore goes onto explain, the fact that I came home early and he didn't make it to South America to catch up with me obviously left a burning hole in his calendar that could only really be treated by heading off to another destination that he was interested in conquering. Whilst his idea of taking on the USA, Mexico and Canada sounded moderately appealing, they weren't destinations that were residing high on my 'to do' list (please see Peru, Brazil, Cuba, Oman, Yemen, Turkey, Nepal & Mali for upcoming A year full of Saturdays adventures) but.....but....the fact that I'd be travelling with an awesome friend sold me on the deal quite easily. The fact that in his infinite kindness and generosity that he found it in himself to actually pay for me also, well that something that's unheard of. So to Mr Jet Frichot I say this, thank you pendejo, for all your Aquarian quirks you're still alright by me, no matter what anyone else says either to you or behind your back!! 'Oh yeeeeahhh'!

So the idea was born and the little seedling rattled around our heads for something like two months until somewhere at the start of February Jet said to me, 'You know, I've already booked my leave, are we actually going to book some tickets and sort our visas now? And hey, what about money?' All this coming a week before 'showtime'. A few G'nT's, a few tequila bombs mixed with God knows what and a little internet activity had us booked, locked in with visas, fully funded and had JJ a bet down promising to wear a tutu, comboy boots and a Stetson (if I could find one) at our next sojourn to a whiskey sour Wednesday at the Shady Pines Saloon.

...and so it came to pass. On Friday, February the 18th, 2011, the 'Frelisher'  touring party lifted off from Kingsford-Smith, hangovers in hand and with an insignificant 13hr flight across the Pacific to the City of Angels. What happens now is really anyone's guess!

Europe-Morocco-South America wrap up

It's a wrap - Europe/Morocco/South America

24 June 2010 - 02 December 2010

 

 

As has become standard for me when I've ended a trip I've taken to doing a last summary or a 'greatest hits' review whenever I managed to complete the final entry on the 'how, why, when and whatever else may have been alcohol related' blog series of my most recent escapades. Sticking with tradition and therefore adopting the same template that I've used in the past, see also;

[Morocco-Europe wrap - June/July 2008]

[Laos wrap - April 2009]

[Vietnam-Malaysia wrap - December/January 2009/10]
 

I bring you the close out of the Europe-Morocco-South America experience within my still continuing domain of Life in a year full of Saturdays, which unfortunately is also quickly coming to an end but still has a little life in it still.

Europe-Morocco-South America - 'The Final'

 

Favourite places:

 

1. San Sebastian (Spain) - this place contains everything that is good about Spain. Beautiful scenery, fantastic nightlife, great people and attitude, most restaurants per capita. It's unbeatable. Had a fantastic time here with Jay and Dina plus my favourite band rocked the Anoeta stadium for which I was fortunate enough to have been front row!

 

San Sebastian - Spain

San Sebastian - Spain

2. Madrid (Spain) - It runs a close second behind San Sebastian. Whilst there's a lot of competition between Barcelona and Madrid as to who 'owns the rights' to being the best city in Spain I think Madrid beats its Catalunyan cousin by a fair margin. Style, sophistication and a great sense of fun, Madrid is the place to be!

Just off Plaza Mayor - Madrid - Spain

3. Buenos Aires (Argentina) - It takes a little while to get the hang of BA, to figure out what it's about and how it operates but when you did it just suckers you in whole. It is a vibrancy and feel that is infectious. While some towns may have looks to die for this place has character, charm and more importantly, soul.

Buenos Aires - Argentina

San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina

4. Marrakech (Morocco) - I told my parents before they arrived here that they would hate it initially but that when they'd left they would end up loving it, and they did. This place is a cacophany of sounds, smells, sights and taste. It's in your face all of the time and it's brilliant!

Overlooking D'jemma el fna - Marrakech - Morocco

Marrakech - Morocco

5. Chefchaouen - This is a great little town in the Rif mountain that lies in the north of Morocco. On first viewing it feels like a town in the Greek islands has been transported to somewhere in the Alps and then you realise that you're surrounded by an all sorts mix of Arabs and Bedouin. It's chilled, relaxed and very unique.

Chefchaouen - Morocco

Chefchaouen - Morocco

Most Surprising:

This is a close call between Tallinn (Estonia) and Riga (Latvia). The old town in both cities are listed as UNESCO World Heritage sites and both are filled with bars, good vibes and all things surprising. For me I think that Tallinn might have to shade Riga, just by a whisker.

Tallinn - Estonia

Coolest place for a night out:

1. San Sebastian (Spain) - it just has everything you could possibly want in a relatively small area.

2. Buenos Aires (Argentina) - it's just cool, end story.

3. Paris (France) - The City of lights has it all, bars, restaurants, galleries, great Summer evenings...

Favourite Hotel:

Not that I stayed in too many on this excursion but the Riad Boussa in Marrakech easily won the day. It was sea of tranquility and calm in a town that is chaotic and hectic. I will never forget our first night of arrival and the panic stricken faces of my parents that all of a sudden disappeared when they passed through the doors of this place.

Riad Boussa - Marrakech - Morocco

Nightview - Riad Boussa - Marrakech - Morocco

Best place to get totally lost:

1. Amazon jungle (Bolivia) - this one is a 'no-brainer'. If you want to get totally lost then just walk into the jungle and see how well you'll do once you're off the marked trails!

2. Fes (Morocco) - About 9000 small streets and alleys in a space of 19 squares kilometres, keep walking, take a few turns and you're away to losing yourself in a spectacular town.

3. Marrakech (Morocco) - Not quite as difficult as Fes but it can pose problems for the navagationally challenged!

Amazon basin - Bolivia

Find your way out! Go on, do it! - Fes - Morocco

Best place to drink and get totally lost:

1. Riga (Latvia) - I had one 'special night' in Riga where I lost something like 4-5hrs one morning. I left the bar at close to 3am and walked into the hostel at between 7am & 8am. It was a 15 min walk back to the hostel, albeit a convoluted walk. Still, Riga is a great place to have a drink and if you want, a great place to get lost in!

This is my last known location on that fateful night - 4hrs later I made it back - Riga - Latvia

2. Santa Maria (Bolivia) - This place is 9kms from Parque Ambue Ari in the Amazonian basin. I didn't actually get it wrong here but there is potential to get things awfully wrong and you don't even have to try.

3. Barcelona (Spain) - Drinking and then attempting to walk through the Barri Gotic is a rewarding challenge, you can lose yourself in the maze of the Gothic area for hours and have a lot of fun!

Best drink:

1. The Tio Tio - Captain Hook's bar (Barcelona - Spain) - not sure what was in it but damn it was good.

2. The Boliviano - Locot's (Sucre - Bolivia) - it's a traditional mojito but with a Bolivian twist. Infused with cocoa leaves, have a few of these and you'll be swimmingly dialled for a while. A must have!

3. The Whiskey Sour - Yono's (Paris - France) - Nowhere near as good as the Shady Pines Saloon bar in Sydney but when you're operating on happy hour convenience and are just about to have the best meal of your life, well yeah, it works!

Best Meal:

1. Chez Robert & Louise - Marais - (Paris-France) - hands down the best meal that I have had in my life and now provides me with the answer of what I would order for my last meal on earth if I was at anytime required to do so. Blood sausage, pork pot belly and the greatest rib steaks that you can EVER imagine. A place only for a 'meatatarian' ofcourse!

The rib steak - freakin' LEGENDARY - Chez Robert & Louise - Paris - France

Old school - Chez Robert & Louise - Paris - France

2.  Dar Damana - (Fes - Morocco) - This was another return for me. The last time I was in Fes Khalid picked me off the street and I ended up having tea with him and then returning for dinner. This time I took the parents and JJ for a Moroccan feast. Khalid was again there and strangely remembered me! Typically Moroccan food in a great setting. You can't beat that!

3. San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina - I'm not sure of the name of the place that Dina and I stumbled into but the beef was incredible!

Best video:

Well, I hardly took any video footage on this excursion but the Swedish dynamic duo, Frida & Jenny, put together a string of highlights that came out very well - *Spoiler Alert*, watch out for the incredibley handsome guy that starts appearing from around 3:28.

[Frida & Jenny's trip]

Favourite/best photos:

It's all very subjective when it comes to any sort of artistic endeavour. There's a few photos in many that I took that I really like. They may not be the best of the bunch but here they are.

1. Bono - Anoeta stadium - (San Sebastian - Spain)

My favourite shot of the trip for many reasons. It was such a great night and San Sebastian was a fantastic place and I was fortunate to have shared my time there with two cool people.

2.  Koutoubia mosque from Cosybar - (Marrakech - Morocco)

Marrakech is just so full of colours and I think this shot to Koutoubia mosque does it justice.

3. JJ in some random bar - (Paris - France)

I think this is a pretty cool portrait...and she doesn't think that she looks good in photo's!!?


4. Eiffel tower - (Paris - France)

It's iconic and to tell you the truth I have a preference for catching things in black and white these days.

5. Meteora (Greece)

Meteora is a remarkable place. I think there are probably better shots but for some reason I keep coming back to this one!



Best shot taken by someone that's not me!

JJ just took the camera off me, pointed and took the shot from the second level of the Eiffel tower. It turned out to be one hell of a shot!

Coolest moments:

1. U2 @ the Anoeta - San Sebastian (Spain)

[U2 in San Sebastian - link to previous post]

2. Being in Barcelona when Spain won the World Cup for the first time, what a great night!

[Spain win World Cup! - link to previous post]

3. Rage Against the Machine - Endesa Costanera - Buenos Aires (Argentina)

[This night in Buenos Aires - AWESOME - RATM 13 OCT 10]

Sketchiest moments:

1. Dicing with Yuma - Parque Ambue Ari (Bolivia) - having a puma rip into your leg and then thinking that you're throat may be next is probably the sketchiest moment I've ever had in my life!

2. Taking goods out of San Pedro prison (La Paz - Bolivia) - having fun with inmates and then have your mates walk out with some prison made goods was kind of odd, and a little sketchy.

3. Crossing up on the Death Road (La Paz to Coroico - Bolivia) - for one brief moment I thought that my breaking technique was going to have me imitating super man for a good 50mtrs.

Uncoolest moment:

The moment that I actually realised that I would be heading for him. Sitting in that hostel room in La Paz as it me was an awful experience.

Best comeback:

Vladimir waking up at 4:30am with a severe hangover after a big night out in Stockholm. Not only did he manage to recover but he managed to drive us all the way from Stockholm to just outside of Bratislava before finally having a rest, some 25+hrs of driving. It was insane and it was a hell of a comeback.

Most random ...but still cool event:

I had been telling Janelle about this shady character called Abdul that I had met in Fes two years earlier. He and his cousin had guided me around Fes before setting me up for a bit of a fall, or so I thought. I told JJ that I'd love to see this guy again but that it would be more than unlikely in a place the size of Fes, and I was right...however...as we were awaiting a bus in Chefchaouen, on our way to Tangier, Abdul appeared out of nowhere! It was completely random and to see a guy that you had met two years earlier in a completely different town was bizarre and strangely cool!

Total flights: 13

Bus rides:  13

Ferries: 3

Trains: 1

There we have it, Europe/Morocco/South America all wrapped. I look forward to delivering you more when the Frelisher tour (On a wing and a prayer) of the US-Mexico-Canada (2011) kicks off on February 18th, 2011! Catch you then!!

Buenos Aires - Quelle belle mort

Buenos Aires (Argentina)
30 NOV - 02 DEC

Some people say that life is what happens around you when you're busy thinking or perhaps it may lie in the existence of time where you as an individual spend thinking about things that you may say or may not say, things that you may or may not do. There's a song by Dave Matthews called the 'Space between' that seems to echo those sentiments, '..the space between the bullets in the firefight is where I'll be hiding waiting for you...the space the wicked lies is where we hope to hide safe from the pain'. I guess in the same manner it's been the personal goals or checkpoints that I made for myself in the last few years that gave me enough leeway to not really consider the life or the time that took place between those points. The last 5-6 months on the road thankfully gave me enough time to be able to reconsider that mentality.

Whilst the way that I had arrived back in Buenos Aires perhaps should have made for perhaps a disappointing or sad occassion, it's not the way that it turned out. Dina and I spent our last day once again enjoying our time and experiencing once again those places that made BA special to us. I know that both of us felt that in coming back to Buenos Aires we were in a way coming back home. It was comfortable, familiar and it had such a good feeling about it that you couldn't help but have a smile on your face as you were sitting on La Avenida Boedo consuming your third or fourth glass of malbec as the rays of the afternoon sun caught you in its warm embrace.

Late afternoon shower - Buenos Aires

Later that evening we headed down to San Telmo in search of some good 'ole Argentinian beef, not really a challenge. I had myself a brilliant morcilla and enough BBQ'd beef to satisfy my carniverous craving for weeks...and then just like that, it was all over...

Nearly six months after having headed out of Sydney on the back of a wicked whiskey sour Wednesday I was commencing my final day on this fantastic journey. In almost a homage to all things early morning related and the way that we had travelled around for the last two months, D inevitabley was running late for her connections to the airport. As she furiously packed, looking in dismay at all the items that remained outside her bag and in turn wondering as to how she would be able to fit them into her already bursting breaches, I strolled down to the local cafe and ordered up a couple of cappucino's "Dos cappucino's para llevar por farvor", "Si senor, uno momento". There's something cool about this place and I still haven't been able to put my finger on exactly what it is. Ofcourse there's the language,culture, spirit of the people, food and a way of doing things that's uniquely Argentinian but then again I've been to quite a few countries that have these unique qualities than in turn haven't affected me in the same manner. As best as I could figure it, the place has soul and as a 'gringo' I'm happy to have had the opportunity to have experienced that for a while.

Urban art attack - near Plaza Mayor - Buenos Aires

As 10am rolled around I did manage to assist in getting Dina to the airport express bus station via Retiro station. Typically she was cutting it fine and it was probably the last bus that she could have jumped onto whilst still making check-in for her flight to Auckland. As the bus rolled out of the station and we pulled faces at one another I reflected a little on the last couple of months. Travelling with D had been somewhat of a 'happy fluke'. We'd known each other for about fours years but hadn't seen one another for four years, we were acquaintances and nothing more. Before heading to Europe this time around I had it in my mind that I'd stop in on D in Berlin, have a few drinks and have a laugh, and that certainly happened, but when D decided to join me on my South American adventures it kind of came out of left field. It's then very much in the hands of the God's has to how you work out as travelling partners once you're committed. I've had instances where I've travelled with friends where being in each others company for a large portion of time has caused immense friction and has resulted in a request to draw swords at dawn, this experience however just worked. We got along really well, it was absolutely cruisy and I've got to say that I feel really fortunate to have shared my time in SA with someone as cool as D. I guess I just got lucky :)

It was a beautiful morning in Buenos Aires as D's bus rolled out towards the airport. My flight wasn't leaving until much later that evening (actually 1am the next morning) and hence I had BA to myself that day. I walked down from the bus station near Retiro via Plaza Mayor to San Telmo. I must have walked around San Telmo for hours. It was one of those days that just felt right, a fitting way to part company with such a great place. I didn't feel sad or ripped off by the, it actually felt good, I had a smile on my face and I knew inside myself that sometime in the near future I'd be back to finish off what I had left behind.

Making my way back to the hostel in Boedo I picked a couple of bottles of the local brew, Quilmes, and hoped that I'd be able to catch Jorge before he took off to whatever he did in the afternoon. Jorge was a Colombian guy that we'd met at the hostel a month earlier. We still hadn't quite figured out what he was doing, about as much we could figure was that he was a student that had spent time studying in the US and was now studying in Buenos Aires. Fortunately I caught him just as he was walking out the door and I said, 'Hey man, I was hoping to have a drink with you, can I convince you to hang around?'...his response was 'Sure man, I'll just go across the road and get another bottle'. So there we sat for the afternoon hours, drinking away, enjoying the sunshine and each others company. It was a great way to finish up my time.

Somewhere approaching 8pm I made my way back to Retiro train station and then jumped a bus for the airport. My time in Argentina was up and the adventure that I had commenced months before was now hours away from ending. It had been a hell of a ride and one hell of a rare opportunity that I'd been presented with, one that I was thankfully smart enough to have accepted. A few hours later as Aerolineas Argentinas flight 1182 disappeared into the night sky over Buenos Aires, banking to the left and heading west towards Australia, I wondered how long it would be until I made my way back to this beautiful place. Knowing me and my restless nature I could be fairly certain within myself that it wouldn't be too long and what's more I could be fairly certain that the next adventure was sure to be just around the corner.

It's always Quilmes time in Argentina!

D with our buddy Mafalda - San Telmo - Buenos Aires