Still Globetrotting

My ridiculous journey is almost over, which I'm more than grateful for. As much as I love travel and adventure, I've discovered that jetsetting from one country to another for an entire 4 weeks can actually get kind of old. Not to mention expensive and exhausting.

Clearly I had to put my blogging duties on the backburner for a couple of weeks while I continued my attempt to hang out with everyone I've ever known around the world within a short month, but hopefully things will get back to normal when I'm back in Sydney next week.

I'm not even sure if I should bother telling any of the random stories here, since I will hopefully document them well enough in my photo album. I will however say that a highlight of the last couple of weeks was spending some time with my 96-year old grandmother in Yorkshire for a few days, which was the first time I'd seen her in 3 years. I can't even begin to tell people how immensely proud I am of my genetic heritage from a woman who consistently tells us how blind she is, and yet is more than capable of rattling off a quick list of who in the family needs to lose some weight, including those who have recently given birth. Bless.

Anyway, I got into San Francisco last night, so I'm going to spend today relaxing by the pool and/or napping, followed by a few drinks tonight, and perhaps a little sightseeing in the city tomorrow if I feel so inclined (which I very well might not, after the last few weeks). Here's hoping I at least catch a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge.

When I Grow Up

The trip continues, and as exhausted and hungover as I increasingly find myself each day along the way, it's all been far too good a time to want it to be over quite yet. (I may have a very different opinion in a week's time).

Either way, Paris ended up being a blast, not least because we met up with Vix and let her show us her version of a good night out, which was surprisingly similar to our usual, except that innocent bystanders would have not understood quite how obnoxious we were being if they didn't speak English.

I still don't have enough time to blog properly, but here's a taste of the evening with a couple of selected photos:

...For All The Bitches Out There...

I'm about to head to Paris for the night, and then London tomorrow (hopefully), however I couldn't leave the continent without providing some new euro trash for you to snack on.

The clear gem of the collection this trip is by someone calling herself "Discobitch". We're still not sure where she's from, as she 'sings' in both French and English extremely poorly, but between the trashy video and the retarded but catchy dance track, we are in heaven:

Other winners include the latest from Mylene Farmer (decent track but brilliant video) and the new one from Eric Prydz, which has a great beat but wins extra points for inaccuracy and insensitivity regarding the Native American culture.

No Respect

Well I'm currently in France, mostly relaxing, and drinking enough that I would normally consider it partying, but in a civilized manner and with cheese that somehow means we're just being really sophisticated.

Nothing much to report, although we do have some great pictures already that will be posted at some point. Amsterdam was a blast, and as seen in this photo that recently surfaced, I still have no respect for even the most sacred of cermonies and cultures...but I'm not the only one:

More to come eventually, if i can drag myself away from the French wine and Russian vodka...

Seriously? Did You Say That?

Still loving my holiday, and Sri Lanka was amazing. Between great food, playing with elephants, and getting some serious sun by the pool, there's not much to complain about.

But as always, I can think of something. The first night in Sri Lanka, Emla and Presto decided they were going to have a big night. I was exhausted from the travel and the jetlag, and shuffled off to bed around midnight. The two of them, on the other hand, decided to keep going until around 6 in the morning. And they still managed to meet me for breakfast at 9.30am. Impressive.

Emla put on a good face, but by the afternoon she was feeling ill. That's expected, of course. What annoyed me, however, was that she committed one of my top alcohol-related crimes -- at one point during her suffering, she actually said "Ugh...maybe it was something I ate."

Um, no. I'm guessing it's more likely it was one of the 1) 8 pints of beer you drank, 2) 6 glasses of whisky, or 3) 5 hours of sleep you didn't get. To suggest it might have been "something [you] ate" is almost an insult to the very power of alcohol, and I personally won't stand for it.