Where Is Hawkins?Where travel is cheaper than psychotherapy.

Well, I am in New York for a few hours and I am glad I didn’t get busted for bringing in Absinthe. I had a good time and will tell you more later after I get the photos uploaded.

In Prague, I was made to check my carry-on “because it was too large” and the idea was to reclaim it in Zurich so I could carry it on the rest of the way home. After a 20 minute scare at baggage claim, I finally got my bag but it meant that I didn’t have time to chill at the lounges or go look for Luxembourgli, this particular Swiss delicacy that is like crack but more unhealthy and more expensive. For serious, it’s the shit.

I sometimes have a problem with my inner voice. Sometimes I so want to say what I am thinking but without reprecussions so most of the time I have to bite my tongue. And to me, it’s not my fault because it’s like a reflex action. So I went to the American Airlines counter to get my boarding passes home and encountered the completely useless security questionairre.

The first words out of her mouth were “Why are you checking in so late?” First, there was over an hour until we left in addition to the flight running behind. Second, wtf? What does she care? She’s the security bitch. Those seven words and tone from her got me riled up.

“I was having a sex sandwich with your mom and sister.”

Fortunately, those words didn’t make it out of my mouth and instead I told her the story of luggage and how Swiss Air made me check my bag. She seemed annoyed and proceeded to read me the script about if I’ve had my luggage out of my sight since I have left Prague. Well, yes, since they made me check it, it was under the plane in the hold. Her facial reaction was the look of her singlehandedly foiling a terrorist plot to crash the plane into an orphanage full of children and puppies.

“Bitch, if you were paying attention to me not 45 seconds ago you would have known that the luggage is secure. Now quit being a ho and give me my new boarding pass.”

Instead I just gave her my belittling smile and just gave simple answers to an obvious simpleton instead of calling her out, which would have done me no good. I was running on 3 hours of sleep, fighting dehydration from drinking from beer along with Absinthe and 7-up at the jazz club last night and having to listen to douchebag American college students “studying overseas” (note to the students: the Czech Republic does not use the baht, you dumb cunts, so quit saying that beer last night cost you 24 baht.) There was no need to get snippy…

After the stupid question about using things as a weapon (“you mean besides my horsecock?”) I finally made it through the gauntlet of idiocy and got my new boarding pass and took the train to Terminal E.

The flight over was interesting – I sat next to a hottie up in business class who was super cool. There was also this cutie who looked A LOT like Philly Girl (as I shake my fist a la Conan O’Brian and shout “STAMOS!!”) so that was kinda weird and unnerving.

Glad to be back but I wish I was in the Czech cold.

See you all on Wednesday!

When I first started living in the neighborhood, the first place that made me feel at home was a restaurant called The Cambridge House. It’s a Greek diner where I could get an omelet or chicken or just a cup of coffee and pie served to me by a waitress, not a server. I liked it when they call me “honey.” I was never rushed out and could make smalltalk with the neighbors and the tourists. It was one of the few places where I could get a decent meal for under $10.

It closes this weekend because the owner of the building is making condos after they level the building. It’s sad in a way. I’ve outlasted a Chicago institution. I’m getting old.

If you want me to send you a postcard from Prague, I’d be more than happy to do so. If you’ve already gotten one from me in the past, I’ll send you another one until you tell me to get bent.

If you’re new to my blog, then say hi and give me a mailing address so I can send one.

Normally I don’t believe in these, but I was sent this today from a girl I met in Africa who is 3 days younger than me. She found this incredibly funny and thought this was about us:

Virgo August 23 – September 22
For Sunday, February 19 -Ready to dig your heels in and defend what you believe in? Bet you are — and bet you’re quite eager to do it, too. If you’re up against someone who’s not as well armed as you are — verbally, at least — (which, at this moment, includes just about everyone) try not to be too critical. Why show someone up if that’s not what’s really called for?

lol

you’re spending your Friday night at home tending to your cameras and cleaning the CMOS. A clean mirror and CMOS makes Nick a happy man.

Seriously, if you have a dSLR, now’s the time to see if your CMOS is dirty. I blew out the mirror and then took a 30 second exposure against my white wall of the bachelor pad at f/29. Boom! Big fucking spots. No wonder I had a pic or two that looked kinda shitty (well, most of mine are, but those are because of my lack of talent).

Oh and I have a damn Dandy Warhols song stuck in my head. :(

On my final day in Gibraltar, I got up ass-early, packed and dropped off my stuff at the hotel front desk for storage so I can go take the tour of Marbella and Puerto Banus before the flight back in the evening. The tour was due back at 6:30ish, my flight was at 8:15pm. Not a problem.

I met up with the tour group at 9 and we boarded the coach to Marbella, which was about an hour and a half drive northeast from Gibraltar up the Mediterranean coast. We got a tour of downtown Marbella and got dropped off to fend for ourselves for about 5 hours before we got picked up to head to Puerto Banus. Naturally, I got lost.

There’s about a 4km long promenade along the coast with nice little shops and people making fun and cool sculptures in the sand. So I ended up taking a nice stroll along the Sea and decided to enjoy myself. I had coffee and walked to the end of the promenade and ended up doing some window shopping. By then, it was time for lunch. One of the things I didn’t do in Gibraltar was have quality seafood so I stopped at a place along the promenade and had a long lunch and wine and just sat and wrote out postcards.

At 3:30pm, we got picked up and went for a short walk around Puerto Banus. It was pretty cool to take a walk along the marina and we were told to keep our eyes peeled for famous people. All I saw were old tourists, so that didn’t do me any good. I took a handful of pictures and looked at the burgees and countries represented in the marina and decided to chill and people watch. I found a bar called Sinatra’s that was playing Beady Belle so I had to stop. I also found a bar called Shenanigans so I thought of Super Troopers and Farva from the movie. It was time to head back around 5:30pm and it was time for me to say goodbye to this part of the world and start the trek home. We went through immigration at the border and I got dropped off at Casemates Square around 6:30pm and walked 10 minutes to grab my stuff at the hotel and do some last minute gift shopping for the family. I hopped on the bus to the Frontier and walked into the airport and was able to check through and get in with minimal of ease. Gibraltar Airport has to be the smallest airport I’ve ever been in, so it is literally one metal detector and x-ray machine for security. I sat in the BA lounge there and got halfway through my Beck’s beer before I realized it was non-alcoholic and it was time to board to go home.

I felt sad to leave. I really liked my time there and was mentally thinking of when I could come back. I’ve already exhausted most of the tourist sites, but it would be fun to sit and just relax and not have a checklist of things to do if I’m there next. It was nice to be in place where I could drop my guard and just enjoy being in a small place.

I’d recommend Gibraltar to anyone. Sometimes the places you overlook are the ones you have the most fun in.

Pics from Tangier.

Back to back day trips tire you out. Tangier required a lot of running because it meant getting up and being at the meeting point at 8am and getting back around 7ish and in that time, it was a flat out sprint. Well, for the most part.

I met up with this nice retired Canadian couple and a British couple for the tour. We drove across the border into La Linea (at the border, we all had to get out and walk past the immigration dude and then get back in. At that time, we went to Algeciras, Spain in order to get on the ferry over to Tangier. It felt like a lot of hurry up and wait, so we got to Algeciras and I grabbed coffee and talked with the other couples before we got on the ferry over. The port of Algeciras was pretty cool, mainly because I’ve never spent much time around real ports and watched the sheer amount of activity going on. It’s like watching a construction site for assembling a high-rise. It’s always cool to take a few minutes and watch and see the activity of what’s going on.

It was time to go through passport control and exit the EU and get on the ferry over. The ferry was about half full and we all sort of spread out and I tried to get a window seat so I could enjoy the view. The weather on the crossing was just atrocious, with 10+ ft waves and serious windage. The boat was rolling more than I would have liked it to be, and it was like a roller coaster ride. The passengers were chastised by the crew in 4 languages to sit the fuck down and not get tossed about.

Once we docked, we went through immigration on the boat on a table and met up with our guide, Hassan. We all crowded into a minivan and headed out for a tour of the town. I wasn’t sure what to expect out of Tangier, other than it was super cosmopolitan. But we were on a whirlwind ride and had a schedule to keep. We didn’t stop really long enough for me to get any good pictures because I was shooting through the windows on the side of the car. Our first stop was the mandatory photo-op with a camel and I bought a fez off a huckster for €9, which was about €7 too much. But I didn’t feel like haggling because I got the impression we were like lambs to the slaughter and everywhere we went we’d be harassed and get a good sales push. It was like Bangkok all over again. We did drive by one of the palaces of the King of Morocco but I wasn’t allowed to snap photos because there might be trouble with the authorities. I had to be content with taking a photo of a palace that was owned by Malcolm Forbes instead.

We started our tour of the infamous casbah. I wasn’t sure what to expect so I just sort of dove in. On the way, we were surrounded by people trying to sell us various things. I got pretty good at avoiding and ignoring them. I had some dude try to put a fez on my head and kissed my cheek. I responded with the only two Arabic phrases I knew and shouted “Kkewed! IMSHI!!!!” (“Fuck off! AWAY!!!!”) Our guide was a little shocked but laughed. “I thought you didn’t know any Arabic?” “That’s pretty much it, boss.”

Our first stop was a carpet place, which was absolutely magnificent. However, I really have no need for carpet or to decorate the bachelor pad any more than usual. Hell, it took me 2 years to hang something on the wall. So the idea of me paying €300 or more for a rug was just rubbish even if they were pretty pimp looking. I used the old excuse that my dogs would destroy it (I was thinking of gifting it to my mom and stepdad, but would be worried that the unholy trio of bichon frises would trash it). After being stalked about on the sales floor, I managed to escape with buying my mom a nice jewelry case, which I’m pretty sure I paid too much for but I had felt like it was a moral victory to escape without too much damage done.

We went to go check out a spice store and I did like what was there but seeing I don’t cook much and the prospect of me being detained by Customs in Spain carrying a plastic bag full of a green leafy substance didn’t appeal to me, so I just sort of walked around and waited for the other couples to buy things before we headed off to our lunch of kabobs and the like. We ended the stop at a jewelry store and I used the infamous “I can’t buy anything for my mom because she died in a tragic gazebo collapse” line to ward off the salesman.

We finished up our tour of the city and ended up going back to the Port of Tangier and got our passports stamped on the way out and waited a bit before reboarding the ferry back to Algeciras. The ride back was the same as on the way over – big waves, lots of rolling. Not much fun but it was worth it. I wanted to go back to Morocco but hopefully not get ambushed by people trying to sell you things everywhere.

So we headed back to Gibraltar. The border crossing into Gibraltar was different. We didn’t have to get off the van to cross the border. We merely held our passports up against the window as we drove by. That itself was pretty messed up – it was like crossing on the honor system. I had dinner that night with the Canadian folks at a bar called the Cannon Bar next to the hotel where I had killer chicken curry (seriously, this rocked) and we played pub trivia. I thought of Philly Girl because she plays this a lot and it was rough for us because it was a Yankee and a Canadian playing UK pop culture trivia. It was funny anyway. I stayed later than I should have and went back to the hotel to crash early and start to pack so I can sprint from the day tour tomorrow back immediately to the airport.

Yes, I know, it’s been a while since I’ve written, but bite me.

Since I had Sunday to kill off, I decided to take a bus to Europa Point and catch a view of Morocco. While the visibility was somewhat limited, it was still pretty cool to stand on one continent and see another. I did meet up with a Canadian family who took 15 months off and decided to sail around Europe. I wish I had that opportunity to do that as a kid because I don’t think that they really appreciate it. I did pop my head in the mosque paid for by King Fahad Bin Abdul Aziz Al Saud from Saudi Arabia. It was pretty impressive. I’ve never been in a mosque before (mainly because I’m a heathen) and it was interesting. Fabulous architecture, though. I tried to head over into the Shrine and Museum of Our Lady of Europe and it was was rather interesting but I got bored quickly. I then took a walk back to Parson’s Lodge with the family from Canuckistan and we got tossed out because there’s a patio on top of the Lodge and we just took a stroll off the patio. Oops. After that, I went to the Caleta Hotel on the other side of Gibraltar and went to a restaurant that was supposedly the shit, La Mamela, for dinner. Well, it was closed (it was also closed on Monday night too, which sucked). I gave up and went back to Irish Town and had chinese which was disappointing with really small portions. So I went out later and got Pizza Hut, which makes it like 9 countries that I’ve had Pizza Hut in (why, I don’t know – it’s stupid but funny). I ended up going back to The Star Bar and having a few drinks while catching up on work email on the Crackberry while the shitty movie Cellular was on Sky TV. It was pretty funny to have them rip on the movie and think that the US is all like Hollywood.

Monday meant getting my ass in gear if I wanted to go to Tangier on Tuesday so I went to Parodytur Tours first thing in the morning to see if I could get on the tour on Tuesday but I needed to come back around noonish. I went to the Trafalgar Cemetary and read the monuments to the people who died in the Battle of Trafalgar. To my surprise, only 4 people who died at Gibraltar are buried in the Trafalgar Cemetary. The rest were people who died in defense of Gibraltar from various sieges. I then went to the Gibraltar Museum, which started out as a small museum but it took me nearly 2 hours to get around and read pretty much everything. I was really surprised at how cool the Medieval Baths were, along with some of the military aspects of Gibraltar.

So I went back and booked the tours for Tangier and to Marbella, Spain for Tuesday and Wednesday, respectively. After lunch I decided to head to the 100-Ton gun. It was pretty impressive, mainly because from the time that they had notification to the time they could fire the first round it was 3 hours. That’s a long freakin’ time, but boats under sail don’t move that fast so you had ample enough time to prepare if you had good visibility. But the gun never saw wartime action, so it was mainly there as a deterrant.

After the 100-Ton gun, I decided to take the bus north again to the Frontier and walk across the border into La Linea, Spain and actually do some walking around. It was quite a cool little border town. I got somewhat lost trying to find a bullfighting museum so I took a walk around a shopping area and bought postcards for my stepdad and had a beer and walked back across the border to have dinner and try to get a good night’s sleep before the big trip across the straits to Tangier.

It’s 10 more days until I head out to Prague for a long weekend. It should be nice to actually stay in one place as opposed to when I was in Gibraltar last week where it was day trip after day trip and the number of passport stamps and currencies handled were nuts (I think I got 10 stamps and handled 4 currencies, not sure). But then again I am transiting through Brussels and Zurich so I should bring some spare cash to pick up chotchkis along the way.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and I am not going to do anything. I am enjoying my singledom and realizing that I’m spending a lot of time and energy chasing after women who want me around, but only want me around as a friend. I got my annual statements from Citibank over the weekend and it was sort of scary to go through my credit card statements to calculate how much I spent on failed dating in 2005. I sort of gave up after my back of the envelope calcualation exceeded $2000 because it was depressing.

I don’t think I’m going to go back to Australia this year. I’m just not sure if I want to go there, mainly because the fare situation isn’t behaving. I think what I will end up doing instead is taking two weeks in Dubai after Ramadan (or just wait until DSF in Jan 2007) and bounce around there, including seeing if I can’t get 4-5 days in Tehran in. Stupid, yes, I know. But why not? It’d make for a good story and I’d have kickass photos. In April I might end up going to Luxembourg and back to Berlin for a long weekend and then look at Buenos Aires in June-ish.

Oh and I will finish up the Gibraltar writeup soon. I just have to remember what I did and combine notes from a few sources. Disorganization rocks!