Posted 12:47 PM by Gobbler
So off i went to the airport. There was a fair bit of hanging around as i think i missed my original tour but in due course i climbed aboard one of those nice four seater jobbies. i was next to the pilot who was a happy soul. He duly made the plane fly and spun us around a few nice shapes to be seen on the ground. humming bird, spider, tree, whale, monkey, triangle shapes, mysterious runway type things. my personal favourite was the 'astronaut', a funny chap on the side of a hill, by one of the 'runways' with what looks like breathing apparatus in his gob and waving at something. Many theories have been posited as to what its all about including the inevitable ufo theorists. Well, the astronaut was definitely very wierd and doesnt seem to have an obvious or normal reason for existing. He looks cool too, some of you punks out there will be lucky enough to see pictures before too long. In truth it was often more interesting to watch the panamerican highway lance into the distance and see the swirly patterns left by the dried up waterways. It surely does not rain much in these parts, something like once every 14 or 40 years i heard. If youre going to draw pretty shapes in the sand then this place is ideal. Perhaps thats what the Peruvian tourist board thought some years ago when they decided to turn this part of the world into a tourist attraction...

So after spinning around in the rickety aeroplane for a bit we were successfully returned to earth. I then returned to my hostel to consume my continental breakfast. Continental breakfasts always sound good but in peru the reality is that continental breakfast means two small rolls, jam and butter, and coffee of some description and taste. No croissants anywhere. Not even a sniff of a pain au chocolat or anything else vaguely continental. What the blinkers, i ask you, is continental about bread and jam? Do they call it that because you get it in every continent in the world cos its the cheapest thing hostels can provide bar giving you flour or newspaper to chew on? Newspapers probably cost more than these damn rolls anyway. But if they advertised breakfast as 'two small dry rolls and a little butter and jam' i dont suppose they would enthuse that many people with such marketing. Continental always sounds good. French breakfast is another popular choice with cheap places as they seem to find justice in translating 'toast (and marmalade)' into 'French Breakfast' 'Continental' seems the more popular choice tho as it sounds grander. The sods. I'd like to see what they did with a full english breakfast. you'd probably just get a full cup of english breakfast tea. the bastards. All inclusive breakfasts are all very well in their place (i.e. expensive hotels. i had a free brekkie in a posh hotel in bali and it was 'rocking') but when youre only paying 3 pounds fifty for the room the breakfast may well be included but it wont include all that much. Perhaps i'm supposed to eat the serviettes. I do wonder what the stirling staff at Ricotas would make of it all.

After the flight and breakfast (you are advised to have breakfast after the flight as a lot of people throw up or get ill (not sure whether this is due to the average quality of the breakfast or the bumpiness of the flight. I find it difficult to see how you can throw up after eating a bread roll, one isnt exactly stuffed)) i went off for the next part of the tour, to the cementary. This involved a twenty minute drive in a massive old american caddillac (or similar) contraption into the desert. There were six of us touristicos in the car and we all fitted in ok. The two dutch in the group didnt speak spanish and the guide was having an off day as regards his english, and in anycase two of the frenchies in the group spoke neither language much. This is a little confusing but it means that the guide spoke spanish and i translated for the two dutchies. The guide spoke clearly and used pretty obvious language and gestures so i was able to understand most of what he was saying, but for the sake of my ignorant dutch amigos i embellished a few points as my whim directed. Quite a jolly time. Basically the cementary consists of twelve tombs with old mummies with long hair in and a few bones hither and thither. they are quite well preserved. Although now that they have been uncovered and are pertially exposed to the elements they wont last much longer. But hey, theyre dead anyway and i got to see them! Allow me to describe them a littlew more. theyre people who died a couple of thousand years ago or so, they got mummified with their possessions in the foetal position so that they could be resurrected by whoever they supposed was in the resurrection business at the time. Something went wrong with the process however as they are still here, and have gone from being archaeological subjects to grave robber victims to tourist curiosities. Probably not what the nazca people envisaged when they dug holes in the ground, removed the mummies' internal organs, severed the ligaments to allow assumption of the foetal position, embalmed and finally mummifed the corpses, and popped them in the ground with due pomp and ceremony. Tough chuddies.

After that interesting appointment we headed to a local workshop where we saw how they make pots. I did pottery at school with the potting genius that is or was Miss De Mauney, and so i knew what was what and as a result was not overly fascinated as the lady began: 'this is how we make a pot...' i amused myself with the english translations for the dutch duo instead.

The final and unexpected addition to the tour was the demonstration of how the local gold mine operates. I now know how to mine for gold. Its all about iron balls, big hammers and quick silver you see. I cant tell you any more because i may use this information to make millions, buy the icy core and take over the world. Which reminds me, what has happened to doctor Octagon. Did all the pressure of being so terribly evil finally get to him and he has imploded? Somebody must know something.

After that was done the tour was over and we returned to the hotel. I was late for check out but they let me take a shower and afterwards i went in search of lunch. Adhering to the Imperial Ricota Standard (I.R.S.) i did not return to the restaurant that provided me with the spag bol last night. I took a different street and in due course found a place that was advertising two different pollo (chicken) related dishes. It was in spanish, i didnt really understand what the sign said and it didnt advertsise prices. I thought 'that looks splendid' and strolled in. I sat down and tried to order a coke and the first pollo related thing on the board outside (they didnt seem to have a menu) but i didnt make a vdery good job of it and she kept asking me funny questions that i could make neither head nor tail of. So i took to saying 'si' whenever she said something that i thought contsained the word 'pollo'. Finally she seemed satisfied and went away and as she did so i realised that i had almost certainly just ordered two dishes. However, she seemed happy, i couldnt face trying to argue, so i sat back, sipped on my coke, and waited. The odd local in the joint looked across at me occassionally with inquisitive looks. I glanced around and thought about what my lunch might be.

In due course a bowl of orange-ish watery soup was served. It contained one bit of bone that had a little cartiledgey chicken hanging off it. It was quite pleasant, but i did think 'oh bugger, is this all i'm going to get? i'll starve on the bus.' I finished the soup and sat back again, waiting to see what might happen next. I had earlier on heard some encouraging sizzling noises coming from the door way in the corner of the small room, the restaurant, i was in, and so had some hope. Before long the main course was served, chicken pieces and rice. Not a bad eat. not bad at all.

Finished that and thought i'd better find out what the bill was. i had up to this point not found out any of the prices were, so i was a little hesitant. I didnt ask for the bill like in a restaurant, i figured that might confuse them, so i just asked, 'how much is it?' four soles, 1 dollar 15, 75 pence. Splendid. I.R.S. Approved.

Now its five to four. i came to internet directly after lunch and remarkably i feel hungry again but will hold out for a while. got to be at the hbus station at about half four, 55 (about 9 quid) soles 16 hour bus to cusco leaves at five

talk backs for a moment: Tinderstick: ah, tinders, choola indeed. dont suppose you know where i can get my hands on puddings email address do you? i'm sure she'd appreciate it. Actually i think dom's got it. And believe me boiler suit girl i'm pretty sure just wanted someone to practice on. very special people in this world you know. youre not the only one! Laura: good thinking about evil unc and boiler suit woman, forced evil unc into the confession that it was he. Foul times are these. How was the students union. Nothing worse than damned hippie students you know. exfept of of course damned hippies and their even more damned hippie clothing. How many hippies did you see? Did you tell them that they were damned? I think its only fair to let these people know so taht they can prepare for their end. Nazca is in southern peru, thats all the help youre getting. Evil Uncle: Like i said, expect to see that boiler suit at chrimbo. And as to my spanish skills, well, you'd be amazed at how much crap i speak sometimes. Lovelybubbley: thankfully boiler suit thing is long and gone, and no such terrors have been encountered in nazca. but i'm evacuating this place today after less than 24 hours, just in case shes following me. And problems with britains creamers eh? Its nice to see another eccentric british aristocrat with lots of money and nothing to do. 'I say Beatrix, heres a jolly thing. You know how I've been making all these splendid ice-creams in the drawing room these last twelve years? Well, wouldnt it be jolly to sell them to all the nice beach goers? I bet we could do a roaring trade, and of course it would be ripping fun...' Lord Coke vs. Mr Harber. Just how in the name of bejigammy criggers does one get a name like Lord Coke anyway? it doesnt sound very aristocratic

Posted 12:38 PM by Gobbler
The Nazca blogs

I was woken up at half past seven today so that i could get a shower and have breakfast before my eight oclock departure for the airport. I was re-awoken at eight a.m. unshowered and unclothed and rapidly becoming late for the tour. Scrambling on some clothes i joined tour operator matey at the door of the hostel and we made the few short steps to the tour centre. So far not too bad.

As i waited for things to kick off i waw highly amused to note that the tour to the cemetary was listed as the tour to the cementary, which is, presumably, cement factory. I'm just going to blog this quickly because i think the machine is disfunctional i.e.. it doesnt work very well and i dont want to lose the blog

Posted 8:50 PM by Gobbler
Somebody blog me

ha, tho one internet cafe closes, there is always another just round the corner. or in this case just up the road. this wont be a long blog tho as i'm a bit done over today. So, bus journey was magnifico. admittedly it did leave an hour late (actually i'm sceptical there ever was a half ten bus as the lady offered me a half 11 bus as well and thats when the half tne bus left, buyt anyway)but it only took eight hours as advertised. Loads of slums to be driven past coming out of lima although mst seem to hgave concrete and brick abodes and have leccy so they cant be too bad. might even consider moving there one dy, i bet the rent is cheap.

Nazca is a fairly small joint although thankfully it has its fair sahre of internet bureaus. Booked myself on a plane tour of nazca tomorrow and a trip to the cemetary. Costng me fifty bucks. i could have got a cheaper tour, perhaps for twenty five, but this includes transport and trip to the cemetary and pottery place which i persuaded the guy to throw in. so tomorrow i'm off to look at lots of pretty pictures in the sand, then after that i'm off to cusco on a 25 odd hour terminal treat of a bus rides. i do like a good ride as much as the next man but 25 hours is a little much and the road promises to be a nasty bugger. whats worse i dont think ormeno (the people who got me here, probably the finest bus people in the world) go there so i'll probably have to pay more hardcore tourist rates. we will see.

Well now you lot, i think i'll leave off here, i'm a bit done over. i'll leave off talk backs til tomorrow so that i can do them proper justice. I will just mention that to my relief there is no boiler suit woman in these parts. (at least not that i've seen, although the guiy next to me has asked me the date so perhaps its all starting again) Evil Unc, you did look fetching in that boiler suit, i expect to see you sporting it at christmas. the alternative is to wear the one piece pyjama number that tinderstick has referred to. This absolute beaty, made from that kitchen tea-towel material popular among the small people of this world, and brightly patterned with cartoon characters, is basically a pair of elasticated but otherwise very saggy Y-fronts and a t-shirt all in one. Trust us it is splendid, but perhaps more on that later. and tinderstick, thde dude story did begin by saying that it was your story you know. And by the way, is there any truth in my hypothesis that you were all looking for ice creams? And if i dont get a chance to get through to you before monterrico, enjoy. And yes, the idea of coming back to antigua to assist you with your enterprises. Modelling that charming number would surely be a pleasure. Can you make it a flowery number? Yours, young, naive and unruined...

Oh, and one more thing everyone. After i had picked up my room here for twenty soles and chatted to the matey a bit about his lovely tour that he was flogging, en espanol i should point out, i, after a dinner that wasnt quite up to the superb ricotas standards in any way but nevertheless filled a hole, returned to my hostel hotel for tourists to put my passport etc into safekeeping. The receptionist is of the lady persuasion and there were a few of blokes around reception chatting away. Anyway, one of them made some sarcy comment to the receptionist. I've no idea what it was, but i did hear her say 'shut up he speaks spanish!' so i made like i knew what they said, gave amused looks and chuckled a bit. Speaks spanish my arse. Well, nice to see that i must have learnt something. Need to find a dictionary so that i can find out some more words of importance (what does entonces mean? its smething like 'so' and i'm pretty sure that saying 'i need security for this' isnt the best way of saying 'do you have a safe?' But still, one cant have anything, and if i'd bothered to study more in antigua i would have been unable to forge such esplendido international relations. So we see that not everything in this world can be measured in terms of the price of eggs or of the quantitative and qwualitative differences between the various methods of preparing said eggs. Current favourite is scrambled but i always use to be a regular fried sunny side up kind of chap.

oh, just one more thing. arunsun i would of course be delighted to add your sire to my list but i am a technicological gull and you'll have to tell me how to do it. alternatively contact my techical department (technically rachel but i have my doubts sometimes) who will be happy to assist you further. its eleven o'clock in the pm and im going to go away now to see if the world has got anything else in store for me before i go bedways for a little dreaming. Ciao

Posted 8:01 PM by Gobbler
shit just lost a bit of blog

no time now, in nazca, place is closing, all good economico buses the way forward, 3 pound 50 for eight hours, nice nice nice. Go to the blog they said, see the blog they said. And all i got was boiler suit thing. Waht a world what a world. Doing lines tomorrow, 50 bucks with free tour of cemetary, nicenjnjiecnice have to do tbtb's tomorrow when i have moretime. so long punks, and tahnks for all the fish. i mean talk backs. by jimminy (oi oi there you old you you you), im not sure this all makes much sense.

Posted 6:04 PM by Gobbler
take a blog on the national express

good heavens, i've just spent the last oh almost two hours writing comments on other peoples blogspots, which is nice. I write by many aliases depending on the subject matter and recipient. Of late i have been 'Wibble
Wobble, the wobbling Wibbler of Wobbleton, Wibbleshire' (out of deference to my extraordinary besocked hat in the thirteen clocks, guess you had to be there), 'Master Nicholas James Goulden', and 'S. American Revolutionary Mad Dog'. I suppose that its a bit silly to give my true self away like this but then i dont suppose they were really fooled anyway.

Today is turning out to be another good one, although i must confess that i'm not doing all that much. But the key thing today was that i rang up to book a ticket to nazca my next port of call.

This i concede does not sound all that impressive. but trying to negotiate prices and times and locations and stuff over a crackly phone in espanol is actually a bit tricky. Especially as the first company i rang up vehemently denied running a service to nazca, twice (thought i'd double check) and the second company i rang up turned out to be someojnes private number ("oh hello, i need a ticket to nazca please""?Que?"). Eventually some nice chap i met in the hostel gave me the number for a company he knew. I rang that up and was in the middle of negociations when the beep on the payphone went off, indicating i was low on money. I acrambled to put in more money but the damned machine would not accept it and so i was cut off. I tried again, shoved loads of credit into the phone and eventually booked the ticket. I wasnt sure what she was saying a lot of the time so i just gave back bus ticket related questions (?a que eth ethethethetheth ethethetehth? Yes, i'd like a ticket for half past ten please) I was completed stumped when she askes me for my apellido. It sounded familiar, i had heard it before, but i knew i was lost here. Whats worse, i never learnt what 'i dont understand'. (i've always just used 'no comprendo'. it usually produces a confused expression but it means that they stop talking to me which is usually what i want) in the pregnant pause that ensued i scrambled the lonely planet phrase guide at the back and eventually came back with 'no entiendo' (i dont understand). She said in english 'surname'. Ah. not a complicated word then. Probably about the fifth word i 'learnt'. Ho well, with a bit of luck i'm booked on the half ten bus to nazca tomorrow morning. i've got to get there at ten to pay for my ticket. i'm travelling economico, only paying 20 soles, which is four quid or the price of two cans of murpheys. and its an eight hour journey. They have however given me a seat number so it cant be too economico. When i went into the tourist information place i had been recommended the other day the sods quoted me 30 US dollars for the same journey, which is 105 soles (the price of ten cans of murpheys). If i had not learnt all that lovely spanish i would not have been able to do that on the phone, although i suppose i could have got my english speaking landlord to do it for me, but thats no the point. the point is that i can save some serious doh by knowing a bit of lingo. (thus allowing me to buy more cans of murpheys). We will see where we get to.

went back to ricotas for lunch today, but spock was not there. i guess hes off on an away mission. Theyre all being splendidly nice to me and a couple have introduced themselves. it occurs to me that, as whenever i go there i get out my diary and write things down, or sit there sucking my pen as if i am about to write something down i,mportant, they may think that i am some travel writer and that if they are nice to me i will give them a good write up. little do they know i am just some silly punk who likes their food and is intrigued by the reasons for the cataclysmic downfall of spocks career.

now that ive booked a ticket over the phone, very exciting, i will be able to do this more often.

oh god! breaking news people, breaking news.
The dodgy woman sitting next to me in the boiler suit who has been asking me occassional questions very now and then and has borrowed my pen, just asked me i think if i could translate something into spanish for her. So i went over to her computer to take a look. she brought up on screen a lot, and i mean hundreds, of little hard core porn pictures, gay porn, stuff like that. I'm not exactly sure what she wanted me to translate, there doesnt seem to be all that much literature. perhaps she wants me to describe in english what is happening in the pictures, a sort of ´peruvian version of roy walkers catchphrase 'Say what you see'. She speaks with a strong accent and a lisp and i'm a little worried she'll asks me for some more assistance in a minute. She keeps looking across. I'm quite happy to help her out, if i copuld work out what she wants. i'm tempted to say 'necesitas traduccion?' (do you need a translation?). oh, she just mumbled something at me that i cant fathom for a moment. I glanced across again at her screen and those... She just invited me to join her to watch some clips of some boys in action videos. she did ask me if i was offended (tu se molestas or something loike that) and i said no not particularly but I indicated that i did not know why she wanted me to see them. She wasnt providing too many lispy answers to my questions so i held on in case there was actually a reason why she wanted me to watch gay porn with her. Apparently not. She keeps switching from the clips to MS Messenger, it seems that what she is watching has something to do wityh what she is writing. She doesnt seem to have any questions for me, it seems she just wanted me to join in the experience. The idea has been fluttering through my mind that it might be a bloke, it would be more in keeping with the gay porn and boiler suit but she doesnt look too manly. Just a thought.

I am now quite put off my train of thought... just got called over again. i think shes trying to explain that she has some connection with the films. she seems tyo want to know the technical terms for the various activities. anyone know what blowjob is in spanish? Evil Unc., throw me a bone here (no pun intended). Maybe on messenger shes pretending to be a bloke and wants to get down with the lingo. she just called me over again. What does a gentleman think about when he masturbates? lots of other questions about the pracfticalities and the proceedures. I dont know why she wants to know, i dont want to know why she wants to know. it is ridiculous that a girl is asking me questions about male gay sex. It is even more ridiculous that i am sitting in an internet cafe in lima talking about it in spanish. in fairness shes not wearing a boiler suit, it just looked that way out of the corner of my eye. shes wearing jeans and some purple plasticcy jacket. I have completely forgotten whjat it was that i was talking about and i fear that i may be mentally scarred for a while after this curious incident. I'm going to have to leave i think, she seems to regard me as some kind of font of gay knowledge and as such wont leave me alone. Good heavens, i think she wants to give me one, and now i'm not sure if its actually a bloke! Ahh!! Help. Anyone know what help is in spanish? Im really not sure whats going on. I have a similar sencse of unreality as brandon r. flumerfelt had when he was sucked into a gambling scam back in hong kong. I may never escape this foul'breathed girl. small compensation is that she speaks no english so that, tho she is only feet away from me i can write what i like without fear of her working out what it is that i am saying.

So, anyway, phew. i was talking about the bus ticket situation, and, tho boiler suit girl (we've established that shes not wearing one but thats what we'll call her) keeps glancing ominously in my direction. It seemed she wants to practice technique. The trouble is that i am not exactly sure what it is that i said to her so i dont know exactly what state of play she thinks shes in. I do wish she would go away tho.

Well, i hope this entry hasnt offended anyone to the point of complaint. I'm only writing what i'm seeing, its hardly my fauilt if the world is full of wierdos, i mean sexually liberated individuals. gerr, she is looking a bit more manly now. scary stuff indeed. Your work Evil Unc?

i'll do talkbacks then i'll run back to my restaurant for a beer and safety.

Very glad to have lots of talk backs, boiler suit keeps giving me what i imagine she/he/it thinks are enticing looks and wants me to watch more dodgy films with her/him/it. Thank you all, you're making me feel more normal, and the world with it.

Ozymandius: They are lyrics from some artiste (or other) but i didnt think of them as fiendish or satanic. And i dont think i am insane. But then one never knows, if the worlds got boiler suit girl in it then i might just be mad as the hatter.

Rachel: Splendid show, splendid show. Whites are all white by me. ho ho.

Evil Uncle: I always did wonder what paddington bear was doing at paddington station. i have to say that i have often wondered just what Paddington Bear was doing at Paddington station with i label on his raincoat saying 'Please look after this bear.' I always supposed that no-one actually knew and that the poor fellow was completely homeless. Dont suppose you know how he got from lima to paddington do you? Or is it one of lifes great mysteries - i should point out that i'm still being hounded by boiler suit girl - that has never been solved?
Laura wasnt the robbie williams would be knicker tosser, that was sue, and i havent heard from her since. Will hit columbia if pos, but coca leaves are legal in these parts so i might be all right here.

the_bro: no golf signs spotted as yet. I do remember seeing one in Edinburgh tho a couple of years ago and have no doubt seen them elsaewhere. the most interesting thing on the streets of lima is the odd policeman with a riot shield and an armoured car by the presidential palace that had a big machine gun poking out of it. perhaps they are patrolling for golf sale sign holders. that would explain the absence of golf sales. To be frank bro, i just dont know, but i'll keep a sharp look out and if i see one i'll be sure to thoroughly investigate and provide a full report. And amazingly, tho i'm two watches down on this trip, i havent had mine stolen here. it would be no great loss tho if i did have it knicked as it only cost me four bucks in Bali. tho i would have to buy another oone which would be an arse. and i must give you advanced warning - i'm going to be taking a train in cusco. damned funny. into the distance. and in answer to the question, its really not about the leaflets or the golf sale signspeople, its really about the nutters and the creamers. they make millions, i'd go that way, thats my advice. In lima they shoot people who try to advertise golf sales, they know the evil they propagate.

Laura: Slander dealt with, see tbtb for evil unc above. trouble is old unc just cant get knickers off his mind. Perhaps you could recommend some avenues for help? And please tell me, what the blinking wotsits was paddington bear doing in peru? theres a local version of the naughty elephants squirt water that i have come acroos lately. it derives from wierdo boiler suit girl: Newfangled e-mail-stranger sucks willies. Shocking indeed.

Lovelybubbley: excellent, the servants live and work in dark underground passages. You must get me the address for the place, I'm going to buy it. Nothing like a good old eccentric aristocrat obsessed with birds. Maybe you should introduce him to trish? Thanks for the info on hysterectomy, most informative. I see there is some confusion as to the words diachrony, but that cant be helped. And its nice to see that the greeks thought that women came first. What a lovely idea... By the way, and i dont want to be pinnicity (how do you spell that?) i thought Q.E.D. was Quod Erat Demonstrandum? the gist is the same i do concede.

Hockey Rich: less of the expletives if you please old boy, and no more excuses.

All The rest: Your favourite band is punk floyd, your favourite food is punkkin, your favourite colour is punk. You are punks.

Posted 8:39 PM by Gobbler
If you go out at night and look at the sky some nights you'll see the wonderbirds soaring high. who knows why they're only out at night, or whats the reason for their flight? but how happy they seem to me up there, their graceful wings are free.
i wonder if they look down at us and wonder why we're on the ground. Dont we know that the world is round and bouncy like a ball? if we just leap and jump a bit we too can have it all. i watch the wonderbirds at night, i see them soaring high and sometimes i feel their magic lifting me and know i too can fly.

Right you cheeky chappies out there heres some talk back talk backs:

Tulsa hilton: basically, the world doesnt play enough cricket. it doesnt drink enough tea either, but i feel this problem will be assuaged by people playing more cricket. when playing cricket you have a tea break after about 12 hours of play and in the tea break you drink tea. so you see that the two really go together quite marvellously. Oh, and glad you appreciate my business acumen. between you and me, my first move will be to get some nuts and a shoeshine kit and a cream mobile and a umbrella shop and stick tyhem all together and go to antigua and sell my wares. this time next year i'll be a millionaire.

Laura: that stuff about the gripe sheets was a treat and a half and i am honoured that you felt the desire to blog it for us all. muy divertido, gracias. mental health continues unabated, on the look out for guinea pig, i wonder if that splendid restaurant i went to has it? Why Paddington Bear, whats he up to? Not off gallivanting again is he? And guinea pig should be stone baked eh? roger that, i'll make sure its done properly. dont know if that slendid restaurant ricotas has a stone on which to bake things, if not i'll get spock to beam one in.

Rachel: Ah yes rach, i remember this particular talk back. Let me refresh your memory as it was some days ago. "What colour clothing should cricketers wear?" A most important question in my opinion and indeed a simple one. Cricketers should always wear white. That is why cricket uniforms are known as 'whites'. All this cheap multicoloured nonsense should be put to a stern stop immediately, and let me explain why. Point one: cricket is a gentlemans (or, to be fair in this time of womens liberation, ladies) game. Ludicrous bright colours will only serve to put the batsman (or again, batswoman) off. In my considered opinion the batter has a hard enough job already. If everyone on the field wears white, everyone is in the same boat. it is fair. Point two: now, im all in favour of team colours and i recognise the need for each team to be recognisable to the cricketing world. But for heavens sake, there is no need for boisterous showmongery! That is what the blazer is for, that is what the neckerchief is for, that is what the cap is for! it is not what the whites are for! The whites are for being white! Point Three: in any normal game of cricket, tho i apprecate this is no longer the case with this newfangled multicoloured county and beyond one day cricketing nonsense, the ball is red. Red balls show up very well against a white background, but not against a red. with all these funny colours being whistled around, the batting fellow may find himself in all kinds of problems. Lets keep things on a level playing field. (except of course at lords) White whites. Red Ball. I think my position on this subject is quite clear.

OH, while i'm on the subject of womens liberation and ths is no longer directd solely at you rach, but the world at large, i have something else to say. i am a student of history, or was in my younger and wilder days. i remember some mad feminist tpyes getting all shirty about historybeing spelt HIStory and not herstory and how women were being overlooked and all that. well now, ok. if thats what they want, if that'll make'em happy, i say lets change it. But why stop there? lets not go off half cocked now. there are other his- things that we can change as well, and there are many that are far more appropriate for modernising or de-masculinating or un-chauvenating or whatever its called as well. I have a prime example: histerical, histeria. Far more appropriate if it was hersterical and hersteria. I can see it now: 'nnow now dear, dont get hersterical... like i said, womens lib.. love it. hersterectomy, thats another good one...

Lovelybubbly: maggie used to play county cricket eh? what will she think of next? next you'll be telling me that shes become a train driver! Thanks for continued info on granny, will smuggle home some coca leaves for her, that should certainly perk her up. Thats a christmas present and a half! come down and join the mortals? mortals shmortals mother dear.

Sianodel: my dear fellow, you "always thought that cricket consisted of standing in the outfield and ocasionally walking toward the wicket, clapping and shouting "bowled!""? Didnt you know there was tea in the middle of that delightful process? Tea, my dear fellow, and sometimes sandwiches as well! thanks a lot for the added info on the noble game of cricket. a match that lasted 11days! who would have thought it. how thoroughly marvellous.

Evil Uncle: Due to budget cutbacks i have indeed had to sack my cook. Its much more economical this way, but things cn get very tiring having to cook for myself all the time. Oh, and note to self: dont get married until you have enough money to employ lots of staff so i can tell wife to 'sack my cook' daily.

Tinderstick: your plans to start a poncho knitting business sounds entirely sound in my estimation. there seems to be a gap in the market for knitted ponchos. I highly recommend building a factory in the caves underneath the central park in antigua and setting up a sweat shop. You can feed the workers nuts and ice creams. this will help out those sectors of the market, which i also recommend investing in. in return make the creamers and nutters wear your ponchos. it'll be a splendid trade agreement. Also i recommend getting your workers to knit umbrellas as well as ponchos. pink and green i think would look nice tho of course its up to you. and what about hot dog stands? they seem to work just about everywhere else. mexico is crawling with the blinking things. That way people can buy a hot dog with a bag of nuts and the cream will help the whole lot slip down. an unusual but i suspect delicious combination. What do you thinl? well, that should be enough to get you started. If i can give you any more advice do let me know. Oh, and i should add, two of the most delightful words i ever did read. yes, let's.

Papa Smirf: well old boy i must admit that i do feel a little drugged of late. it is highly addictive but its also legal and available everywhere including at all good bookstores. i am not at liberty to disclose what it is but i can add that you can also start fires with it. And it is Esplendido.

Now thats some fair old talk back talk back. its nearly midnight here, and i may ahve to stay in lima for another day. it'll have to be the last one asn already i can feel that i'm running out of time. but i do like to blog.

Posted 5:26 PM by Gobbler
I cant be blogged

I'm sitting here in some cafe in lima and i dont feel much like blogging. That is to say, i do want to blog, but i have a headache, the screen is blurry , which makes my headache worse, and i cant access my talkbacks, which always puts me out of mood for writing. Sometimes i can access the talk backs but havent actually got any. this is bad too but somehow not as bad as not actually being able to access them at all. it feels as if something is missing in the whole blog experience. Especially as, of late, the talk backs have been of a high and escalating calibre. which is of course splendid. Thankyou people, keep them coming, even tho the blog god has denied me access to them for the moment. I will plough on into the blog, and see what gets thrown up.

THE DUDE (Material kindly donated by Tinderstick)

The world is full ofg many different types of people. Punks are well known and a common problem. There are, aside from punks, a superabundance of other dubious groups, labels by which people are known. For example we also have dudes. Now, arguably, a punk is a special tpye of person, like a rasta or a jehovahs witness or a hippie (let us not forget the damneds hippies and their even more damned hippie clothing). These people can claim to have a philosophy and indeed a religion of their own with some credibility. For example, being a hippie may be a damned way of life but it is still a way of life.

Othre names for people like mate, man, son, chap, dude, friend, buddy, matey, chum, bud, (old) boy, pal and so on are surely just variations on the same generic theme; (i say 'generic' with some trepidation as i am not entirely sure what it means) they are words, noises really, pronounced with a particular intonation to express a specific sentiment towards the person to whom you are referring. Not all of them are suitable for all people, for example you would be unlikely to refer to your dad as your bud, (well i wouldnt anyway) but on the whole you can be fairly liberal with your addresses without any danger of causing affrontery. Normally.

there are exceptions to every rule. Some time ago, two friends were walking along an L.A. beach. i dont know why they were walking along the beach. Let us imagine they were looking for ice creams. However, as the robin reliant cream mobiles are restricted to central america, mostly in Antigua main square, they were having trouble finding them. hence the trip along the ´path by the beach. Perhaps they never even got their ice creams, or perhaps they did and had a magnum and a pink foot and a calypso and one of those tasty green twister things. We will never know. We will never know because the story never gets that far. You'll have tpo decide for yourselves. in truth, not only does the story not get that far, its nnot even part of the story at all. There wasnt a sniff of an ice cream in the original tale. i just said it to give the story a bit of colour, make the scene and its characters a little more 3-dimensional. Give it an element of realism that would otherwise ahve been lacking. I should assert that this is a true story, that its characters (especially the subject of the story, who has yet to make an appearance) are genuine.

So , anyway, these two are walking down the beach, very possibly looking for a cream machine but not necessarily. We dont know these details so we will move on. As they walked along some guy copmes up to them and asks them a question. This person is young and dr4essed in what he supposes to be the hip and trendy raibends of the day. I imagine that he has blonde hair and is part of the surfer crowd, but i{m not sure. Lets pretend that is the case. So, he asks the two people, Karin from Sweden and an Australan guy who we will for the sake of completeness call Ozzy, a question. I dont honestly know what the question was. Let us assume that he is looking for an ice cream, and is under the misguided impression that these two foreigners know things, specifically about the location of nearby creamers. Little does he know that they too are in something of a creamy quandry. This is all but idle speculation of course, so let us move on. Surfer guy, lets call him Percy, says: "Hey dudes, ('dude' because he is from the west coast of the states and that is what they say over in them there parts) d'you know where i can get me some creams? I jus' love to eat me some creams." Ozzy, being Australian and all, and unaware that Surfer guy's real name is Percy, says, once he has worked out what Percy has just said to him, replies: "Argh, sorry mate (cos that is what they say in ozland), I dunno. No idea. Looking for some ourselves actually. Do you know if there's a barbie nearby? We wanna have ourselves a barbie." Surfer Guy looks mortified, and for a heartstopping moment Ozzy and Karin wonder if they have just said something wrong, terribly wrong. Some awful misunderstanding has just taken place. Percy looks as if he has just been poleaxed; he's strggling to recover from some unknown injury just inflicted. As the miliseconds trickle by, they ponder. What has gone wrong? Has the comment about the bbq been misinterpreted as a lewd reference to the plastic dolls popular with young girls. But how? At last Surfer guy opens his quivering mouth to speak, and pushes out the words: "I'm not a Mate, I'm a Dude!!" Gods honest truth. So the quesiton is: just what exactly is a dude, and how does one recognise one?


I feel a lot better now. Bizarrely, sitting here writing this has nulliified my headache. Blurred computer screens are not known for doing this but there you are, i odnt make the rules. I am a slave to the rules.

Yesterday, my first day in lima and indeed s. america, went well. Quite a slow start i will admit, but lots of things happened. First of all i had breakfast, as is customary. I was very much ñlooking forward to breakfast as i had been unable to obain dinner the night before due to the late hour of my arrival. breakfast was included in the price of the room, ten bucks, and i was assured that it was copious. i will now quote from my diary the opinion i formulated as to the veracity of this extravagant claim: "Its ten to 12. Ive just had my all inclusive breakfast. Im pretty sure that the guy last nioght told me that desayuno was grande. if he did, he is either a bit of a joker, very stupoid, not very hungry or simply a cheeky liar. Desayuno is not grande, it is mas pequeño. that is to say. it is small, twee, miniscule. Not very big. Two buns and a little butter and jam washed down with a sketchy cup of tea. Not my cup of tea. As I missed dinner i was hoping for my customary two eggs. Those juevos are always nice to see. But no sir, not in this joint. Its now about 12 and those buns were unable to stem the growing tide of hunger. If anything i am more tired now as my estomago has been reactivated."

In due course i wandered off about my business. Got quoted an horrific 30 dollars for a trip to nazca, my next planned port of call, and found a restaurant to refuel. I stumbled across a place that looks fairly bland but is in fact a wonderful place. It sells one of the meanest club sandwiches in christendom. It is reasonably priced. The staff are very friendly. Spock works there. Thats right people, Spock, formerly of star trek, has found new employment in a restaurant cafe in Lima. He looks like spock, walks like Spock and probably talks like Spock. He doesnt have Spock ears but i guess he must have chopped them off a while back, or else is cunningly concealing them. I wonder what mission hes on?

Yesterday after seeing spock i took advice on how to get to the plaza mayor i.e. town square and was advised to take a taxi rather thatn a bus as busses are a little peligroso, dangerous. If the travel agent had told me i would have been sceptical but it was one of spocks buddies in the cafe restaurant Ricota that told me that so i took his word for it. Two dollars later i was in central lima. Took in the cathedral and the san francisco convent where 70,000 people are entombed or at least dumped in a pit. The cathedral is largley made ot of cedarwood and not stone. Th9is is because of the number of earthquakes in these here parts. Cedat wood is markedly more resistant to quakes than stone, apparently. That may also explain why that one in San Salvador was wooden too. Very clever. As i came out of the cathedral i was approached by a friendly peruvian girl who wanted to practice her english. she showed my around lima a bit and it was good to have some local company. Spoke a mixture of spanish and english, met some of her friends, went for a drink in some local bar. For the sake of argument we will call her 'Peruvian Bird'. Unfortunately there was a problem that i fear may be as prolific in this part of the world as it was in s.e. asia. It was abundantly clear that she wantded to be more than just my tour guide. Her older sister has married an englishman and it appears she ahs similar intentions. Great. So, after a couple of mostly pleasant drinks and some chats with her and her friends, i managed to extricate myself from the 9increasingly sticky situation. I agreed to meet her today at six but rang her up earlier to cancel. Like i said, might be the same problem as in s.e. asia: they all want ot marry you. Taht is to say, they all want your money and a better way of life. I am being a little cynical here, nbut i'm a bit fed up with it. Peruvian Bird 1 is quite well off. shes a student, got a mobile phone etc so perhaps i shouldnt be so assuming about her intentions. But they were pretty clear. I rang her up and told her that i was taking the hbus tonight. Its a lie, but it solves the problem.

Anyone out there been to lima? quite a nice place in my opinion. Ofcourse i'm in the nicer parts and the ghettos and slums that are the depositories for limas hopeful hopeless millions are only a stonesthrow away. I wont be visiting there. Where i am its clean and prosperous, could be any modern city. Butof course there is at least one key difference: Spock works here.

INCEST IS BEST or ITS BETTER TO KEEP THESE THINGS IN THE FAMILY or WHAT JERRY SPRINGER MISSED OUT ON

This is another stroy I've been planning to put down for some time. I heard it back in portland. As those of you who have been reguloar readers will know, i was a couple of months or so ago in portland Oregon, USA, with chums anna c. reynolds, tom Montcreiff and Mike O'Barrister. There we met and stayted with anna's best friend and for the sake of argument, confidante, Kitt Woods. shes an Oregano and used to live somewhere that is even more of a back water than where she is now. But its not all bad, because while there she knew at school a boy who was the twisted product of one of the most incredible instances of inbreeding known to man.

This is what happened. It may help you to draw a diagram of the family tree as we dgo along as it gets a little mind boggling. Here Goes: Man sleeps with sister. Sister produces daughter. Same man (father and uncle) sleeps with daughter. Daughter produces daughter. Same man (father and grandfather among other relations) sleeps with this daughter (his grandaughter). Daughter produces three boys. One of these boys, barely capable of going to school, goes to the same school as Kitt, and Kitt discovers family history. Which is for this poor inbred sod a bit messed up. He explains: (i suppose its one small mercy that the kid doesnt have very many names to remember) "Weeeeell, my dad is my granddad is my great granddad."

Thats all just for now. I'd better push off and book my bus ticket. Cant do talk backs, i regret, so hi to all those who left them and what punks you are to those who didnt.

Posted 9:25 PM by Gobbler
The Blogs of Tikal

so ive just got back from tikal today and im off to peru tomorrow. But i'm just about to get thrown out of the cafe. A short blog! Tikal was nice, all is nice. Nice nice nice, like a like a train in the distance. Damn funny. But i never forget a face.... Mr.... Blogger. Prepare to join me on the dark side of the blog, and togethrer we will rule the universe in unison. Eat it you must. Roll on the last continent. And what if the moons a balloon and we could get in it and go to a beautiful city filled with pretty people?