Inside the mind of a fruit cake....

I only spent one night in Porto. Had a walk around and liked it in as much as you can in a day. Met a Slovenian guy who I will call Marudo as I cant remember his name. He was a funny hippy of the earth type of guy and I indulged his aura talk and buzzed off him a fair bit. Anyway in the middle of the night the guy in the bunk across from ours was snoring his fat head off, deep throaty snores. As its a hostel ye cant overly complain about noise from other room mates but I dont tollerate snoring to any degree, never have, never will haa. Marudo was awake and telling the guy to stop snoring???

I think she is on the ball with rain gear

Cutest trams ever, the drivers have to madly shake
their left hand to control the speed

So I did what I have been doing for a long time, I got my pillow and stretched across the floor trying to keep my naked (highly toned) ass under the sheet, I walloped him right in the face with the pillow. Haaa I love it, it always works and they never remember what happened, they just roll over and fall into a snoreless sleep. Marudo seen what I did and I have honestly never heard someone laugh for so long I thought I was gonna have to wallop him too. I recon one day hitting strangers with a pillow might get me in trouble but till then I take my chances and I will enjoy my sleep!

I met a guy on a mountain bike and he asked was I lost,
I said I wasnt sure

I was going so fast I set the tarmac on fire

New Years Eve was a tame affair compared to last year which I spent counting down to midnight scuba diving upsidedown, inside a little shipwreck with Mike, plus we had some champers! My first glimpse of the Atlantic was just about perfect. It was just dark and I cycled along a narrow wooden boardwalk singing "on the board walk dum dum dum dum on the boardwalk". As soon as I got on on it I was like "ye I wanna cycle this all the way to Moroc", two mins later I had enough of the shaking as the sleepers got further apart. The path was lit by some amber lights and was as Holywood as it gets in terms of a grand occasion arriving to the sea once again. So this new years was spent finishing a book camped out on the beach. To Kill a Mocking Bird, pretty good, very articulate kid eh.

The Atlantic, another milestone reached

Sing it with me, "on the boardwalk"

Was asleep well before midnight after spending a fair chunk of time watching a beautiful crescent shaped moon, which turned into cats eyes when a thin strip of cloud cut it in two, pretty cool stuff. God I am sooo old, New Years Eve is supposed to be party time, its happened hasnt it, I am now old ha! As if more proof is needed I also wear socks with my sandles when its cold. The first person I met in the morning was an old Indian jogger that at first thought I was cleaning the beach haa, I cleared matters up and informed him that I am the guy that will make Lance Armstrong go back into retirement should I take up cycling competitively when I get home. Anyway the Indian said "may you meet only honorable men on your journey", what a nice way to start another year.

There was more sea water in the air than in the sea

Dont ye just love when ye have sand in every crack of your body, it can mean only one thing. Yes folks its been a beach bums life for me over the last week down the coast of Portugal. Miles and Miles or should I said kilometers and kilometers of golden sandy beaches. One night I camped at the edge of a cliff with a smashing sea view. Its exactly what the waves did all night, just smash loudly into the cliff and kept me awake. My energy levels are better than I ever would of imagined so to miss a nights sleep does nothing so I gave up trying to ignore the thunderous waves and just sat watching them. Wave after wave rolling in from the west, no wind, just hammering waves.

When I grow up and stop using a camping stove to make my coffee,
I will hopefully get a present of one of these

My daily empties

My head is pretty clear these days, stress free that is. Thoughts jump around alot but to be honest I have hardly had a negative thought since I left. Its one of the things I wanted to do while away, bring a real peace to my mind, slowly I am getting there. So what happened the other night has me puzzled and I am also still laughing about it. I camped out down by the beach on a patch of grass behind some sand dunes. A nice flat quiet spot, just how I like it. Finished off a crappy fantasy book, King of Kings or some rubbish like that, book two of three. I had not read book one and I dont intend on reading book three. I finished my popcorn, yes popcorn, this touring lark is hard eh. Had a good old sleep and the next morning I woke up had some brekie and started to dismantle the tent. It looked odd, the tent pegs I had firmly fixed into the ground were all pulled out but yet there was no hurricane overnight. When I took apart the tent poles I noticed the one that connects to a joint was split. Easily replaced with a spare I got off Dinier in France, but as it is one that joins the joint it should be reinforced on the inside so I have no doubt it will split at the worst time in the near future. Anyway enough boring talk of bloody tent poles, what is strange is how did it break. It had me thinking about it all day and finally I remembered haaa. I had a nightmare that my tent was being blown off a cliff! I remember freaking out and jumping from side to side trying to stop the tent falling off an imaginary cliff and kinda waking up and realising I was only dreaming. Haaa I jumped so hard trying to keep the tent from falling down the side of the "mountain" that I snapped a feckin pole. It would be even funnier if someone was walking by during my fit.

My Wallet is the one that says Bad Ass Motherfucker

Seriously, whats the markup on antique tools

I am in Lisboa for a couple of days. Turns out I picked the number one hostel in Europe, it is seriously slick, friendly, cheap and clean until I arrived with all my nature smells. There is a real backpacker vibe to it, not just holiday makers but chatty backpackers. I was catching up on Jacks adventures in Oz on his blog and it had me yearning for the backpacker feeling again. So its been perfect timing to get into a real hostel full of excited travellers. I got chatting with a Brisbane guy and man it brought back the good times of working in the Empire Bar in the valley, assembling furniture and drinking like a lunatic all hours of the day. Went on the free tour of the city that the hostel offers. Ye cant expect too much when its for free but where it lacked in the usual over the top dates and names of every single person and place of note it made up for it in banter. Spent a chunk of time wandering around the flea market with an American Victoria, how the people make money selling broken useless shit is a small wonder, well its a big wonder because I seen hardly anyone buy anything, just one big collection of crap ha.

I have been having some interesting guests lately

The first, second and third person I met in the city while walking around offered to sell me hash or coke, same sort of scene as Barcelona. Later on I went out for coffee and one of the guys from earlier on approached me again and would not stop trying to sell me some hash as I said "no", "no thank you", "cheers no I am good as it is", "fuck off you shit head" eventually made him realise I was not a stoner. It kinda of annoyed me that I snapped but he was really pushy and in my personal space.

Me fondling Victoria

Life a beach, a loud beach

Met a surfer, Lauri, from Aus and got chattin about travel and he is just back from Morocco so he gave me some advice on where to go. He runs a yoga/surf retreat down the Algarve coast a bit and invited me to visit him. So I checked out his website surfshanti.com and it looks like a pretty cool spot so I am heading that way once I leave Lisboa. I am getting majorly pumped up for the next leg in Africa but I still have a bit to go so I need to focus on the last itsy bit of Europe. The hostel has a huge pile of old Nat Geo mags so I have been fleecing the articles mainly on Africa and one cool one about Borge Ouslands trek to the north pole nearly twenty years ago, he was the dude I went to see talk before I left.

Its 2.80 euro to get the lift to the lookout of Lisboa,
our free tour guide took us the long way for free

Slumming it in Lisboa

Excitement to leave the hostel tomorrow after the free breakfast, of which I will overly gorge out on, is almost at a stage where I am twitching. I will sleep feck all tonight thinking about what awaits ahead in the next couple of weeks. I am on the verge of getting my ass onto Africa, FRICKEN AFRICA, possibly the most wonderous place I can think of travelling. To go to where it all began, I mean can you imagine the moment I see my first camel. No, its too much to think about right now, Algarve here I come!

A wise man once wrote and sang:

The more I see the less I know
The more I like to let it go