by OnSong » Wed Jul 07, 2010 4:40 pm
by OnSong » Wed Jul 07, 2010 4:41 pm
Quichey wrote:Boy, do I have some liquid-poo-through-the-eye-of-a-needle stories from Africa, but that is a whole other thread...
by Q. » Wed Jul 07, 2010 4:46 pm
by devilsadvocate » Wed Jul 07, 2010 4:55 pm
by Dirko » Wed Jul 07, 2010 4:56 pm
by fisho mcspaz » Wed Jul 07, 2010 7:26 pm
by Q. » Wed Jul 07, 2010 8:14 pm
by devilsadvocate » Wed Jul 07, 2010 8:53 pm
by OnSong » Thu Jul 08, 2010 10:15 am
by Zorro » Thu Jul 08, 2010 12:38 pm
by sherminator » Sat Jul 17, 2010 2:44 am
by godoubleblues » Sun Jul 25, 2010 10:26 pm
Quichey wrote:When travelling I refuse to be constantly vigilant. Constantly careful. It’s no fun. Or perhaps I’m just too nice for my own good. It’s okay, healthy even (most of the time), to drop your guard and let the surroundings in. Just be warned that you’re bound to get it wrong once and you will get an arse-kicking.
Essaouira - the bastion of hippy spirits and day-tripping baby-boomers bussing in from Marrakesh. Home to a stretching beach, a cruisy medina, fresh seafood, and more pot and opium than you can poke a hash pipe at. And a rooftop bar. A bar! Beer! Oh beer, how I’ve missed you!
That night my partner and I had arranged to meet ‘Exciting Susan’ – a piss funny Irish girl we bumped into at the bus station – at the rooftop bar. We were all crying out for alcohol in our bloodstream. Who would have thought two Aussies and an Irishwoman would be so desperate for a drink?
I would forego dinner. That night I wanted to spend my daily budget on the African staple brand of booze– Flag Beer. Luckily, the kind folk at the rooftop bar would kindly keep us supplied with fresh olives to tuck into as we drank and wove conversation that would always come back to a traveller’s tale of some sort.
Eventually the girls had enough of the petrol-like wine (N.B. Don’t drink wine that has the word Sahara on the label) and I was sufficiently light-headed and penniless to call it a night. It wasn’t a long walk back to the hotel, but it was long enough to pass by a stall selling nutella crepes to which we could not say no.
While watching the creamy batter get spread thinly across the pan I felt a bump on the back of my heel. I turned to see that a Moroccan fella in a wheelchair had bumped into me. He gave a toothless grin and stuck out a hand for me to shake. In return I gave a toothy smile and shook his hand. He wheeled off down the medina. Our crepes were ready and we tucked into them as though they were a late-night yiros.
I had only been in bed an hour when I suddenly heard my stomach groan like a harpooned whale. My eyes widened. Then, as though it had been a rubik’s cube world champion in a past life, my stomach quickly bundled up it’s solid contents into a neat ball and shot it into my intestines. I had never felt such a visceral explosion before.
My helpless curl into the foetal position did not last long as I leapt from the bed, ripped my jocks from my buttocks while mid-air and bounded for the toilet. Do you remember those cartoons where a car runs into a fire hydrant and water shoots into the sky? Well, imagine it upside-down.
There was a single point of convenience during that predicament. The wash basin was handily located directly in front of the toilet and so I did not have to move far to expel the olive-laced liquid from the other end. I popped so many anti-biotics that night that I had a metallic taste in my mouth for days thereafter.
Yep, I let my guard down and copped an arse-kicking for it. I should have just been a cold bastard and ignored the bloke in the wheelchair whose hands would pick up every nasty parasite that his wheels would trek through. Too nice for my own good.
by Q. » Thu Jul 29, 2010 6:20 pm
godoubleblues wrote:hmmm, are you sure it wasnt the Flag Special beer, I drank plenty of that while I was over there and had plenty of mornings on the throne crapping through the eye of a needle
by mrjbeam1981 » Thu Aug 26, 2010 6:21 pm
by Q. » Thu Aug 26, 2010 6:26 pm
by mrjbeam1981 » Thu Aug 26, 2010 6:29 pm
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