Middle of the road

Tuesday, 18/09/2012 - 95 A.D.

Just to reiterate why I always put an incremental number at the start of each post, followed by “A.D.” – it refers to the number of days After Departure, i.e. how long we’ve been on the road. I originally calculated the trip as being 191 days in total, but given that we lost a day crossing the international date line from the USA to Fiji, it’s more like 190. And if this is the 95th day then we are exactly halfway through our great adventure!

Here are some observations from this halfway point:

We need to stay still in more places and smell the roses (not just the sweaty areas).

We can cope with 4 person dormitories, but no more, and that’s only occasionally.

Anything electronic that I bring with me will break at some point.

White T-shirts will not stay white on the road.

Wherever you go, there will always be nice people and there will always be complete wallies.

Aeroplane food isn’t actually that bad (even if it’s got onions in it).

Long term travelling is only possible with mental toughness and an abundance of creams.

Nothing feels better than a fresh towel (at least in the better accommodation).

Eye contact, a smile, and a polite English accent can get you almost anything.

Our final day in Sydney was a slow one. We went east across the city towards the area known as Paddington, heading for the Australian Centre for Photography. Not sure what we were talking about, but we strode right past the building and kept walking for almost another kilometre. That prompted a lunch break, during which we observed some kind of small chaffinch-type bird defend its territory from two hungry pigeons twice its size. The pigeons were that persistent that I rewarded them with some crisps, making sure there was enough food for everyone, especially the angry chaffinch. This was also a useful opportunity to slap on the suncream – once burnt, twice shy!

[Is she looking at him or checking to see if the bus is coming?]

Upon doubling back and finding the Australian Centre for Photography, we saw that the featured exhibition was “Beyond the last sky” – a selection of contemporary Palenstinian photography and video. Yeah. Some of the exhibits weren’t bad, but on the whole it was a little bleak, though many would argue that so is the plight of the Palestinian people, but I don’t want to get into all that.

[In this shot of a jazzed-up refugee camp in Ramallah, James makes the dramatic gesture of turning away and focusing on other things. This simple turn of the head reflects the wider world’s ignorance at the downtrodden amongst us and, on a greater level, it demonstrates man’s incessant need to avoid the inescapable horrors that lurk over everyone’s shoulder.]

Tim was arted-out by this point and he went back to the room to chill, but I wanted more and headed for the Art Gallery of New South Wales. The various exhibitions here weren’t as bleak as the one just witnessed, but they were still pretty bleak. And I’m fast going off modern art if it looks like it’s been assembled straight out of a garbage can. Speaking of garbage, I had to throw out a pair of briefs that didn’t survive the emergency stitching I applied to the holes that had somehow developed. I won’t tell you where said holes were, nor shall I print a picture of the abandoned underwear, but it seems that in light of me having run out of electronic things to break, it’s the turn of the garments to go the way of the great Greyhound in the sky.

[An Andy Warhol.]

[A dandy ***hole.]

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to find a used book shop where I could exchange Rum Punch and purchase my next literary challenge – had no joy and rain was threatening again. Therefore I came home with some bleach and soaked White T-shirt in it (hey it worked before so it can work again!) I can imagine what you’re thinking – “Why go to all that trouble when you could simply buy another T-shirt?” It’s true, but the items in my inventory are like troops in my platoon and I don’t want to leave them, especially not those that protect me from the elements. They are my soldiers and they have families waiting for them back home in Blighty and it’s up to me to reunite them with the wardrobes they left behind when they signed up to help me on my travels. Does that sound crazy? Yes? Well I’m entitled to a bit of insanity after 95 days at sea!

["Have I broken this iPod already?"]

So, it should be a quiet last evening in the YWCA. However, every night there is a Japanese girl who sits motionless on the couch just outside of our room. She’s there from about 9 p.m. and has still been there each night when we’ve gone to bed, saying nothing, doing nothing, just sitting. I am wondering if she is really there, as she reminds me a bit of Sadako from the Ring movies. It’s been nearly seven days since I watched that rented video tape…I wonder if…hang on, the phone’s ringing…even though I don’t have one…