Woke up from last night’s ‘nap’ at 8am. Had horny dreams and woke up humping the mattress, on the top bunk in a dorm full of strangers. Ugh.
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Europe
Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 4, Barce-Loner
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Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 3.5, Paris
Yeah, I know I’m a few days later than I said I’d be in posting this. Shut yer cake hole and play this:
Right-o. Continue reading
On Jeremy Corbyn and Leadership
This post is not travelling related, but listen: shut up. This post is about politics, it is about ideologies, and it is about bravery.
The UK will have a general election on the 8th of June. Current polls have Labour some 20 points behind the Tories. If nothing changes in the next six weeks, Labour are set to take a pasting, Corbyn will be savaged, and a triumphant Right will cheer the fall of left wing politics across the Western world. Because, you know, the idea of affordable housing and fair pay for nurses is fucking nightmarish. Continue reading
Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 3.5, Last Night in Paris
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Drink, Play, Loathe – Day 3, Paris
Note from present Dan: The following happened on the same evening as the previous article. However, I felt it best to split the day into two sections, as my life/death contemplations earlier in the afternoon didn’t seem to mesh very well with the vomiting and aggressive dry humping that occurred later that evening. Continue reading
Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 3, Paris
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Drink, Play, Loathe – Day 2, Paris
Woke up at 3am because Aish, one of the Canadian girls, was talking in her sleep. Her mumbles continued for some time, then grew into tossing and turning, then thrashing, until at 4am she swung her legs over the bunk, dropped onto the floor, and sleep-sprinted out of the room in her knickers. Her friend Sarah jumped up and grabbed her, then must have remembered not to wake a sleepwalker, and simply followed her out of the dorm. I shrugged and fell back asleep. Continue reading
Drink, Play, Loathe: Suck It And See
Just a quick post today while I’m in the epicentre of an inspiration earthquake; all shook up. I’m tidying the flat and playing music and drinking wine, and it’s not quite sunny outside but it’s not so far off, and it’s always sunny above the clouds, anyway. Continue reading
Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 2, Paris
Previously: Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 1, Paris
Well, I woke up this morning ugly and dishevelled and so hot I actually panicked and thought something had gone gravely wrong internally. Ran into the bathroom for an emergency guzzle of tap water and dry heaved at the sight of my wild haired, eye bagged, bloodshot reflection. I’ve got to learn to take better care of my body. Christ. Continue reading
Drink, Play, Loathe: Day 1, Paris
It’s just after 7pm, and it’s been a strange sort of day. I feel like I’ve done a huge amount, and yet due to my exhaustion none of it feels real. I’ve been dreaming.
After waking in Berlin at 4am, I landed in France at 8.30 this morning and got the train into Paris. I got very confused and lost in the station, and finally arrived at my hostel around 10.45, and tried to check in. The girl looked at me like I was a half wit. Check in isn’t until 2, of course. I took my backpack and slunk off into the city. I decided the Louvre would be first. Continue reading
Drink, Play, Loathe: The Trip
“Never go on trips with anyone you do not love.” ― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
So, I’ve been on a trip of Europe, and kept a diary all the while. If travelling is anything at all, it is unpredictable, and the trip I expected to have was, as is usually the case, radically different to the reality. Modern life is a series of spinning plates, and the more you age, the better you become at keeping them spinning. I am young, and youth is wonderful, but the trade off of so much freedom is that fairly regularly, largely due to my own gross incompetence at being alive, my plates come crashing down around me all at once, and I am left lying bruised and stupid beneath a heap of porcelain. Continue reading
The Berlin Diaries – Disenchantment at the Brandenburg Gate
(From the 6th of Feb. My opinions have changed somewhat since writing this; the city and I have made friends again, but what I’ve written here was true once, and so it stays.)
It’s Monday morning and I’m feeling wretched, and so the only time I can write this is right now, as my wretchedness may well be due to chemical deficiencies that will have righted themselves tomorrow. But perhaps not. Continue reading