

### A Lonely Man

By

Terry Minett

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Published by Terry Minett at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Terry Minett

Cover design by

Obusa

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### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This ebook must not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded without the written permission of the Author

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All characters in this book are fictitious, any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Parts of this book contain adult content.

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### Index

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

Chapter 2 - House Hunting in France

Chapter 3 - Living in France

Chapter 4 - Amelie

Chapter 5 - The Plan

Chapter 6 - East Coast to West Coast Part I

Chapter 7 - East Coast to West Coast Part II

Chapter 8 - The Pacific

Chapter 9 - "Bula" Welcome to Fiji

Chapter 10 \- Just Another Pacific Island

Chapter 11 \- Christmas in Fiji

Chapter 12 - The Land of the Kiwi

Chapter 13 - Sheep Farming to Bungy Jumping

Chapter 14 \- United States of Australia

Chapter 15 - Go Forth and Multiply

Chapter 16 - Beautiful Bali

Chapter 17 - Rendezvous in Singapore

Chapter 18 - Nepal

Chapter 19 - Mad Mad India

Chapter 20 - Dead Bodies Everywhere

Chapter 21 - Home of the Taj

Chapter 22 - I Need Money

Chapter 23 - Return to France

Chapter 24 - Maria

Chapter 25 - My Appointment with Doctor Wong

Chapter 26 - Boredom is a Curse

About the Author

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Chapter 1

_The Beginning_

Life can be good, life can be bad. I always remember the bad as well as the good; otherwise I do not learn from my mistakes.

I was married at a very young age, twenty to be exact, was it a mistake? Yes probably it was for both of us, but the marriage lasted eighteen years.

When divorce came I was thirty eight years of age. I had never been alone, what could I do? My life revolved around working, and bringing up my family. This was about to change dramatically. Over the next twenty years I did things that I would never have thought possible in my lifetime.

"So let me tell you more".

After living on the floors and in the beds of various friends and relatives, a good friend of mine was leaving his apartment. It was in a good area of the town, with parking, a good rental price, also part furnish.

"I had left my ex wife with everything, another mistake I made".

So I now have my little domain. The last time I was in this position was when I was seventeen. I left my parents home to live in a dirty little bedsit, trying to find my freedom.

Things were good, work was going well. There were lots of girlfriends visiting my little apartment, life seemed wonderful. The freedom was just fantastic. Girls I had known for a long time as friends were eager to get between the sheets with me.

One very close friend of mine was Stella; she was a regular visitor to my home. She was four years older than me, and had helped me through my divorce period, during which time we became intimate.

On several occasions I would spend the weekend with her and her husband at their house, a beautiful place, very luxurious.

Her husband and I would drink good mature whiskey; Stella would prepare dinner, which was accompanied by a good red wine. Several bottles would be consumed by us, but the evening did not end there.

Her husband would go off to bed, we would make love in the lounge, the kitchen, and sometimes she would join me later in my bed.

There was an occasion when Stella had gone away for a few days so I went to visit her husband. We were talking in the garage when a stunning beautiful woman walked in.

Who was she?

I was quickly introduced to her by her father. Her name was Charlotte.

"Stella and her husband had both been married before, this was Stella's step daughter".

She was a very beautiful woman, about twenty four years of age. Her father was quickly matchmaking us, telling her to go and have a drink with me.

Did he now about his wife and me?

Charlotte was coming to my place this evening. This I was looking forward to very much.

The evening came, the door bell rang. It was Charlotte, her Ford Escort parked in the road. I went down to meet her, when I opened the door I was totally taken by her beauty, she looked fantastic.

We did go out for the drink but I do not remember much, I was too busy admiring this woman.

Finally we returned to my apartment, I invited her in for coffee which she accepted. Much to my surprise she declined coffee and had a small shot of whiskey, then another, then another.

Her father's house was out in the countryside, about thirty minutes drive. The road could be dangerous; I was getting a little concerned for her safety. I told her she would have to be careful driving back; in quick response she asked if she could stay the night. I told her it would be fine. I would sleep on the couch and she could have the bed. That never happened, we made love most of the night, it was incredible.

During this time in my life I had my own business; one of my clients was a nursing home. The girl's working there became good friends and it was a crazy place at times.

On one visit I found a new face, her name was Suzie. We quickly got acquainted and with in no time we were going out for our first drink.

Suzie told me she was divorced, she had been married to a soldier. She was still living on the army base, her ex-husband had moved into the single men's quarters.

Suzie came to my apartment lots of times. She was a pretty wild lady in bed. We even made love at Stella's house. I was looking after it for them, they were on holiday

One winter evening I'm on my bed alone when the phone rings. It was Suzie speaking from a call box. We had hardly said a word to each other when I heard her make a sound, like she was being choked. The phone dropped hitting something, and then a voice with a Scottish accent said,

"Hey you, leave my fucking wife alone".

I quickly put down the receiver; I thought this relationship is over.

The next time I saw Suzie, she denied that it was her husband and everything was fine for us. I didn't believe this lady; I never went with her again.

Now let me tell you about Christine. She lived with her family next door to a friend of mine. I had seen her grow from a child to a woman. She was twelve years younger than me.

Whenever I visited my friend, Christine and I would chat, I finally asked her out for a drink which she accepted.

We would go to different places having a great time. We were always joking and playing pranks; she was great fun to be with.

One night the inevitable happened. We are on my bed and we both go past the point of no return. We make love and to my surprise she's a virgin.

At twenty six, that's almost unknown.

Our relationship was never boyfriend, girlfriend. We were just great buddies together in the bar and in the bed. Making love to Christine just got better every time. She was a quick learner, or maybe I was a good teacher? I'm not sure which, but we both had a lot of respect for each other and enjoyed each others company.

Every morning driving to work, I would see my friend's sister. I remember her when she was seventeen. She had blonde hair, big breasts and a slim body. Someone you would dream about taking to bed. Now she's thirty but still looking good.

We would exchange a wave every time we saw each other, until one day I stopped to say hello. I asked her if she would like a coffee, we were soon drinking black coffee in my lounge.

She told me she had separated from her husband; this seemed to be a green light. We were in between the sheets in no time. OK, she was no longer that seventeen year old but she could have been. The body was still the same and she new how to use it.

Our relationship lasted for a few months; she was a little too crazy for me. On one occasion we went to the bars, she was wearing a string vest with no bra. Her nipples poked through the holes for everyone to see.

We made some good love which I will always remember.

My life was getting a little monotonous, work, women, booze, not always in that order. I was in need of something new, but what?

I had been reading about the mass exodus of Brits to France. The more I researched the more interested I became.

I had money in the bank doing little, why not buy a house there, after all prices seemed so low compared to what I would get in the UK.

I contacted an agent who dealt in French property, my contact was a French lady called Chantel.

Together we sat down and made a plan of the areas that I would be interested in. These were the departments of Charente, the Dordogne and the Lot et Garonne.

Next she showed me properties in these areas. They ranged from complete farms to town houses, cottages, even a small château, all of which I could afford.

With the capital I had in the bank, I could have bought a large farm with acres of land, but with the cost of renovation and the upkeep, you had to keep your mind focused.

So now I had a plan. I had chosen fifteen properties to view so it was time for more research. I needed to research the departments, but most important driving.

I had never driven there before. Yes I had driven in Spain and Canaries in hire cars but this was going to be very different. Long distances, right hand drive car, on the right hand side of the road and a boat crossing.

My partner for this trip, which was going to be about two weeks, was an old girlfriend of mine called Julie. I'm not sure she was the best choice for this trip, due to a thing called,

"revenge".

I took Julie on holiday to Tenerife once. We stayed in a private apartment belonging to her friend; it was on the edge of the ocean with beautiful views.

The holiday had been great, we both had a good time together but it had come to the end.

It was our last night, we decided to dress and go for a good meal. We would finish the evening on top of the apartment block looking at the stars and the ocean, or the sound, because it was too dark to see anything.

I had this crazy idea. When we get onto the roof, there is a swimming pool. I'm going to grab Julie and plunge us both into the water, in our clothes. Just a way of remembering the holiday, this she was not aware of.

We had good meal, nice wine everything was good. We made our way to the top of the building in the lift.

"This lift I got us both stuck in a few days earlier, we had to be rescued by the maintenance men".

Julie was looking very glamorous; I was looking pretty smart in my suit.

We arrived at the top of the building, to my surprise the wind was like a small gale blowing.

Surely it's too cold to jump in the pool?

The time had come. We had looked at the stars; we were both standing on the edge of the pool.

With one shove Julie was in, she was completely submerged. I decided not to go, it was too cold.

She climbed the steps out of the pool; make up running, every bit of her looking dishevelled.

She was one very angry woman but after a while she calmed down.

I think she will always remember the holiday for that reason, I definitely will.

Well this is why I say,

"revenge".

We will see.

~~~~~

Chapter 2

_House Hunting in France_

It's a nice summer evening; I'm driving through Newbury on route to Portsmouth.

The ferry will set sail at eleven o'clock this evening. I decided on the night crossing because it arrives at around seven in the morning. Traffic should be light then, making it easier to get out of Caen.

I have my co-pilot with me. I have told Julie after we have looked at the properties we would tour the South of France. It's to thank her for helping me, also to stop any revenge attacks.

My estimate was about three to four days looking at the fifteen properties I had picked out with Chantel.

Arriving at the ferry terminal, we join a well organised queue. It's not long before they start boarding everyone. Soon we are parked in the bottom deck like sardines. We climb a few stairs, coming out into the main hall.

My first thought is how big these ferries are, there are shops, bar, restaurant, even a disco dance floor. By midnight we are sailing out into the ocean.

I had done my exploration of the boat, I sat myself in the bar drinking beer until early morning, Julie had already gone to bed.

I managed to get a few hours sleep. I then went upon deck to find a beautiful blue sky, the ferry making its way into Caen harbour.

We are soon docked, with great precision we are quickly dispatched onto the streets of Caen. As I had predicted, traffic is very light. With good road signs I'm soon on route national N158. This will take us out of Caen to the department of Charente.

Driving here is so relaxing; I see very little traffic. I think France is three times the size of Britain with the same population, so there is a lot more room. Our little island is so busy, maybe it's sinking.

I reach Le Mans. I've heard of this place, they do an endurance race here; it's for twenty four hours in cars.

I follow the signs. I need to get to Tours, this should be the A28. I start to notice barriers and markings; I'm on the race track. Looking around I see residential houses, they can't get much sleep when the racing is on.

Soon I'm driving away from the city on these fantastic roads.

The roads in England are shit compared to these.

I've noticed that the Frenchmen stop on the side of the road to piss. In England we would not be allowed to do this unless we hide.

I ask Julie,

"what's the time?"

"it's only ten o'clock",

she replies.

Fuck, I thought it was later than that.

We arrive in Tours, next I look for the A10, which will take us to Poitiers. The road signs are easy to follow; soon I'm heading away from Tours in the direction of Poitiers.

I notice how quite Julie is. I look towards her, fucking hell she's sleeping. Good co-pilot she's turning out to be.

I see lots of places to take a rest, you can even have a picnic with seats and tables, so well organised. In England we're lucky to find a lay-by.

Everything is going well, we have reached Poitiers. This will be the final leg of the journey. The next destination is a place called Angoulême; this is where I will make contact with my first agent.

I exit the A10; I find that I'm driving through the town. This is a mistake; I should have got off later. My co-pilot is still sleeping, reading a map and driving is not easy. This place looks very beautiful, but I need to concentrate. I need to find my way to the N10; this should take me to Angoulême.

Finally I'm on route to Angoulême; I think it's going to take me one and a half hours.

We have arrived on the outskirts of the city at a small guest house. Booked in, baggage dropped off, we drive into the centre.

I find the agents office and enter. I'm greeted by Andre. We spend one hour with him. I check to see if there are any other properties I might be interested in. I already have four to view with him.

I didn't see anything else that I liked. Tomorrow he will pick us up at nine in the morning.

The night at the guest house is very relaxing, we are both very tired so sleep will come easy tonight.

Morning arrives, so does Andre. He drives us to the first of the four properties. The property is a farm with fields, stables, and a large stone farmhouse. There is a lot of renovation work to do, but the price is cheap for what you are getting.

The other three properties are viewed; they do very little for me. Andre drops us back at the guest house where we have left the car. Its two o'clock, we need to get on our way to the next destination.

Our next stop is Perigueux in the Dordogne.

The drive takes us one and a half hours; we are soon in the city. The hotel we are staying at is very central; it's only a ten minute walk to the agent.

After checking in, we walk to the agent's office. Once there we get a warm greeting from Nadia.

She's got five properties for me to look at. I check to see if there's anything else that catches my eye. There is, but the price is too much.

The Dordogne is full of English people; this is reflected in the price of property in this area.

We arrange to meet her at the office tomorrow morning, at nine. We say goodbye, and make our way back to the hotel.

Tonight we go out for a meal, and look around the town or city. I'm not sure which it is.

The evening was good, the restaurant had good food, and the old town is beautiful. The night carried on being good in the bedroom, Julie wanted to make love.

We walk to the office to meet Nadia. I'm feeling a little tired, Julie wanted sex all night.

We go off in Nadia's car, to look at the five properties. The countryside around here is spectacular. I understand why people want to buy property in the Dordogne.

Well that's another viewing finished, there are two properties I like. Our final stop will be a place called Villeréal, in the Lot et Garonne.

After a one hour drive, we are in a town called Bergerac. Another thirty minutes, we are entering the square in Villeréal.

There's a hotel just off the main square; this will be our bed for a few nights.

After checking in, we walk back out into the main square. The town is very picturesque.

It doesn't take long to find the agents office; we are soon talking to Pierre.

We have six properties to view with him. After scanning the other properties on his lists, I find no more. We arrange to meet at the office tomorrow morning, at nine.

The evening is spent wandering around this small town. The layout is interesting.

The square seems to have a building in the centre, which is obviously very old. It's elevated on large wooden supports, oak I suppose. This means that you can walk underneath and sit. I'm not sure what it's used for.

The square is made up of various shops, restaurants, cafés and hairdressers.

At each corner there is one or two roads leading off, these are mostly residential. One corner leads to an open area in front of a very impressive church.

We spend the rest of the evening sat eating and drinking in a few different bars.

Breakfast finished, we walk to Pierre's office. When we arrive he's there waiting for us. We get into his car, and we leave the town to look at the first property.

Pierre tells us that Villeréal is a bastide, that's a fortified town, but the wall is pretty much gone. Good examples are Monpazier and Monflanquin he tells us, but there are many others.

The morning goes by quickly, we've looked at five properties so far, and we have one more left.

This one is on the way back to the town. We turn down a narrow lane, after three hundred metres we turn into the drive of the final property.

The house is of a wood beam construction, with a very high roof. Pierre tells me this is typical Périgord design.

The grounds are terrific; there is a lot of privacy. To the front is a stone building, this would be very good storage, and along one side is a small wood. The back is grass, there's also a small orchard.

Pierre opens the door, we walk into a kitchen and off the kitchen is a bedroom. We climb a few stairs into the lounge; in the corner is a shower cubicle. Next we climb a set of stairs, we are in the loft. Up here there's a toilet and another bedroom.

Our tour is finished; Pierre drives us back to his office. I tell him I'm very interested in the house we have just looked at, but I can't make a decision yet.

I've taken photographs of several of the properties. When I get back to England I can study them.

I thank Pierre for showing us the properties, and we take our leave.

First stop is the bar for a drink and some food. Sat in the bar I confide in Julie. I ask her for her input into the houses we have looked at. She tells me that the last one was her preference.

We go to the hotel and collect the car. I want to go and have another look at the house.

We pull into the drive, and walk around the grounds.

This place is growing on me.

At the back I count over one hundred rose bushes. There's apple, pear, cherry and other trees that I do not recognise. The wood is larger than I first thought.

There's a lot of land to keep under control, with the renovating required inside it will be a full time job.

We drive back to the hotel, tonight we will sleep here in Villeréal. Tomorrow we start our journey to the south.

It's a beautiful morning, we say goodbye to Villeréal, not for the last time I'm sure.

We're driving to Toulouse; this should take about two to three hours.

Driving along the scenery is stunning. We pass fields of sunflowers and grapevines. The villages are picturesque with their yellow stone houses.

Finally we reach Toulouse; we intend to spend one night here. Hotel found we explore the centre of the city. There is a big main square which is full of cafés. It's a definite place to hang out and watch the world go by.

The day and night spent in Toulouse was good, but today we have a longer drive of three or more hours. I want to get to Montpellier, this will be via Carcassonne. I've read that Carcassonne is a fortified town and very special. If we have time we want to spend a few hours there.

Just over one hour of driving, and we're parked at the bottom of the old town. Looking up at the walls and turrets, it looks like a set from a Disney movie

We walk up the slope and enter the town, it's very busy. There's the usual obligatory cafés with people sat reading their newspapers and drinking coffee.

The town is actually a working town, with shops and residential houses.

We spend a good few hours wandering around the streets, but time catches up with us, we have to leave.

It's four in the afternoon, we should be in Montpellier by six tonight. We drive away leaving this pretty town behind us, next stop Montpellier.

Well timing is good, it's seven o'clock and we are in the hotel room just off the main square in Montpellier. We are both tired so we will go to bed early tonight.

We start the day in typical French fashion, sat outside one of the many cafés in the main square drinking our coffee.

Montpellier contains a wealth of beautiful buildings; there should be a few good photo opportunities.

We've walked around the streets of this lovely city for two hours, now I want to find another bit of architecture. There's an aqueduct which I want to see and the best place to view it is a little too far to walk.

We drive the car to a square or park, I'm not sure what it is but it certainly gives me the view I was looking for. Photographs taken, we walk back to the car.

Crossing the square I notice the car door is open, I ask Julie, she agrees.

As we get closer, I can see the back door is slightly ajar. When we reach the car I see glass on the floor. I look up to see the small window in the back is broken.

Fuck we've been robbed.

Julie tells me she left a bag on the front seat.

Stupid fucking woman.

There was nothing of value in the bag, but the thief doesn't know that.

We get some directions to the police station, within ten minutes I'm parking in the area reserved for visitors.

Inside at the desk I'm asked a few questions, then told to wait. Ten minutes pass, we're shown to an office.

The policeman in the office is a detective I suppose; he's not wearing a uniform. He takes all of the particulars; in return I get a letter of conformation for the insurance company.

I'm pissed off with Julie. We will not be able to leave tomorrow; instead I will have to get the window repaired.

Last night wasn't good. Julie was very quite all evening, but today she's talking again. After getting assistance from the hotel staff, I find a dealer who can replace the window.

The window is replaced, everything is finished, tomorrow we can hit the road. The rest of the day we will just relax.

It's a new day. The sun is shining and the sky is blue, we start our journey to Orange. This should take us one hour.

Originally we were going to stop in Nimes, but losing the day in Montpellier we will forgo that.

We arrive in Orange early enough to have a day of sightseeing. We will be able to leave tomorrow.

Unless some thieving bastard puts the window in again.

Orange was a nice city. The Roman architecture was fascinating to see, especially the Théâtre antique d'Orange. It's a theatre that is still used for open air productions.

Over the next four days we travelled to Nice and Cannes. I found it a little over indulgent looking at the size of the yachts moored in the harbour, and the wealth of the people.

Time was also spent in Monaco. Like the other two cities it's very rich, but I suppose it is the French Riviera. I did like driving around Monaco; at times I was on the Formula One circuit.

Well the journey is finished; we have two days to get to Caen. Will that be enough? I hope so, the tickets are already booked.

I've been studying the photos during the evenings; I've made up my mind. When I get back I will see Chantel. I'm going to buy the last house we looked at in Villeréal.

~~~~~

Chapter 3

Living in France

My few personal belongings were put into a removal van; an itinerary had to be made in English and French so that I would not be charged import duty.

I said, goodbye to my little apartment where I had such good times.

The removal company had gone ahead by a few days; the keys were with Pierre the agent, so everything should be there when I arrive.

After an overnight crossing to Caen, a nine hour car journey with a few pee stops, I enter the lane to my cottage. It's four o'clock in the afternoon on a beautiful day.

As I turn into my drive I'm stunned. The tidy garden I had left was a jungle in the matter of five weeks since I had been there.

"I soon learn that the climate here is sun and rain, things grow very fast. Immediate action was needed, well not quite immediate, tomorrow will do".

A car arrives; it's Pierre with my keys. How did he know I was here?

"Another thing I learn is people know everything here and everybody".

I thank Pierre for his help.

I'm soon opening the door to my home, everything is inside. Within one hour I have a bed to sleep on; the rest can wait until tomorrow.

I wake to a wonderful sunrise glistening through the trees. After a little breakfast of bread and whiskey, which I'd brought with me from duty free, I set about making my little home. By noon everything is in place and boxes unpacked.

I wander out into my jungle to be greeted by a fellow Englishman.

"Hi my name is David, anything you need?"

David invited me to his house for coffee which turned out to be quite productive. He tells me where to get my bread from, where the local supermarche is, and to visit the old lady at the farmhouse for eggs.

I started to explore my domain. The front is a grassed area, now three feet tall. You then walk over a small bridge into the area I remember with hazel and almond nut trees; again here the grass is three feet tall.

I then walk through the small wood I have. One tree I didn't notice on my first visit was a mighty oak, a very big tree.

"It was later blown down in some gales, it was blocking the lane so the farmer removed it for free, what a good fellow. No he made a lot of money selling it".

"Bastard."

I proceed to the back of the cottage, where I remember the orchard was. The trees have fruit on them, pear, apple, cherry, walnut, plum, and a very strange looking fruit which I've never seen before.

"I later learned that it was called Quince and it made a good conserve".

I walk into the large area at the back. When I first came here it was lawn with many rosebushes and other plants. Now it's just tall grass, not one rosebush to be seen.

Next I make my way to the back patio, then to the side of the house. Here I find the trellis that was supporting vines when I first viewed the cottage. Now there's a mass of green leaves with bunches of young grapes hanging.

"This became one of my favourite places to sit during the daytime".

After a quick trip to the supermarche, the fridge is stock with cold meats, salad and most important Rosé.

I decided to go and introduce myself to the old lady at the farm, and pick up some eggs.

When I get there hospitality is warm, out comes the red wine, her own produce, and au de vie, a spirit distilled from plums.

I had been sat thirty minutes trying to talk with her,

"my French is so bad",

when in walked a little short old man, it was her husband.

"Unfortunately some two years on he died at the kitchen table, which was a blow for everyone around there".

He managed to understand some of my French and me some of his. He was going to organise a person to come and sort out my garden. I'm more than happy about that.

Tonight was more organised, bread, cheese, ham, salad, accompanied by wine. Then with the music playing, I sat on my porch drinking whiskey until midnight.

"These nights would be a regular occurrence for me".

Morning arrives, another beautiful one. After a quick shower, I'm in my car taking the main road to the town. Taking a left into a small lane, I soon come to the old watermill.

"Just like David had directed me".

I had arrived at the bakery; it was run by a husband and wife with the help of their son, who seemed to be a little impaired.

They make their own flour, the bread is so fresh I carry it out on a wooden board because it's just out of the oven and too hot to handle. I throw it onto the back seat and drive back to my cottage.

"I have an appointment with the gardener".

A very old pick up truck pulls into my drive, after introductions I find I'm speaking to Michel.

"Over the years he became a very good asset".

After walking around surveying the grounds, we struck a deal. He would start tomorrow, keeping everything shipshape for the princely sum of £60 per year, what a bargain.

My only other project for today was to buy a gas cooker. I can't keep eating cold meat and salad.

With the cooker installed another day is over, let's see what tomorrow brings.

What the fuck.

I'm woken by a loud noise just outside. Still in a state of coma I find the clock, it's only six thirty in the morning.

What's going on?

I dress and go outside to find Michel beavering away in the garden. Stood with his industrial strimmer, mesh face guard, Wellington boots and a hat that a Hollywood detective would wear, he turns, looks at me and winks. I acknowledge, and try to go back to bed.

On the second day at noon, all is down and burnt, it looks fantastic. Michel jumps into his truck, he's gone, nothing said, no payment.

After thirty minutes I hear the sound of a small engine like a mowing machine. I go to the end of the drive to see Michel returning with a sit on tractor mower.

"He only lives one lane across, but he would need to use the main road for five hundred metres".

When Michel is finished, it looks like the first day I saw it, rosebushes and all.

Eight months had gone by; the life style was very good. I would wake, have breakfast and start work on the renovations.

I would take the typical French lunch, twelve till three. I would finish working at seven thirty in the evening, cook and eat.

The rest of the evening was spent drinking whiskey on the veranda.

The renovations were going well. I had built a bathroom and wardrobe in the main bedroom. I also exposed stone walls, re-boarded between the beams, plastered and decorated, so that was looking good.

The kitchen was ripped out and a new one built. I installed a wood burner with new fire place and log store. With the addition of a beautiful antique dresser and table purchased from a local dealer, things were becoming very comfortable.

The cottage was of the Périgord type, which has a very high steep roof. The loft was a second bedroom and a shower toilet. After re-boarding and changing the position of the original stud partitions, this area was also complete.

With the cottage re-plumbed and rewired, pipes and lofts lagged, things were moving well.

The lounge had a cubicle shower when I first saw it, that was now gone. The walls were stripped back to original yellow stone. I had built a small wall to part divide the room into a lounge, dining room.

Below one part was a cellar, this had been refurbished. The only work to do was lagging between the ceiling and lounge floorboards. I also built pillars to take the concrete slab for the wood burner; the fireplace would also be built off this slab.

When the weather was good, I would sometimes go into the garden or the wood with the industrial strimmer I had purchased. Michel was still a regular visitor and was keeping everything under control.

One day I was out doing some cutting in the area where the nut trees are, when I noticed two black snakes.

"Michel had told me about seeing the viper before".

They were bathing in the sun on some rocks. I decided to leave them in peace.

Thirty minutes later Michel arrives. I warn him about the snakes, he quickly jumps back into his pick up truck and drives off. Fifteen minutes later he returns with his dog, and a shotgun. He patrols the area and farmers field adjacent for some three hours, he finally gives up without a shot being fired.

I had built up a good relationship with David; I would be there until the early hours drinking good whiskey.

He was a very nice guy, he bought the house to renovate with his wife, but she unfortunately died before its completion.

He had been a sea captain all of his life on the big oil tankers, visiting many ports in the world. He told me it was in one of these ports that he handed over to the pilot, there was a collision. This led to his company giving him early retirement at the grand old age of fifty, with a good pension.

He was now working in the Middle East.

"Hence all the fine whiskey, duty free".

His salary was tax free, plus his pension so he was in a good financial position.

He would work there for one month, then come and relax here in the beautiful French countryside for one month.

I was sleeping to be woken by a loud bang on the shutters, it was David.

"Would you like a whiskey?"

I check the time; it's two in the morning, that's just the time for a blast.

I quickly dress; I'm soon drinking fifty year old malt in David's lounge. It goes down my throat so smoothly

We start talking; he tells me he once advertised in The Times newspaper for a relationship, this was a surprise.

I didn't realise a so called quality newspaper had a dating column; also I didn't think he would be the type of man to look for a woman in that way.

I want to know more. I ask him what the response was. He tells me he had a lot. A few he met but only one stood out.

I ask him if he contacted her after. To which he replies,

"I tried to telephone a few times but no answer ".

By now we have consumed a good few tots, I tell him to try to call her now.

"Do you think so? It's four in the morning".

After a short pause he's trying to call this lady, no answer. I tell him to call later. I'm heading back to my bed.

Next day he tells me he's made contact, the next time he travels to England they will meet.

"From a crazy whiskey drinking morning, buds bloomed; she was later to become his wife".

I wanted to see some rugby, French style. I see there was an evening game in Agen; they were going to play Racing Club de Paris. These two sides have quite a few French internationals in their respective teams.

I consulted the map, I decided a two hour drive and I could be Agen.

The evening drive was wonderful, beautiful scenery, open roads with very little traffic.

I'm soon in the stadium waiting for kick off. I look around, I see people in shorts, the sun slowly setting, a very balmy evening. Not the cold wet evenings I remember in England when I watch a game.

The teams come out, Agen led by Philippe Sella the captain of France, and he is followed by the Moroccan born forward Bennazi. After a bruising battle Agen run out victorious.

There was one more game of rugby I watched during my time here. It was between my local bastide town and another local town. It was in the afternoon, a very hot day. The game was played at a ferocious pace, lots of injuries and fighting, a true battle. I think the French do love their rugby.

Everything was going well inside and outside the cottage. Michel was still doing a great job in the garden; I was getting friends and family visiting me. I was able to invite people around for a meal, life was good.

I had met my other neighbour Simon, another Englishman. Simon was sixty; he had tried most business ventures. He was like a wheeler dealer. One venture was antiques, because of that he reminded me of Lovejoy.

"Though not in looks".

His girlfriend was Cynthia. She had her own property, but lived in Simon's cottage most of the time. She was a retired teacher, when you first met her she seemed very difficult to get on with. As time went on and I got to know her, I found her to be a very a nice lady.

They would come for dinner, we had great evenings. I would make a big pot of soup, baguette and red wine.

During conversation, Cynthia would disagree with Simon on everything. How they kept together I'm not sure, they were total opposites.

~~~~~

Chapter 4

Amelie

Bergerac was a twenty minute drive away. I had visited the town several times, a very beautiful place sat on the side of the River Dordogne.

I had heard about free jazz in Old Bergerac at the weekend, it takes place in the courtyard of Maison du Vin. This is something to do with the appellation mark for Bergerac wine. I think the building was an old monastery before.

Within the courtyard, musicians from various countries would play, and people would drink their glasses of wine. The musicians would then do a second set later in the evening in another part of Old Bergerac's cobbled streets. I made this a regular weekend feature.

It was on one of these weekend visits that I met Amelie. I'm sat in the courtyard with my glass of wine listening to the music, when I noticed a beautiful lady sat next to me. I keep glancing in her direction. Her skin looks very soft, with a slight tan which is natural. Her hair is short, sandy in colour.

I finally ask her in French if she speaks English. Her reply is,

"Yes".

I ask her if she has the time.

"19-45",

she replies.

Next I ask her,

"Would you like a drink?"

This was the start of a passionate relationship. We would meet in Bergerac the next evening for a meal.

The day started like most with a trip to the bakery, then breakfast. I tried to do some work, but my mind was on the evening I was going to spend with Amelie in Bergerac.

I arrive at La Trellis, a bar restaurant. I had been here before.

Within a few minutes Amelie arrives. She looks fantastic, everything is perfect.

We make our way to the balcony, taking a seat overlooking the Dordogne. With grape vines shading us from the last rays of the evening sun, we start what is to be a very pleasant evening.

She tells me she's French Algerian. Her parents were both French nationals, living and working in Algeria. She was born in Algeria, and schooled there.

She's two years older than me. She has two daughters; fifteen and twenty, years of age from a previous marriage to an American, hence the good English.

She studied art in Madrid; this is where she met her American husband. She married and lived in the USA for several years, during which time she divorced. She then decided to return to France with her youngest daughter. Now the fifteen year old daughter is schooling in Bath, and the twenty year old is living and working in New Orleans.

After some good food and wine, the evening comes to an end. I walk her back to her apartment. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, we arrange to meet next weekend at my cottage.

The week went by so slowly, I think because I wanted to see Amelie. I worked on the house, Michel made a few visits, but I was so glad to wake up to Saturday morning.

I decided to woo this lady with a big pot of my soup, plenty of wine, and go from there.

The evening arrives, into the drive comes a little red car. The door opens, out steps this beautiful woman dressed in a black mini skirt and top, she looks so sexy. I greet her, telling her she looks terrific. I've set a table on the front lawn, I've prepared soup, fish, and salad and there's plenty of wine.

The evening is going well, we eat plenty of food and we are still sipping wine. The conversation made the evening complete, well almost.

After clearing the table, we go and sit on the veranda. Now Amelie is sitting next to me, we are soon holding hands listening to the sounds of the various nocturnal insects. It's at this time I notice it's nearly midnight.

Was she going to drive back to Bergerac?

I mention the time to her. She's staying the night, there's no problem.

We had finally exhausted our conversation, and consumed enough wine, we go to my bedroom.

Amelie slowly removes her clothes, revealing a very curvaceous body. It looks more like that of a twenty year old than a forty year old.

Her breast are solid, the nipples are protruding straight forward like a young woman. After two children surely they would be looking down at the floor.

I think this has to be surgery.

We make love for what seemed to be hours, I didn't want it to end, finally falling asleep.

I had forgotten to close the shutters; I'm woken by the sunlight streaming through the curtains, and the chorus of birds.

I turn to see Amelie still sleeping, her breasts are uncovered. I cannot resist the temptation, I touch them. She stirs. We are soon making love again, her body moves with a terrific motion, this seems better than last night.

Are the breasts real? I'm still not sure.

I sit with my beautiful new French girlfriend and take breakfast, then it's time to say goodbye. She drives off down the lane back to Bergerac; I just wave until she's out of sight.

Time was passing by, I realised I'd fallen in love with this lady. I was spending more and more time at her apartment than in my cottage. She had a lovely apartment over looking the river in the centre of Old Bergerac. It was one of the best parts of my life. In the evening we would go into the cobbled streets and sit outside a bar drinking beer or go to a restaurant. We would then go back to the apartment, making love before going to sleep. During the day I would do nothing, just sit waiting for her to come home from work.

I decided I would start spending weekdays at the cottage, the work was falling behind. Amelie would be for weekends only.

Not seeing her all week was very difficult, but it did make the weekend very special.

David was now living with his new wife Carla. Our whiskey drinking nights had stopped. He was a changed man.

What had I done, that night with my crazy suggestion of a phone call?

David invited me over to have dinner one evening. He had a bunch of friends from New Zealand staying; I think it was six in all.

The evening came, I was introduced to them, very nice people.

There was Rod, he was a medical doctor, and he was writing a book. He had done a lot of things during his life; he set up a hospital in Asia well doing his backpacking, a very interesting man.

His wife Toni was a lovely lady, a teacher.

Next was Brian and Sally, they were going to move to Australia when they get back, due to Brian's business commitments, Sally was Toni's sister.

Next Samantha, a forty year old divorcee, with blonde bob cut, and good figure.

"I like this one".

Finally Sheila, another teacher with a good body, also divorced. David and Sheila were very old friends.

The evening went well, everyone enjoyed the environment, the conversation was stimulating, and the food was good.

For me the highlight of the evening was when one of the people asked David how he met Carla. Being a truthful man he replied, "The Times", the table went quite; Carla looked a little embarrassed as David proceeded to explain to everyone the story.

The next day chatting to the visitors, they told me they thought David was joking about the advert but then realised it was true. I think they were surprised.

They stayed for about six weeks, and then slowly started to leave. I think Sheila was the last; I took her to Bordeaux to pick up a flight.

They all gave me their contact numbers, and told me if I ever came to New Zealand to let them know.

"This was to be very useful later".

I was still seeing my beautiful girlfriend, but now only at the weekends. So I was very surprised when her little red car came into the drive.

"It was Wednesday midday".

She came running up to me putting her arms around my neck, she gave me a very passionate kiss. She told me that she had got the day off and decided to surprise me, which she did.

It was a very hot sunny day, we took baguette, cheese and wine, crossing the little bridge we sat in the shade of the trees.

Wine and food finished, we were soon naked. Amelie was a little nervous, when I explained this area was hidden, she seemed to lose her anxiety.

"Although I dare not tell her about the snakes".

We started to make love in what was possibly the most beautiful surroundings, when from nowhere came a shower of rain. The sun still shining, rain showering down on us, the droplets feeling cold against our skin, we continued to make love; it was one of the best.

The rain had finished so had we. Resting on our backs looking into the tree canopy, we were put into a state of panic by the loud ringing of my door bell.

"It was a brass bell on an ornamental arm, which was loud enough to be heard around the garden".

Fortunately the ground levels are not the same, so we should be hidden. I slowly lift my head to look over the rocks.

"Yes, were the snakes like to sunbathe".

There's a small van parked, a man is standing on the veranda, it's the postman. The problem here is the postman likes to sit and have a chat, not like England.

We can't move, we just lie flat. I hope he doesn't start wandering around looking for me.

After what seems a lifetime, the engine of the van starts and he drives off. Instead of getting dressed, this just seems to prompt us into another bout of love making.

It's a beautiful fresh morning; I go to the old lady for some eggs. She's already outside working. I ask her for eggs, we are soon looking around the hedgerows. She knows where these chickens lay, I soon have a dozen free range eggs.

She invites me in for coffee, which I accept with pleasure.

"Her coffee is good".

Sat at the big wooden table in her kitchen, we try to chat in my poor French and sign language. There is something about grapes, but what it is I'm not sure.

There's a knock at the door, in walks Cynthia, my prayers are answered. Cynthia will translate for me. Cynthia tells me that they are harvesting the grapes this weekend.

"Le Vindage".

I have been invited to help.

This is a social event here, you do not get paid but you will get fed. Each small farm helps one another the same way.

I accept the offer, and thank Cynthia for helping me. I turn to the old lady; I thank her for the coffee. Paying for my eggs, I say goodbye.

I wake up and look at the time, shit it's nine thirty and Saturday. I was supposed to be at the farm grape picking at eight this morning.

I quickly dress and throw a little cold water on my face. I walk rapidly to the farm, cleaning my teeth with my finger and toothpaste on route.

I arrive to find everyone working away. I give my apologies. I am soon in possession of a pair of sectors, after a short coaching session I am loading my own basket.

The sun is strong, and I am happy to hear the call for lunch. It's midday, I've only been here two hours, I feel a little guilty.

Everyone proceeds to the veranda of the farmhouse where a long table has been laid.

This is where I meet the son's who have come to help in the harvesting, Alain and Benoit. Benoit lives in Paris, Alain is still local.

We soon build up a good relationship, they both like their rugby, so England, France, six nations, becomes a good topic.

We are given our places to sit. I'm opposite two old men, they look ninety years of age but are probably not, just well worn from working outdoors.

Alain is getting drinks for everyone. He brings me a very large whiskey, is it written on my fucking head, or has he been tipped off.

First we are given a large bowl of vegetable soup. This goes down well with bread and two glasses of red wine. I'm starting to feel light headed.

Soup finished, the two old men fill their soup bowls up with wine, probably half a bottle each. They drink it down in one gulp.

I'm told this is a tradition; I will have to do the same. I fill my bowl; yes it's half a bottle. Down it goes in one gulp, now I'm defiantly feeling the effects.

We eat and drink for three hours solid. The food and wine was all home produce, very delicious.

It's time to go back to the fields. I'm now feeling pissed, the sun feels even hotter than earlier, and I have to bend my fucking back picking grapes.

What am I doing here?

Fortunately the afternoon session is only two hours, which goes by very quickly. Everyone finished, we start to leave. We are told to come back this evening to finish the food.

After a shower and a change of clothing, I'm back at the farm, it's seven o'clock.

Still with the effects of the lunch time drink, I start drinking with the brothers. Wine, whiskey, beer, au de vie, talking rugby among other things, this goes on until midnight. When I leave the farm, I am totally intoxicated.

I don't live far from the farm, but I'm still not sure how I got home.

The next morning I am still in my clothes. They are dirty, so I think I must have ended up on the floor at some stage.

For the next four days I'm ill, I've never been like this before.

~~~~~

Chapter 5

The Plan

I had been thinking for sometime about travelling around the world. I had made a rough itinerary and found a ticket that would suit what I wanted to do for less than £700.

My plan is to fly to the USA, using Greyhound Coaches I will cross from the east coast to the west coast, following the Gulf of Mexico and the border with Mexico. I found that I can buy a book of tickets valid for one month, which will let me go on any coach, to any destination.

Next I will fly the Pacific, dropping in at Oahu, Fiji, Cook Islands and finally into New Zealand.

I will then take a short hop to Australia, finishing in Perth on the west coast. From there it's a flight into Asia.

My first stop in Asia is going to be Bali, Indonesia. Then I will go onto the capital, Jakarta. There I will get a flight to Singapore. This part of the journey will be overland, through Malaysia and into Thailand, finally resting in Bangkok.

I will leave Bangkok, flying into Nepal. I will make my way down into India, on the east coast. I will then travel by train across Northern India to New Delhi. Here I will finish the trip, flying back to Old Blighty. The journey is going to take me one year.

Now it was decision time.

Do I do it or not?

It's quite an easy question to answer really.

"Yes".

The project is in motion, but first I have a few questions that need answering.

What about my beautiful girlfriend, how will she take it that I'm going away for one year?

Who will look after my cottage, or should I let it?

Will Michel keep the garden in check?

Who will pay the bills?

These are all questions that need to be addressed.

First I will trust Michel to look after the terrain; he hasn't let me down yet, so that one I can cross off my list.

I have an idea with the rest.

Amelie's daughter lives in New Orleans. I'm going to ask her if she would like to visit her daughter and meet up with me at the same time. When I tell her I will pay for her ticket, I'm sure she will say yes. It will also give me free accommodation in New Orleans. I will also ask her if she will look after the cottage for me and pay the bills. I will tell her she can stay there if she wants.

Letting would be a little difficult because the renovations are not yet complete.

Well that's my plan.

Will it work?

Only Amelie can give me the answer. This weekend she's coming, I will put these proposals to her.

The weekend arrives and so does Amelie into my drive. We decide to go into the local bastide to a bar, here I will tell her about my plan.

When we arrive I'm greeted by Charles, another Englishman I met through Stella in the UK. Charles is renovating a three story house; it's just off the main town square.

He likes his drink so much he lost his licence in the UK. This threatened his job. He worked for a company in England; part of the job requirement was driving to different sites. One day he was called into the office. Expecting the worst he was offered early retirement at the age of fifty. He got himself an international driving licence and carries on driving here in France.

After a few drinks I decide to go back to my cottage, I still haven't explained my plan to Amelie.

Back at the cottage, we settle down on the veranda with a bottle of wine. I first tell her that I've planned a round the world trip and it will take one year. Her reaction is.

"Why?"

I explain that I need to do this; she seems to understand my motives.

I then ask her about meeting me in New Orleans; there she could see her daughter. Her reaction was as expected.

"I don't have the cash for that"

When I tell her I will pay for her ticket, she leaps from her seat and gives me a big hug. The rest is irrelevant, she doesn't have problem with looking after the cottage well I'm away.

The evening is finished, we go to the bedroom. I watch her slip out of her clothes, revealing that beautiful body.

I will miss this for one year.

This morning Amelie goes off to the bakery, I stay and prepare a pot of fresh coffee and omelette for breakfast. She soon returns with fresh, crispy, piping hot baguette.

Over breakfast we continue talking about the trip, meeting in New Orleans, and much more.

Breakfast finished, we decide to go down to the lake. It's Sunday so Amelie is not working. Most towns have a lake with a man made beach.

After a few hours walking and sitting by the lake, we go to the hippodrome nearby. I'd noticed when we passed earlier there was racing there.

This hippodrome is oval in shape, when travelling you will see them in most towns. The jockey sits on a two wheel buggy; he is pulled along by a racehorse at pretty fast speeds. Sometimes there are spectacular crashes. The sport is called trotting. I found it a little boring really, but Amelie enjoyed it and it was well supported, so I think the French public like it.

We are back at the cottage preparing some food when I hear the sound of a mowing machine coming up the lane. The sound gets closer and closer, until finally into the drive pulls Michel. It's Sunday evening six o'clock, and he's come to cut the grass.

I can definitely rely on him well I'm away.

The story I was told was that Michel had his own farm, he was quite a wealthy man. He married a lady, I think she was black. He gave her everything because he was so much in love with her. They finally parted; Michel was in debt and had to sell his farm. He kept one steel frame barn for himself, which is where he lives now.

I visited him on a few occasions, the barn is open on three sides. Within the barn he has put up concrete block single room, this is where he sleeps. I think he's quite a lonely person so his work is all he has.

This evening we invite Michel to eat with us, which he accepts. The evening is good, with Amelie here she translates to Michel for me.

"He has a very strong accent, and also throws in the local patois, so I never understand him".

I explain that I'm going away for a long period; Amelie will be looking after the house for me. I tell him,

"I want you to keep the garden in good condition".

He assures me he will.

The evening comes to an end. Michel goes off down the lane on his mower, followed by my beautiful lady in her little red car. I'm alone again.

I sit on my veranda drinking whiskey; I think how well the weekend has gone. Then my mind moves to thoughts of my trip. The time I will spend away from my lovely girlfriend.

Stop thinking it's time for bed.

Over the next few weeks I was combining the renovations on the cottage, with research for my trip, and getting the property ready to be locked up. Some items, like tools I want to load into the car and take back with me when I finally leave.

I have finally made my decision; I have a ticket for this Monday's ferry from Caen. This is going to be my last weekend for sometime with Amelie, so I've decided to go to Bergerac and spend it there.

I arrive in Old Bergerac, parking the car down near the river.

I remember when I was staying with Amelie in her apartment. I watched as the river started to rise and the car park was slowly submerged in water. Everybody moved their cars throughout the day, except one person. People tried to move it to safety by bumping it, but in the end it was underwater, or at least up to the windows.

The owner had gone where? Nobody new, but they had a shock when they returned a few days later.

I make my way to Amelie's apartment, ringing the bell the door opens. There she is looking beautiful, just as I expected. We go upstairs; I sit waiting for her to finish her make up.

She has this little terrier dog, which when I lived there annoyed me so much. I sit pretending I'm enjoying its company, when really I want to throw it out of the fucking window.

She's finished, that's good we can go.

We decide to go to the courtyard where we first met and listen to some music. We drink a few glasses of wine, white for her, red for me, until the set is finished.

I've booked a table on the balcony under the vines at La Trellis. We have the perfect evening, good food, good wine and good company. With the street lights glistening on the river, the setting is perfect.

We manage to listen to some of the second set of jazz by the fountain on the cobbles. The evening finishes sitting outside one of the many bars in Old Bergerac, drinking a good strong coffee.

We return to the apartment. My little terrier friend is still here, not fallen out of the window unfortunately.

We make love until the early hours of the morning, then fall asleep holding each other.

The morning arrives, I go to the window. Looking down I see my car. The river looks fantastic with the sun shining down on it.

We sit and have breakfast, we are both very quite. I think we know this is goodbye, for a while anyway.

Breakfast finished, I give Amelie a set of keys for the cottage.

After a big hug and kiss, I walk down the stairs. Opening the door I walk out onto the cobbles of Old Bergerac.

The sun shining, I start to walk to my car. I glance up to the apartment window, I see Amelie waving. I wave back, blowing her a kiss, and then I get in the car.

Driving back to my cottage I admire the wonderful scenery, but my mind keeps going back to Amelie stood at the window waving goodbye. Tonight is going to be a very long one.

I reach the cottage and pull into the drive.

I have just one thing to do today, that's load up the car with the items I want to take back tomorrow.

That done, I make a list of things I need to do tomorrow before I leave, then I will relax for the rest of the day.

The evening arrives; it's like most, but this time a little more sombre. I sit on the veranda drinking whiskey alone. I just think about what I am leaving behind, as I thought, it will be a long evening.

I mustn't drink too much tonight, I have a long drive tomorrow.

This morning I go through my list. Turn off the water and electricity, drain down the tank. Amelie knows how to reinstate if she wants to stay.

Put bedding away into a chest to stop the mice eating it. Close and lock shutters. I think that's everything.

I walk around the grounds checking the outside of the cottage, then back to the front door. The door is a very old wooden door, maybe original; the cottage is three hundred years old. The lock is also pretty ancient, the key is huge and I only have one. I will hide this; Amelie will pick it up later. I put the key into the lock then turn. I check to see if it's locked then hide the key.

I get into my car and start the engine. I reverse out of the drive; slowly I make my way down the lane onto the main road. I say goodbye to my little piece of France.

It's back to sleeping on the floors and couches, maybe if I am lucky, beds, of friends.

~~~~~

Chapter 6

East Coast to West Coast Part I

I had spent three weeks in England catching up with family and friends and sorting out my trip. Shopping for the trip was complete; I was on my way to Heathrow Airport.

Luggage checked in, boarding pass issued, I'm soon entering the door of the aircraft. I'm flying Virgin Atlantic to Miami. Safely buckled into my seat we are soon airborne, seat belt sign goes off, I sit back and relax for nine hours.

I quickly notice the air hostesses look like page three girls in their bright red uniforms; maybe this is the criteria for the job. Service was good, food and entertainment also good. The seat belt sign goes on; we are landing at Miami International Airport.

Quickly and efficiently.

"The American way".

I'm through immigration.

I collect my bag and proceed through the nothing to declare exit, I'm out into the main hall of the airport.

I'm in America.

I really was expecting more hassle. People who had visited before gave me their stories of delays and red tape with the American's. I found none of this, the officials were polite.

I now need to get to the Greyhound Bus Station. I ask someone looking official how to get there? She tells me to go outside, I will see several buses and to ask there. I will also need a $1 bill for the machine on the bus as you enter.

I have dollar bills but nothing as small as $1.

I ask her if I can get change anywhere. she tells me no, she tells me she doesn't have either. I will have to try asking people.

The first person I see is a pretty young girl about twenty two years old. I ask her if she can change a $10 bill, she can't. She asks me why I want change. I tell her I need $1 for the bus, she takes out her purse, she offers me $1. I tell her I can't give her change, to which she replies,

"No problem ",

With a quick goodbye, she's gone. I hope all American's are this friendly.

I walk out of the main building to the bus terminal, where I am shown the bus I need for the Greyhound Station. I enter putting my money into the machine.

I ask the driver for the stop for my destination, he acknowledges with a nod of his head. After a trip of ten to fifteen minutes he tells me this is where I get off. He points to a road on the opposite side and tells me the station is there.

I notice that I have a six lane highway to get across; fortunately it's not to busy.

Crossing completed, I start to walk down the road the driver directed me to. There doesn't seem to be any street lights working and it's now dark.

I see nothing that resembles a sign for Greyhound. I walk; I notice there are no people about so I cannot ask for directions.

It's so dark I can only make out the shadows of the buildings and cars. I can hear music coming from some places.

I start to feel a little uneasy carrying my backpack.

Am I a target for robbery? I think so.

I keep walking, still nothing, am I going the right way? I'm not sure.

I thought this fucking bus was dropping me outside the bus station.

I carry on walking, a car pulls up. I can see four young black boys, with the help of the internal lights of the dash board. I decide to keep walking; asking them for directions could be a mistake. They sit with the engine of the car still running, looking at me as I walk past them. I don't look back; I hear the car pull away.

I think I'm in a black neighbourhood. My mind is now thinking my trip could end before it's even started.

I keep walking, an illuminated sign appears. Is it what I'm looking for? It gets closer and closer, finally I can make out the writing on the sign. It's the bus station, I'm very happy.

I think it's taken me twenty to thirty minutes to walk, with hindsight a taxi would have been better.

Inside the terminal it's quite busy. Security guards with guns patrolling a mix of people, Black, White and Hispanic.

I go to the ticket desk with my book of tickets. I tell the man at the desk I want a ticket to New Orleans. With my conformation stamp on the ticket, I'm told there is a bus leaving in fifteen minutes, what a stroke of luck.

I'm soon seated on the bus to New Orleans; this is an overnight bus, so it's my bed for the night. Tomorrow morning I will be meeting my beautiful French girlfriend.

The bus moves out, we are rolling. The driver goes through a list of rules which would become very familiar as I travel on these buses. No food, no drink, no drugs, anyone disobeying these rules will be ejected from the bus.

Wow, I cannot see people in England listening to this shit.

I'm feeling a little tired so I try to get into a comfortable position and cover myself with the blanket supplied.

The bus makes several stops on route. It's at one of these stops I feel the seat move. I have someone sitting next to me.

I lift my head to see a pretty black American girl in her twenties with big afro hair, reminiscent of Marsh Hunt, a style popular during my youth in the sixties and seventies.

We start to talk, she tells me she is going to Atlanta so will be changing buses at a later stage. We both settle down under our blankets. She puts her head on my shoulder and falls asleep. I can't sleep, perhaps she's a thief, and also this big bush on her head is tickling my fucking nose.

After a while she wakes up and we get even closer. Soon she's unzipping me and rubbing my cock; I in return caress her breasts.

Finally we reach the stop where she's getting off the bus. We say our goodbyes and I am alone again.

Morning arrives and the bus is entering the station in New Orleans.

I collect my bag and start to look for a phone. I want to phone Amelie. I find a kiosk, after a little while I work out the phone system. I dial the number Amelie gave me. I get a reply; it's Amelie, I'm so happy to hear her voice. She asks me where I am, I tell her I'm at the bus station. She tells me to wait; she will be with me in ten to fifteen minutes.

Time passes and I'm soon hugging my sweetheart. We get in the same taxi that brought her to the station. We drive a little way out of city into a beautiful tree lined suburb with quaint timber houses painted bright colours. We finally reach a large timber house that has been divided up into apartments.

We climb three steps onto a shaded veranda.

I imagine sitting here in a rocking chair.

Opening the front door, we enter into the main hall. We take a door to the left and enter into the apartment of her daughter.

The apartment is very spacious, Amelie shows me where we will sleep, the lounge.

I'm use to that.

I'm soon in the shower, sadly on my own. Cleaned up after my overnight trip we drink some coffee and talk. I ask her if everything is fine at the cottage, she tells me it is. Michel is still keeping the terrain under control.

She had arrived a few days earlier; she tells me that her trip was good. I ask where her daughter is, she tells me she's working, I will meet her later.

Amelie tells me we will go back into the city for some sight seeing.

We walk down a tree lined avenue to the main road; here we get into a tram. Within a few minutes we're in the city.

First she takes me to the river, the great Mississippi. I see a big paddle steamer moored, another one is ploughing through the water. In this area there are a lot of street performers, jugglers, acrobats and mime artists. Time soon passes and we are back on the tram to her daughter's apartment.

I hear keys in the lock of the door; it's her daughter arriving home from work. I'm introduced to her, very confident girl, different to the younger daughter who I met in France. Introductions finished we decide to go out and eat at a restaurant this evening.

Everybody showered and changed, we're on the tram heading back to the city.

The evening is balmy with a slight breeze. Amelie's daughter takes us to a boardwalk near the river which is full of restaurants selling fish dishes. We sit drinking beer with a very large plate of crayfish and spicy sauce. The evening passes quickly and we are back on the tram heading out of the city.

The night doesn't have the passion that it had in France; I think Amelie is finding it a little difficult with her daughter in the next room.

Breakfast finished and with her daughter already at work, Amelie asks me if I would mind being on my own well she cleans the apartment. I tell her to go ahead; this gives me chance to look around the neighbourhood.

I go out of the front door onto the veranda. Down the steps I go right and start exploring. Walking along I notice some of the wooden houses are in a bit of a state. The wood is rotting the gardens overgrown. I then start to notice most people here are black, I think this is a black neighbourhood. Maybe many years ago it would have been a white neighbourhood.

The streets are tree lined with grass verges, they are very well kept.

I give a greeting. I get a response back from the older people, the younger one's look at me as if I'm trespassing.

I get back to the apartment to find Amelie just finishing her work. We are soon on the tram heading to the city. We are going for a cup of coffee with a difference.

We head for the music area of New Orleans, Bourbon Street. We find a coffee shop which is no small place. Everything inside, from the décor to the coffee machines, looks original, dating back eighty years perhaps.

We take a table near a small stage. Five black men, ages ranging from fifty to seventy are singing what sounds like soul, certainly not jazz. The lead singer who looks the eldest, is playing harmonica, this gives it a blues sound.

They finish a song and a young white man gets up onto the stage. He makes conversation with the men.

When they start the next song, they are joined by the white man, he produces his own harmonica. The two compete against each other, duelling banjos style, the crowd really enjoy. The set finishes, the young man is given a well deserved ovation as he leaves the stage.

Well, all of this was the price of a cup of coffee, great entertainment.

Tonight Amelie's daughter is taking us to her local bar where all of her friends hang out.

I'm stood in the lounge with the daughter talking. She opens the draw of a small table and takes out a little revolver; she places it into her handbag. I ask her if it's real, she tells me it is. I want to know more.

"Why do you carry it?"

I ask her.

She tells me that all of her friends have them for protection. This girl and her friends are in their early twenties. They are walking the streets, using the clubs and bars, carrying firearms, legally I think.

God Fuck America.

We have a great night, but I couldn't stop thinking about these kids in this bar with a firearm in their pocket or bag.

My time had come to an end in New Orleans. Today I'm going to Baton Rouge, a two hour drive away. There I will get the night bus to San Antonio.

Walking away from the apartment, I turn to see Amelie waving, I wave back. It was nice to be with her again but the passion and spark seems to have deserted our relationship. Next time I see her will be in one year, let's see what we have for each other then.

I'm soon stepping off the bus in Baton Rouge, it's early afternoon. The name conjures up something but the place does very little for me.

The evening arrives; I'm on the Greyhound to San Antonio. I was told this trip will take about 9 hours. The driver starts the usual, no drink, no food, no drugs, no smoking, and we are rolling.

A few hours pass. There seems to be is a little problem at the back of the coach.

"Hey driver there's a guy here drinking JD and smoking ".

No response from the driver, so what was all the bullshit he was saying before we departed? The people at the back are still telling the driver but still no response.

The man has now changed seats, he's sitting opposite me. He is drunk and he is smoking, but I don't see the bottle of JD.

The bus pulls into a station, is it a routine stop for more passengers? No two very large men in civilian clothes board the bus. They approach the man and ask him to leave. His reply is not very clear due to the drink, drugs or both. They try to help him from his seat, he refuses. Now it's time to forcibly eject him. They do this with ease, they are very big men.

The bus is moving again. I now see how the system works, they don't tolerate drinking, food, smoking, drugs.

I think it must be early morning, maybe three o'clock. We are going through a very large city. The skyscrapers are lit up against the black sky by the moon, it looks pretty impressive. I finally see a sign, it reads Houston.

I did manage a few hours sleep but I'm wide awake as the bus pulls into the station. We have reached San Antonio.

I did read that because of the city architecture being old, the movie companies use it for film sets. I'm going to stay here overnight so I go to find myself a room.

I start to explore the city, yes the buildings are old. I can see the gangsters of the thirties having their shoot outs well the cameras roll.

There's also a man made canal system here which I'm able to find. I walk along the path following the canal. I find a small outdoor theatre, restaurants and it also leads to a huge shopping mall with waterfall. It's possible to travel around by small boat, even into the mall. Sometimes I have to climb stairs to the road level and then drop back down again, interesting but I need some food.

I go into one of the restaurants on the canal, typical American food, burgers amongst other things. I take a seat at an empty table. I watch a family being served. The waiter is putting a child's bib around their necks. Before I have time to move, I have the same being done to me. This is a theme restaurant. There are all the usual things, a rowing boat hanging from the ceiling. I am not sure what the bibs represent?

I order food; I see why the American people are such fat bastards. The plate is piled with enough food for two people and its all junk food.

After a few beers in a bar, the evening comes to an end; it's time to go to bed. Tomorrow I have something interesting to look at.

I had good nights sleep in a bed and some breakfast in my stomach, I'm off to The Alamo. Yes Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie.

Growing up I new the story about the Battle of the Alamo. You could buy a Bowie knife, Davy Crockett Hat and here I was going to the actual place.

When I arrive I see that it's in the middle of the city. I read that parts of it are buried under buildings, like the post office. I thought it would have been outside the city or on the edge but the city was built around it.

It was quite interesting looking around and reading the history for a few hours. I need some food now because tonight I will be on the bus to El Paso. Is it back to the restaurant with the bib? No.

The bus pulls out of the station; I'm going to El Paso a border town. I've managed to get the seat next to the entrance of the bus, so there's plenty of legroom and there's no one sitting by me.

After fifteen minutes we make a stop, a very big man, or should I say fat bastard, gets on.

Please don't sit by me. He fucking does.

From my comfortable position, I am now pushed up against the window. What seemed like hours but was probably less than one hour, he exits the bus. What a relief, now I have my comfort zone again. I will try to get some sleep.

I wake to find the bus is making a stop and picking up passengers. Will I lose my comfort zone again?

Two young girls who look Hispanic get on. They have a suit case which is very heavy; they are struggling to lift it so they drag it instead. It gets caught on my seat; I hit it free for them. They look at me and smile then proceed to the back of the bus.

We are moving again, I start to sleep. I am woken by a bump. I look up to see that I've been joined by one of the young girls, why is she not sitting with her friend? We talk a little; she offers me some sweet she's eating. I decline. We both settle down and try to sleep.

The bus makes another stop, this time it's the police.

I look out of the window and see buildings; this is almost like a border crossing.

Two officers get on to the bus, they ask me if this is my bag above me in the luggage rack. I tell them it is. They proceed down to the back of the bus asking everyone the same question they asked me.

There's a piece of luggage that's not being claimed by anyone. After some minutes of discussion, the item is brought to the front of the bus. The officers ask again who it belongs to.

I look at the girl next to me, she smiles. It's her case.

What's going on here?

The officers take the case off the bus. They lay it down on the tarmac outside. A police dog starts to sniff the case, it then it goes into a little frenzy. The dog is pulled away and the case is opened, it's full of what looks like cannabis. It's a drugs bust.

The police allow the bus to leave without the suitcase. The young girl sitting next to me just starts chatting to me, she's a very cool customer.

We make a stop. I watch these girls head straight to the phone booth to make a call,

I wonder what will happen to them for loosing the case.

I talk to a fellow passenger; he asks me what my thoughts are? I tell him that the case belongs to the girls, he agrees. I ask him why nobody told the police. He tells me that it's possible one of the other passengers could be part of the group. They may have a gun, so you keep quite. I understand.

We are moving again. The girl is now sitting with her friend; sitting by me was just some kind of cover I think.

I now keep thinking about me touching the case and the girl sitting by me. I could easily have been linked to these two girls.

The bus arrives into the station, I'm in El Paso. This is a border town with Mexico. I want to cross into Ciudad Juárez on the Mexican side for a few hours tomorrow.

It's early morning, I will get some breakfast before I look for a room

The evening arrives, I'm feeling pretty tired. I spent the day drinking beer and wandering around this place.

Back in my room I put the television on. I find a news channel; it has an item of news about here. Last night a man was murdered, his body was found in the street just around the corner from this motel.

Shit I'm staying in tonight.

Morning is here, I'm off to Mexico.

Border formalities finished I'm on the Mexican side. If you are staying no more than twenty four hours you only need to show ID, pretty simple.

Lots of people do this crossing during the day; they bring back things to sell on the American side. It has the reputation for being one of the most violent cites in the world. It was founded in 1659 by the Spanish; it was called Paso del Norte.

Wandering around it seems to be a very ordinary city, everyone going about their business. I find a market; some of the stalls are selling Mexican food. People seem to be eating a taco, a tortilla with meat inside. I decide to try one. I ask the lady, she only speaks Spanish. After some finger pointing she gives me my food. I take a big bite.

Fuck, it's so hot.

People start to laugh. One man who speaks English tells me there are three different grades of spice. He tells me the lady asked me if I wanted hot, I told her I did.

It's evening and I'm sat here in the bus station just watching the people. These places are quite interesting, some really oddball people. Maybe I'm oddball to them also.

I have a ticket to Albuquerque. Soon the bus is moving out of the station. Time passes and I notice something very strange, there's snow and very deep on the side of the road. This entire trip has been hot sunshine, this is different, why? Maybe it's altitude.

The bus arrives in Albuquerque station, I go outside. It's fucking freezing.

I'm not staying here.

I return to the hall and head for the ticket desk. I'm soon in possession of a ticket to Phoenix.

I think I stayed in the bus station for two hours, so what did I see in Albuquerque? nothing.

~~~~~

Chapter 7

East Coast to West Coast Part II

The trip to Phoenix was pretty uneventful. The person sitting next to me was man who had just been released from prison. I didn't ask him why he had been there. He seemed a nice guy but not very intelligent.

I'm wandering around the town; it's a nice place and very warm. It's in the desert, it must be sixty degrees and it's November. There's a range of hills which make for some good scenery.

I notice how quite it is, everywhere is closed. Shit, it's Thanksgiving today, that's why.

I start to look for a restaurant, they are all closed. People are going into that one, let me try. I go inside, this looks a bit strange. A lady approaches me, I ask her for a menu. She tells me they are closed, this is her family party, but she invites me to sit. After a good feed but no beer on the premises, I'm charged $5, good value.

Back on the street I look for a bar, I need a beer. It doesn't take me long to find one.

I enter and sit at the bar. Drinking my beer I seem to be getting some attention from the few locals that are in here, just staring at me.

I start to look at the walls. There are photos with IRA connections. On the bar a newspaper is for sale. Looking at the front page, it's definitely Sinn Fein, the political wing of the IRA. There's a collection box, listening to the music playing I detect Irish protest songs.

I decide to drink up and leave, I don't think I am welcome here.

I walk along trying to find a bed for the night, I keep thinking of the bar. I had read that the IRA relied on funds from the Irish American community, maybe it's true.

I'm heading for Tucson for the day, a two hour drive away.

I think its claim to fame is the gun fight at the OK Corral with Wyatt Earp, the legendary US Marshal in 1881.

Tonight I'm on the bus to San Diego. My co-passenger is a guy called Mike. He's making his way back home to San Diego. He's been visiting friends in a few different cities, one being New York.

He's an interesting guy. He's twenty four years old, likes to smoke pot and his music tastes are like mine. In fact he reminds me of myself when I was younger.

When I start to tell him of the bands I had seen during the seventies, he is in awe. He invites me to stay at his mother's house when we reach San Diego, which I accept.

During the trip the bus makes several stops. During these stops I notice two women who are sat in the seat behind. The one is very beautiful; she looks Mexican, dark hair and skin. She gets up from her seat and walks to the front of the bus. She turns her head, looks at me and we have eye contact. She gives a little smile and gets off the bus to buy something.

Back in her seat we talk. She's going to San Diego to see her son. He's in the US Navy and he's getting some award.

She's thirty eight years old, same as me.

She's divorced, same as me.

Her name is Anna.

Time I had spent talking to Anna; Mike had been sleeping but was now awake. He tells me we will soon be coming to the bus station.

My first thought is the beautiful Anna will disappear.

The bus pulls into the station. Mike and I remain seated well the mad rush of people race for the door.

I watch Anna get to the door, she smiles and wave's goodbye, she disappears.

Should I go after her?

No.

I'm at Mike's house; he introduces me to his mother, a very nice lady.

This suburb is a nice place; Mike tells me there's a beach nearby.

We spend a lot of time listening to music; I'm impressed with his collection of vinyl's.

The day and evening soon goes by. I'm given a camp bed in the lounge, sleeping is no problem.

Over breakfast Mike tells me some things to see and do in the city.

He tells me he hangs out with his friends at one of the houses on Mission Beach. I must visit one night for a beer.

I'm put on a bus that will take me to the centre of the city. I want to go back to the bus station; next to it is a small hotel with good rooms.

I reach the bus station, right in the centre, not like a lot of these stations. I find the hotel next door and there's a bar, this will be fine.

I have a room, now it's time to explore.

Mike told me to visit Old Town San Diego. This is a collection of old buildings. It's actually a state museum and I was told the original beginnings of San Diego. I will go and see if I can find it.

After a walk through the streets of the city, I find the place I'm looking for. It's a tourist attraction, a little bit false for me.

I return to my room. Tonight I will go to the beach where Mike and his friends hang out.

Showered and changed I phone Mike. He tells me where to get the bus and where to get off.

I reach the place Mike told me, there he is waiting. A few minutes walk and I'm sat with his friends drinking beer.

The air is a little thick with smoke. Everyone is puffing on a big joint, I'm offered but I decline.

The music playing is Pink Floyd; these lads were born in the wrong era.

There's a knock on the door and in walks another friend. His name is Tom and he's moved to Hawaii.

I am going to Oahu, maybe I can get some info from him.

He arrived today for a few days, visiting family and friends. He sits, opens a can, and takes a few puffs from Mike's joint.

Opening his rucksack he feels inside. He takes out a block of cannabis. I'm amazed; it's the size of a house brick.

"Where did you get it from?"

I ask.

"I brought it with me on the plane from the island",

he replies.

Because it's a domestic flight, things are not checked. I still think it's a risk.

I didn't want to go back too late, so I say goodbye to everyone and head back to the city.

Arriving at the hotel I notice a difference compared to daytime. There are homeless people sitting on the pavement, drinking their alcoholic beverages. Now this does look more like the norm for these stations.

The hotel bar is a typical CHEERS BAR. I sit on a stool at the bar. I strike up a conversation with three fellow drinkers; it made for an interesting night.

Today I'm crossing the border into Mexico at Tijuana. Immigration completed, I look for transport.

I'm getting into a big old style American car, wings and all. There are six passengers in all. I'm sat in the back seat, with three others. Next to me I have a Mexican lady, about forty five years old. She speaks to me in English, which is a great relief. She gives me good information as we are being driven along.

I'm going to a place called Rosarito on the California Baja.

On route I see the fields are burning. The fire is moving very fast, it's being assisted by a strong breeze. People are using very basic means to control the fire, without much success. As we pass I see why the people are panicking, the fire is heading in the direction of their homes.

We passed the scene, it is now long gone. I keep thinking to myself, what happened to those homes?

The car reaches Rosarito. This place is popular for the beach; it's used by Americans for their vacations. I'm not sure how long we have been travelling but it didn't take long to get here.

I need to find a place to sleep. I ask a few people. Someone tells me about a small hotel, one block away. I find the hotel and book two nights.

The rest of today and all of tomorrow should be enough to explore this place.

I did like Rosarito, but I think one day and a bit was enough for me.

I spend the next four days in San Diego. I've enjoyed this place, but it's time to go.

I didn't have far to go this evening to get to the bus station. I've already got my ticket, next stop is San Francisco.

I'm sitting watching the usual strange things happening. The guy opposite me puts white powder on the back of his hand, he snorts it. Cocaine I think. The security men are doing the routine patrol, gun at the ready. A couple are having a domestic.

Well I'm sat waiting; a woman passes and sits near me. You know the feeling you get.

"Where have I seen that face before?"

I look at her and try to remember, she looks at me and smiles. The smile kick starts my memory.

She's the woman on the bus, Anna, who was visiting her son. I greet her, she greets me back.

She's going back to Corpus Christi. Her bus leaves at eight thirty this evening, mine one hour later.

I invite her for a drink at the bar. We are soon chatting and drinking like we have known each other for a long time. Her departure time is getting closer.

I do like this lady.

I ask her,

"Should I change my ticket, from San Francisco to Corpus Christi?"

with a happy smile on her face, she agrees.

We are on the highway. I have this beautiful woman, cuddled up sleeping next to me.

What were the chances of seeing her again, is this what they call fate.

It's taken me three weeks to travel from Baton Rouge to here. I'm heading back, am I stupid?

This is going to be a twenty to thirty hour trip, and then I will have to come back again. I have a flight out of L.A.

This is not fate, it is cock before brain.

We've arrived in Corpus Christi. I know nothing about this place, it was never on my itinerary but I have a guide.

We get into a taxi and soon arrive at Anna's house. It reminds me of the suburb where I stayed in New Orleans. The house is colourfully painted timber style. Inside it's very comfortable, in the lounge there's a large couch.

"That will be my bed for the night".

Anna is soon taking me around meeting her friends; most of them seem to be Hispanic. She shows me the town, nice place.

I ask her if I can buy her lunch. she accepts my invitation.

She takes me to a typical American style restaurant, this one is fish only. I order fish, scampi, and fries. When it arrives I can't believe my eyes. The fries are enough for two people. I have two large pieces of battered fish, ten very large pieces of scampi. This is accompanied with salad and two bread rolls. I can't eat mine; I leave half on the plate. Anna is also struggling.

When I look around, every plate being taken away by the waitress is empty. These people are so fucking greedy.

Having been in America a few weeks now, I have seen so many fat people.

"Sorry, fat bastards".

We have fat people in the UK but not on this scale. The price of this meal was less than $3, perhaps that's why people eat so much.

The evening is spent in a bar with Anna's friends. We are both tired from the long journey; we leave and go back to the house early.

Anna makes coffee and we chat. She lives here on her own, except when her son is on leave.

Her ex-husband was violent and hit her during their marriage. I ask her where he is now. she tells me he lives near.

I hope I'm not getting into problems here.

It's time for bed, I've realised that I will not be sleeping on the couch.

In the bedroom I watch Anna undress. She has a terrific figure; we are soon in bed making love.

I spend four fantastic days with Anna. She fed me with good Mexican food; we made love every minute of the day. I'm sad to leave her, but I have to get back to the west coast.

Today I'm boarding the bus to San Diego.

I give Anna a big hug and a passionate kiss on the lips. She's crying this makes me feel sad also. I enter the bus. I turn, I wave and blow her a kiss, she's still crying. This is something during this trip that I will not like, leaving people and places you have enjoyed.

I did keep in contact with Anna for a few years but then stopped. I'm not sure why.

The journey back to San Diego was pretty much a non-event, no drugs bust.

I have little time before my flight to Oahu, so San Francisco isn't possible. I've decided to take a couple of days in Vegas. I really didn't want to go to this place but I will give it a go.

I'm on my way to Vegas, sat by me is a black lady, maybe fifty years old. There seems to be a group of them, all women and pretty loud. The whole trip they are joking and making a noise.

I talk to the lady sat by me, she tells me they are from Alcoholics Anonymous and that she was once an alcoholic.

I'm not sure that Vegas would be the best place to visit.

The bus arrives in Vegas; my first reaction is the glitz of the place. It's still light, so I head off to find a room. The room is in the old part of Vegas.

Showered and changed, I go out to see the bright lights and there are a lot of them.

I see the blocks of gold at Binion's Casino, if real it's pretty impressive. I go into a few places for beer, I watch people playing the slots. This area is the older part; tomorrow I will walk up and see places like Caesar's Palace and The Mirage.

Today I walk up and find Treasure Island Hotel. Here they have a film set where they play out a pirate scene. There's water, a pirate galleon, loud explosions, fighting, and it's all free to watch.

Next I'm walking into Caesar's Palace. It's pretty incredible inside. Is this the same place where they hold the world boxing title bouts and top music artists? I think it is.

When you walk around this area, you see more modern buildings and big hotels, but I prefer the other side.

It was interesting to visit Vegas, two days was enough for me.

I arrive at the bus station in Los Angels. My flight leaves later in the evening so I have all day to waste.

I find a place to store my bag and go outside. First thing I notice is the security at this station. It's ringed with a ten foot high barbed wire fence. There's a security post at the entrance, it's manned by armed security guards.

"I had read that LA is a violent city".

I need some money. I ask where I can find ATM machines nearby. I am told I would have to go to downtown, the hotels there have them. The person points towards some very tall buildings in the distance. I just have to keep walking on the same road for fifteen minutes. I thank the man and leave the station.

As I walk along I notice there's very little traffic or people. It's getting light; it must be seven o'clock by now.

I'm now seeing signs of life. The closer the buildings become, the more people there are.

I see black people only. There's a man with a supermarket trolley containing his personal belongings. Looking at him, I think he sleeps on the street.

A woman approaches me; she asks me if I want company? She looks to have a drug problem, the arms are a mess. She must sell her body for a fix.

There are men sleeping on the pavement. The ones that are awake have some kind of alcoholic drink in their hands.

This is skid row. I'm not sure if this is a good place to be walking. I see no other people except these down and outs.

I finally reach the buildings of downtown. It's taken me forty five minutes to walk, not fifteen.

Someone directs me to a hotel with ATM's. I walk into the entrance to be greeted with a,

"good morning sir".

The place is very plush and expensive. I imagine with my attire, I would fit in better on skid row. In England, they would not want you in a hotel of this standard wearing dirty old shorts and tee shirt, here no problem.

I ask for the ATM's? I'm given the direction.

I leave with money in my pocket.

Outside I see a policeman, that's good. I need to ask him about going back the same route or should I take a taxi? He assures me that this time of the day it's fine but not at night.

Safely back at the station I board a bus to Hollywood; it's only a short distance.

I know very little about this place, but I am soon on its streets. My knowledge is the movies, the famous Chinese Theatre, the big sign on the hill and the pavement having imprints of feet or hands of the famous.

First I want some breakfast, this looks a good place.

"MacDonald's".

I sit outside and eat a burger and drink coffee. For forty five minutes I watch the big fat men, women and children, enter.

"Yes there are some incredibly fat kids here".

They leave with a huge bag of junk food.

For the American it's a way of life and it's now creeping into our society in UK. Perhaps one day we will all end up big fat bastards like these people.

Breakfast finished it's time to explore.

First thing I see is the big Hollywood sign on the hill. I think this must be one of the most famous landmarks in the world. It's nothing to do with the movie industry; it was a billboard for selling houses. I was going to try and get up there, but a long range photo will do for the album.

Next I find The Chinese Theatre, outside are the imprints. I find Roy Rogers, Trigger, and Lassie. I remember watching these when I was ten years old.

I find a circular building, it's Capital Records Tower. I find out that this building was erected in 1956. The circular shape represents a stack of vinyl records. I remember my sisters record collection contained Capital Records artists, like Nat King Cole, Duke Ellington to name but a few.

The day went quickly, I soon find myself back at the bus station. I collect my bag, jump into a taxi and it's off to the airport.

~~~~~

Chapter 8

_The Pacific_

Luggage checked in boarding pass issued, I wait for my Air New Zealand flight. This is an interesting ticket. The flight is from Los Angels to Auckland but you are allowed two stopovers. I've decided to stop in Oahu on the Hawaiian Islands and Fiji.

After a five hour flight, the plane touches down in Oahu. It's one thirty in the morning, I have no idea where I'm going to stay.

Once formalities are finished and my bag is collected, I find myself outside the terminal.

I'm approached by someone offering accommodation. I follow him to a minibus were I find more people. There are two guys called Billy and Steven, we discuss and get into the minibus. This guy is telling us he works at a backpackers, it's in central Honolulu, which sounds good.

As we are driven through the streets, I get acquainted with Billy and Steven. We were all on the same flight but I had not seen either of them.

Billy was born in Vietnam, he now lives in Australia. He's on the last leg of his world tour. His family had fled the war as boat people, something I always remember seeing on the television.

Steven is a Kiwi; he's been working in California for a few years. He's going back home for Christmas.

We're driving through one area and I notice lots of very beautiful women, not many men and it's now two in the morning. I think I will like this place.

A few minutes later we arrive at the hostel, from the outside it looks like a hotel. Once inside we go up to the second floor and we are shown to our room. It's a room with a balcony, bathroom, also a small kitchen area. There are bunk beds for eight people, it will be fine and we seem to be the only people here.

Time for some sleep.

Morning arrives, I slept very well. Billy and Steven are still sleeping. I notice another bag by my bunk, above is another body covered with sheets.

I go to the bathroom and take a shower. When I return to the bedroom the other body is awake, it's a girl. I give greetings and introduce myself. She tells me her name is Sophie, from New Zealand. She's a doctor, she looks so young. Sophie was visiting friends in LA, she's going back home for Christmas

I walk out onto the balcony; looking up the street I can see the ocean.

What a view.

I later find out this is Waikiki Beach.

Looking straight across I see lots of trees, looks like a park.

I need some coffee, let me see what I can find.

I walk out of the building, turning right. I walk towards the beach, it's two hundred metres away from the hostel. I look across at the beach watching the breakers coming ashore, this is a beautiful place. Following the pavement along the beach, there are lots of hotels, restaurants and bars.

I come across a statue of some Hawaiian man with a surf board. Looking at the style of the board and the swimwear he's wearing, it must be from the fifties. I must try to find out who he is, or was? he maybe dead.

Breakfast finished I go back to the hostel. I've started to notice there are a lot of people living in this building. It's not just a backpacking hostel.

Back in the room, I find Billy and Steven both chatting. Steven tells us that the World Surfing Championships are taking place at Sunset Beach in the north of the island, so that's his destination.

Not for me. I managed to find some tourist leaflets in one of the hotels.

One thing that does interest me is Pearl Harbour. I remember watching the old black and white movies. The leaflet tells me that it's open to the public and admission is free.

"Free is a golden word to the budget traveller".

Another interesting bit of information is the bus that travels around the island for a small fee. You can jump on and off when you want within a twenty four hour period. That's what I'm going to do today.

I find the terminal for the bus and I'm soon travelling around the Island. I've decided not to get off, just use it like a tour bus. It passes some good coast line to the north and some beautiful countryside, finally returning to Waikiki.

The evening arrives; Steven, Billy and I are going for some beers. Sophie tells me she's met up with fellow Kiwi girl from another lodge, so will not be joining us.

She then whispers in my ear,

"you are using Davidoff Cool Water, I can smell it, it's my favourite for a man ".

She's right, I am using it. Very observant girl.

We go out onto the streets; it's a pretty lively place. We tour several bars and drink a lot, it's a good evening.

We are walking back to the hostel and we come across a lot of very beautiful girls, they are like models. This must have been what we saw when we arrived in the early hours. The three of us walk by, tongues hanging out. One girl approaches, she's gorgeous, maybe late twenties, fantastic body. She asks if we want company.

"Surely she's not prostitutes?"

We later found out that these girls were prostitutes, they charge $300.

We get back to the room, lights are off. Maybe Sophie is sleeping. Quietly we open the door, yes she's sleeping and two more beds are occupied. We try not to make a noise and wake them, we undress in the dark.

"During this trip using dorm rooms, it surprises me how many ass holes will just come in, turn on the lights, disturbing the people sleeping. So fuck all of you ass holes that I met on this trip".

Time for sleep goodnight.

Morning arrives and I meet the two new arrivals, they are Scottish girls. They are ending their trip soon and flying back to the UK. Their names are Jane and Penny. They both work at the hospital in Edinburgh, Scotland. Penny is clerical and Jane is a physio. Jane is a pretty girl, Penny, well we can't all be perfect, but she is ugly.

Today I'm on the bus to Pearl Harbour. It's a beautiful day, blue sky and warm sunshine. I reach the entrance to Pearl Harbour; this place is a museum and memorial I think.

Once through the gate I notice how well kept and organised everything is. The water in the harbour looks a fantastic blue colour. I slowly make my way around the exhibits. There are gun placements, torpedoes, a small two man submarine, all very interesting.

Looking out into the harbour I see a covered platform. This is what I want to see next.

I go through some doors finding myself in a small room with seats, there are about eight of us. We get an introduction from a naval captain and then watch a short film. It tells of the events that happened with some good video footage shot live at the time. We are then taken to another set of doors on the opposite side of the room. They are opened to reveal the blue water of the harbour. With the sun shining very bright, we are taken down a short jetty, and board a small motor boat. We head towards the structure, once there we are taken onto the platform. It's then you start to realise how big this floating pontoon is. Now I'm able to see what I had come for.

"USS Arizona".

The ship was sunk and one thousand plus lives lost. The bodies of these people still remain inside. Lots of other ships were also sunk; they were re-floated and repaired to fight again. Because of the extensive damage to the USS Arizona, it was left. It's now a memorial to all who died on that day. As I walk the platform looking down into the water, you can see the ship very clearly. In some places it's only inches under the water.

We are returned to the jetty and I go to the exit. I'm soon going back to the city. On the bus I keep thinking about what that day must have been like.

I arrive back at the lodge to find another new face. This room is getting crowded, that's seven now.

It's another Kiwi.

"They are like dog shit, everywhere".

His name is Ben; he's also going home for Christmas. He tells me he's been travelling the USA.

Tonight a few beers and an early night, I don't think we have any ass holes in this room.

I'm woken by a lot of noise, the light is on.

What's going on?

I open my eyes and try to focus. Finally I can see the two Scottish girls, also Billy and Steven. They've had a good night. I'm soon out of bed, photo shoots in the corridor. I check the time; it's three in the morning, fuck I'm going back to bed.

I'd noticed from the balcony a hill shaped like a volcano. After a bit of research, people tell me that it's called Diamond Head. It's an extinct volcano and inside there are some buildings. This is where I will go today.

I walk the short distance from the hostel, finding the path that takes me up the side of the volcano.

When I reach the top I have superb views. You can look out into the Pacific, the surrounding countryside, the city and beach area. You can also look down into the grater. What would have been molten lava is now solid grass area with buildings.

I return down the path and go through the entrance to the grassed area. I think about what would have been here hundreds or thousands of years before.

I make my way down what is a single path to be met by a party of Japanese tourists. They stop to let me pass, bowing with hands together like they are praying.

Am I a king?

As I pass them they giggle like little children.

I get back to the hostel to find another new face, a young local girl who looks Japanese.

"There were many Chinese and Japanese brought to the island for work over the last century, they remained and made it their home".

She's not alone; she's with her boyfriend who is also of Japanese origin. They are going to share a bed together.

"Now we are nine".

This evening I'm going out with Billy, Steven, Penny and Jane for a few drinks. Billy leaves for Australia tomorrow morning; this will be his last night.

I wake to find Billy has already departed to the airport. Last night was a pretty heavy one. Steven and the girls are still sleeping. We drank a lot, so Billy must be feeling rough today for his flight.

"Now we are eight".

I'm going to the north of the island today. I read in one of the leaflets about a reserve, it's a natural forest which you can walk through.

I'm soon in the reserve, no fee, no park rangers, in fact no one else except me.

I make my way down the track; I'm in a very cool dark forest with many different types of trees.

I keep following the track, there's the sound of running water. I soon find the source, a small waterfall. The track is easy to follow, not overgrown, so it must be used regular.

I come to a forest of bamboo, there's a small path. I leave the main track and enter inside. I start following the path, going deeper into the bamboo. I notice the path is gone. I carry on pushing my way through the bamboo; most of it is about six inches in diameter.

The problem with bamboo is everything looks the same; you have no real sense of which way to go.

I now realise I'm lost. I carry on pushing my way through hoping that I'm going to find a path but nothing. I start to hear sounds,

is someone following me?

I keep on moving, it's dark in here. Every so often, a ray of light finds its way through the canopy of the forest.

Still I keep hearing the noises. I stop for a rest, I try to locate where the noise is coming from. I finally realise it's the bamboo rubbing together; there's a slight breeze which I hadn't noticed before. I start walking again, relieved to know what the noises are. I find a path; I hope this is going to get me out of here.

The path becomes clearer; I follow it until finally I'm back in the main forest. I soon find a track and carry on walking in what is a calm tranquil place.

I have no idea of how long I was lost in there. It seemed a very long time.

Back at the hostel I find the little Japanese girl alone. We talk and over the next few days become close friends. During one of our conversations, she gives me a four leaf clover she had found.

Will this give me good luck?

Steven hired a nice little convertible for two days; he's taking the Scottish girls out tonight. He asks if I'm coming. I've already decided on a quite night. Two beers in the nearest bar and I'm in bed.

It's a new day, the sky is blue and the sun is shining. Today Sophie and Ben have departed.

"Now we are six".

Steven is returning the car this evening, tomorrow he's leaving. With the girls, we are going to tour the island in a nice sporty convertible. This evening we will go out on what will be his last night with us.

The original group is now breaking up, which is a little sad.

Yesterday and last night we had a good time. Steven went to the airport early this morning.

"Now we are five".

Today the girls and I are going to relax on the beach. First I want some coffee, and then I want to go to another part of the town to check out another backpacker's hostel.

Penny, Jane and I head down to the beach, it's a beautiful day. We're lying on the golden sand of Waikiki Beach.

I keep looking at Jane in her swimwear, she looks gorgeous. She comes back from bathing in the surf. I just can't keep my eyes off her.

We are lying there when it starts to rain. The sun is still shining but the rain drops are cold when they hit the body. The shower only lasts for five minutes, very few people move off the beach.

Tonight Jane and I are going for a few beers. Penny is going to meet some guy from Germany; she will be with him tonight.

We sit in a lovely bar and chat all evening. I'm really starting to like this girl a lot. She tells me they are leaving the day after tomorrow to USA.

What a blow.

This morning my little Japanese friend departed with her boyfriend.

"Now we are three".

This is the same number when I arrived with Billy and Steven.

Today there's a cultural show in the city, so my first stop is the park. I get seated and watch beautiful Hawaiian girls dancing their traditional dance. Someone explains to me that the hand movement is very important in their dancing; it makes it different from other Pacific Islands.

Next I go to the centre outside one of the big hotels. Here a very muscular Hawaiian guy shows how to climb the palm tree with just his hands and feet. He goes up and back down like a monkey, incredibly fast. He then shows the craft of striping the outer skin of the coconut and breaking it open to drink the juice. Then he shows the crowd how to make coconut milk.

Tonight Penny, Jane and I drink a few beers, tomorrow they are leaving. The group will finally be no more.

The morning arrives, the girls are packed. We say our goodbye's with a kiss and a hug. The door closes behind them.

"Now I am one".

I get to Sunset Beach it's beautiful. The sand is soft, the breakers pretty big and the sun is starting to go down.

I get my camera and finally get a shot of the sun setting behind some palms.

"Is this paradise? I'm not sure but it must be close".

My time's arrived to leave the island. It's been a great stay, one I'm sure I will remember for a long time. The group of friends, will I see any of them again? I'm not sure, we all exchanged our contacts.

When I left the room there were nine of us again. Myself and another guy, and seven girls.

"Goodbye to paradise".

~~~~~

Chapter 9

" _Bula" Welcome to Fiji_

My next stage of this Air New Zealand ticket is Fiji.

I sat in the library in Honolulu and done some research about the island of Viti Levu. It seems to have two roads encircling the island; Queens Road being the main one, the airport is off this road. The capital is Suva but the commercial centre is Nadi. "Pronounced Nandi".

I've decided to head for Nadi when I arrive. To avoid the expense of a taxi I will try to walk from the terminal building to the road. Once there I will get local transport.

Will this work? I'm not sure.

The plane touches down at Nadi International Airport. I'm now getting accustomed to the formalities, I soon find myself walking out of the arrivals hall.

The first thing I notice is the heat, it seems very hot and it's only eight o'clock in the morning.

I look for the airport exit; I can see the main road. I start to walk in that direction; it can't be more than three hundred metres.

I come out of the entrance to the airport, the first thing I see is a road sign pointing to Nadi. This is too easy.

I see a bus shelters on both sides of the road, I need to cross and wait for a bus. Before I can do this a lorry pulls up. Out jumps a young Indian girl, as the lorry pulls away we greet each other.

She's a hairdresser; she's going to work in the town, so we will travel together.

We cross the road and sit in the bus shelter waiting for transport.

After a few minutes, an old American estate car pulls out of the airport. The girl waves and the driver stops. She goes to the car, after a brief chat with the driver she's calling me over. We both get in; we have free transport to the town, what a good girl.

The driver is a retired American citizen. He tells me he was working the big cranes on construction sites for forty years. He's now seventy years old and moved here four years ago. He's trying to start a haulage company.

He's a very interesting man; he gives me a lot of good information and an invite for a beer at lunchtime.

It's not long before we are in Nadi; it's not what I thought it would be. It's certainly not a modern town, very dusty, and filled with shops owned by Indians.

"The British brought Indian migrant workers to cut the sugar cane".

The girl wants me to come to her place of work and meet her friends.

Soon I'm sat in the salon with my new friend, and three other Indian girls. We chat; they ask me lots of questions. Am I married? how old am I? where am I from?, and many more.

During this period of time I've found my bed for the night. Abani,

"yes I did ask her name",

invites me to stay with her family. I will now have to occupy myself for the day here in the town; she will finish work this evening.

I walk around, every shop repeats its self, all run by Indians selling the same electrical and electronic goods.

The Fijians walk past me, they keep saying,

"Bula",

what the fuck does that mean?

"I later find out it's the greeting for hello".

Time passes quickly; I remember that I have to meet the old American man.

I ask a few people for directions to a bar that he had scribbled on a piece of paper. One person finally knows this place; they tell me which way to go.

On arrival I find him already sat drinking a cold beer. We talk for some two hours and down some cold beers, it was very interesting.

I still have a few hours to waste until Abani finishes work; I find a nice seat shaded by trees.

I sit for ten minutes, when I'm joined by another young Indian girl. We start to talk; her name is Judy, not the name I would've expected. She is twenty two years old. She's from one of the other islands and is just visiting.

We chat; she tells me that she's staying at a lodge. With the name written on a piece of paper, I tell her I will be there tomorrow.

It's time to go back to the salon and collect my bag and Abani. When I get there she's already finished so I follow her to a bus stop.

We are soon travelling Queens Road I think, but I'm not sure. I ask her, she tells me it is.

As we travel along I ask her a few questions. I find out that she's twenty five years of age, not married, and she has no children; she's a very pretty girl.

The bus has no windows, so the drive is very pleasant. We turn off the main road and follow a track; it gets smaller and bumpier the further we go. We are heading up into the hills, the scenery is beautiful. The bus crosses a small river and I see a waterfall.

The bus stops, she tells me this is where we get off.

We walk for ten, maybe fifteen minutes, finally arriving at her house. It's quite high up, the views are outstanding, you can see for miles and miles.

We go inside; I'm introduced to the family. Her father, sisters, nieces, nephews and a few others thrown in to make everything complete, not quite complete. They tell me the mother is ill, Abani's two brothers have taken her to the hospital.

The house is made from wood stud frame, with corrugated metal sheet for external and internal walls. The floor is just concrete, and the roof is also corrugated sheet.

Food is served; it tastes of good authentic Indian cuisine. The father tells me I must return for Christmas,

"they are Christians not Hindu",

they will kill a goat for me, I accept the offer.

The oil lamps have come out, there's no electricity, and it is dark now.

Abani asks me if I would like a shower. She takes me outside and puts me in a cubicle made of corrugated sheet like the house.

I get undressed, she shuts the door, it's pitch black. I hear a noise; it's too dark to see what it is. Suddenly and unexpectedly I'm hit with a blast of cold water, very fucking cold. I put my hand up following the line of the water until I can feel a hosepipe. I call to Abani, asking her to turn the water off, I've finished my shower.

Dressed, and back inside the house, Abani tells me I can have her room tonight; she will sleep with her siblings.

She leads me through the room where she will sleep and into her bedroom. Before she goes she says,

"I will be back when everyone is sleeping".

The room is pretty basic, just a double bed with mosquito net, a chest and a small table.

I'm soon in bed under the mosquito net. I lie on my back in the dark room. I hear the old man I think, he's snoring then farting. I'm never going to sleep with this noise.

Fuck.

Now I have two howling dogs outside, and someone snoring and farting inside.

Wait! I can hear a new noise, it gets louder and louder, it's raining.

The rain is now pounding down on the corrugated roof, the sound is deafening. I can't hear the farts and the snoring any more, but the dogs are still pissing me off.

I'm still on my back with this crescendo of noise when the mosquito net moves, this makes me jump.

I shine my torch to see Abani has lifted the net and jumped into the bed.

We start to kiss, quickly she removes her nightdress. Thankfully having my torch I can see her naked body, its curves look good. Her breasts are large for such a small stature. I soon forget the noises around me, we are making love.

After we've finished we lie holding each other.

She then says,

"will you marry me?"

fucking hell that's a bit quick.

I start to think I may have walked into a problem here. I tell her it's a good idea; we will talk more about it tomorrow.

We are still holding each other when there's a lot of banging at her window. There are the voices of some men.

She quickly jumps out of bed; she dresses and leaves the room. The rain has stopped. I can hear her voice outside but I don't understand the language.

The men are shouting they seem angry. I start to think that they may have heard us making love.

I hear running water, they're washing her. Now I hear smacks, they're beating her.

I quickly get out of the bed. I collect everything into my backpack; I prepare to run but where? It will be pitch black out there; I don't even know where I am.

The curtain to the room pulls back slowly, expecting the worst I prepare myself.

It's Abani.

She says,

"everything is fine, go back to sleep".

She goes back through the curtain, I return to the bed.

I did get a little sleep before morning came, but my mind was full of all sorts of crazy things.

The next morning, I notice one of her brothers is cleaning his shoes with water from the hosepipe, he then he bangs them on a stone. So what I thought was Abani being washed and beaten last night, was actually a pair of shoes.

I bid everyone farewell, I tell them I will see them Christmas. Abani and I walk down and get the bus to Nadi.

I find the bus that will take me to a stop near the lodge, which Judy had written on the piece of paper for me.

The bus is soon moving, within no time I'm being dropped off at my stop.

They tell me to just walk down this track and I will find it. After a walk of no more than five minutes, I find the lodge.

I go in, I find a reception desk. Looking after this is a Fijian girl called Vere. I'm shown a room which is a bed only, but it's fine.

There are a few people here. I get talking to a guy who with his girlfriend is cycling around the world; so far they have done USA.

I then see Judy; we sit and have a chat. I'm still not sure about her. She asks me which room I'm sleeping in? We walk down the corridor and I show her my room, She says,

"I will come later".

After my shower I'm sat on my bed when there's a knock at the door. I open the door to find Judy stood there. She comes into the room sits on my bed, we start to talk.

Soon we are kissing. I remove her top to reveal small but well formed breasts. Soon she's naked lying in front of me. Her body is a beautiful shape, but it should be, she's only twenty years old. I remove my clothes; we are soon caressing each other. She wraps her legs around me, I try to enter her, but she doesn't want.

This happened again, and again, over the days I was there.

"I still don't understand what this girl wants; she can't be a prostitute she didn't ask for money. Maybe she wants to make love, but is not yet sure if she's ready".

The evening is here, I've decided to have a few beers in the lodge.

There's a new face, a big fat Fijian girl called Losalini, very pleasant girl. We talk and I drink my beer until it's time for bed.

Vere told me yesterday about a beach near by; today I will go and try to find it.

After walking for thirty minutes and following Vere's directions, I'm on the sand. The beach is huge, with dark sand not golden yellow.

Walking along I see some lodges with typical thatched umbrellas for people to sit under and drink their cocktails, but they are empty.

I carry on walking and find a puffer fish; I think that's what it's called. It's the size of a football, OK maybe a little exaggerated. Its spikes look like very lethal weapons, and are poisonous I think.

I can see something in the distance, about five hundred metres away. I get closer and closer, I still can't see what it is. Finally I'm standing by the side of it.

"A dead dog".

Its tongue is hanging out, the eyes are open and they seem to be looking at me. It must have been in the water for some time.

It's like a fat lady's arse.

I move back because it looks like it's ready to explode, sending blood and guts all over me.

That reminds me of the Monty Python sketch, the fat man exploding in the restaurant.

Another evening another beer. I walk into the bar to see Losalini.

I order a beer, when she turns away I look at her arse, I think of the dog on the beach.

I think I must have been smiling, because she says,

"you have happy thoughts",

if only she new.

Tonight I will sleep early, tomorrow I fly to Rarotonga.

~~~~~

Chapter 10

Just Another Pacific Island

I'm flying Air New Zealand to Rarotonga. The pilot tells us we are starting our decent. I look out of the window; I see the blue ocean with small dots. As we get closer, the islands become more visible. You can see the reef, beaches, and the lush green vegetation.

I step onto the tarmac at Rarotonga International Airport. The terminal looks very small and it's thatched.

Around the boundary of the airport, I see trees with red and orange blossom.

I see there are people near the terminal and I can hear music. When we reach the entrance, we are greeted by a man playing what looks like a ukulele, and beautiful girls dancing.

This is very South Sea Islands, in fact it's like a second rate movie.

We enter the hall to find more beautiful women with garlands of flowers. They place them around everyone's necks.

I'm soon outside the terminal walking to the road. There's only one road around the island. There's a regular bus going clockwise and anti clockwise.

I didn't have to wait long before I'm boarding a bus. I have a piece of paper with the name of a lodge someone had given to me. I show the driver, I tell him this is where I want to get off.

After a journey of ten minutes the bus stops. The driver directs me to a track, he tells me to walk up the track for two hundred metres and I will see the lodge.

Just like the driver had directed me, I soon reach the lodge. I enter into a beautiful garden with fruit trees and flowers of many colours.

The garden is slightly elevated, so I can see the ocean.

The house looks like a family house, not that big. I go inside and I'm met by a lady.

She tells me she does have a room, which is fortunate, because there are only four bedrooms in total.

It's still early so I'm going to get on the bus and circumnavigate the island, like I had done in Oahu. The island is only 20 miles in circumference, so it shouldn't take long. It also follows the coast; there should be some nice scenery.

I'm sat back at the lodge talking to a guy called Kenneth, he's from Sweden.

He tells me tomorrow he's going to do a walk,

"would you like to join me?"

he says.

I accept the invitation.

This is going to be a tough walk, so early to bed tonight.

A breakfast of bread, coffee, and fresh fruit from the garden inside our stomachs, Kenneth and I start our hike.

We are soon into the forest following a partly hidden path; the terrain is quite difficult with lots of trip hazards.

It's a good idea to hike with someone, if you fell and broke a leg you could be here for days and days.

We are going up most of the time; sometimes we have to climb a few rocks. Then we will go down a little, then back up. The forest is quite thick, so the walk is tough. We find an opening and look into the valleys of the interior, cloaked with dense lush green vegetation. Through this vegetation protrude the needle peaks and ridges.

We carry on walking; we need to find a pipe. This is the marker for which direction we need to take. If we take the wrong route, we could be in trouble.

Finally Kenneth spots the pipe. There's a fork in the path, here we were told to go right.

The path still seems to be ascending; we get to another opening in the forest. Again I see the valleys covered in green vegetation, the peaks jutting through, and the ocean as a backdrop. It looks a formidable place; it would be very difficult to get out of, even though you would only be ten miles from the coast.

We start walking again, now we are descending.

I hear a noise, we find ourselves on the top of a waterfall. The drop is about the height of a three storey house.

We take a path to the side of the falls which winds down to the bottom.

The falls are dropping into a beautiful lagoon. To one side is a local girl in her swim wear, she's washing herself.

This is a photo shot for the album, it looks like an advert.

Evening arrives. I'm sat relaxing when Kenneth brings a book to me. It's open on a certain page, he tells me to read it.

I look at the front; it's the visitor's book.

I start to read the page; it's an entry by a German guy. He done the walk we completed earlier.

He took the wrong direction, he ended up in the interior and he spent twenty four hours there. He fell into a river; submerged in the water he saw a flash. He claims to have had an electric shock from an electric eel.

The way he had written it was very funny.

Today I've hired a bicycle. Kenneth told me about a lagoon to go and see.

After asking for directions from a few people, I find myself walking with my bicycle through the gardens of some hotel. I come out of the gardens onto a beach of white sand, like talcum powder. The water in the lagoon is turquoise blue.

Some four hundred metres away there's a line of trees, these give the lagoon protection. Beyond that I can see the breakers crashing over the reef.

I get into the water, it's crystal clear. I start to wade towards the trees; the deepest the water gets is waist high.

When I'm at the trees, I have a better view of the reef and the breakers crashing over.

I wade and swim back to the beach, looking down I see fish swimming around me.

I spend a few hours swimming and relaxing, there's no other person to be seen. I have my own private lagoon, this must be paradise.

I've decided to carry on cycling around the island rather than going directly back to the lodge. Tonight I will be dead.

I spend the next three days exploring the island, and visiting places. Rarotonga is defiantly paradise.

Today is Sunday; it's my last day on the island. Tomorrow I fly back to Nadi.

I was told that it's the cup final of the islands at rugby league today. I've decided to go and watch the game.

I sit on my seat, which is actually a concrete block in the stand.

This is one of the most beautiful places you could play any sport.

I look to one side, I see the mountain range and to the other side is the ocean. The third side is full of trees with coloured blossom of vivid reds, yellows and orange.

In the stand are some people with a big hollowed out log. They beat it to make a good rhythm.

The crowd is about five hundred plus, not that large.

There's an announcement over the PA system. I can't understand what's being broadcast.

An open top car drives into the stadium; it slowly makes its way around the perimeter of the pitch.

There's a big man standing in the back. He's waving to everyone; he must be someone of importance. The man sitting next to me tells me it's Mal Meninga. This name I do know, he played in England for some years.

The game gets under way; the drummers beat out their rhythm. When a player races towards the try line, the speed of the drum quickens.

The game was good entertainment. I've no idea who won; I just watched the people, and the scenery.

Tonight I'm going to have a few beers, then early to bed. I have a flight tomorrow.

~~~~~

Chapter 11

Christmas in Fiji

The strange thing about this flight is that you cross the international dateline. You can leave on a Friday, when you arrive at your destination three hours later, it's Thursday.

The flight arrives at Nadi International Airport; I'm back on Viti Levu. I walk to the road to get a bus.

I arrive at the lodge, Vere is on the reception. A quick chat and I have the same room again.

Christmas is only two days away, the place is empty. People are trying to get to Auckland to spend Christmas, me I'm staying here.

Tonight Losalini is working so I'm chatting to her. During our conversation, she asks me what I'm doing for Christmas. I tell her I'm staying at the lodge. She offers me Christmas with her in Suva.

Now I have two possibilities, an Indian girl that wants to marry me and a fat Fijian girl that will suffocate me. Spoilt for choices.

I wake up today to find I'm the only guest left. Tomorrow it's Christmas.

Vere is at the reception, I think she's bored with nothing to do.

I look at her, she's a pretty girl. Her hair is a mass of frizz, afro style. I notice she pushes her pen into it when she's not writing. I suppose this is the equivalent of us putting it behind the ear.

I'd read that Fijians are very hospitable and friendly people. I've certainly found them friendly, let me check the hospitable part.

I walk over to Vere; I ask her if I can stay at her house for Christmas? She looks at me and says,

"you want to stay at my village?"

That's even better.

"Yes".

She tells me she needs to make a call first.

Ten minutes pass by and she tells me that it's OK. Christmas in a Fijian village sounds good.

Vere finishes work; we are soon heading for Queens Road. I ask her if there's anything I can take as a gift? She tells me we can go and get something in Nadi.

Once there we go to the market, we purchase a root plant. I've no idea what it is, or what it's for.

Soon we are on a bus with no windows heading off the Queens Road on a bumpy old track.

"This is deja vu",

I've been here before, please not another arranged marriage.

Finally we reach the village. I'm introduced to Beni; he's married to Vere's sister.

This is the house I will be staying; it's just one big open space. Vere has given me her bed, she will sleep at a friends.

There's no electricity, just oil lamps. I'm unable to view much outside that will have to wait until tomorrow.

Beni is taking me to another building. I'm carrying the root I'd bought in Nadi.

We enter into a room, there are fifteen to twenty men sat on the floor.

I hope I'm not a sacrifice.

Beni tells me to give the root to a certain man who accepts it from me. He in turn passes it to a man sat in front of a large carved wooden bowl, two feet in diameter. I then sit on the floor with everyone else; we are seated in a circle.

The man with the root then proceeds to squeeze it through a cloth with the water he added, this leaves a liquid in the bowl.

The oil lamp is very dim, so things are not easy to see.

The man doing the preparation is holding what looks like half of a coconut shell.

There's now some chanting, like a prayer. The shell is offered to the gods I think and then it's filled up with this liquid.

The shell is passed to me; I notice that it's smooth and ebony in colour.

"I later learn that it's buried in the ground to make it like this".

There's a lot more chanting and clapping of hands.

Beni tells me to drink all of the liquid in one gulp, I manage this but it tastes shit.

The shell is passed back and refilled, then given to the next man.

I've notice that my mouth has gone dead, just like being at the dentist.

The shell goes complete circle and is back with me. I drink my second cup, and the ceremony continues.

I whisper to Beni,

"can finish here?"

he tells me I can.

This goes on until the bowl is empty. I notice some of the men look drunk. Tomorrow I will find out more about this ceremony and what I was drinking.

I wake up to find a girl sat on my bed. Her breasts are exposed, on one is a child taking its feed. She's Beni's young sister, she's staying with them for a few days.

I look over to the other bed, Beni is still sleeping. His wife is preparing breakfast. There are a couple of more bodies on the floor; I have no idea who they are.

"I later learn that the doors are never closed. Anyone from this community can be walking home, feeling tired they just come in and sleep on the floor of someone's house. They may only be one hundred metres from their own house".

Breakfast of bread, fresh fruit, and coffee is finished, now Beni wants to show me around.

We go outside, the first thing I notice is the houses are all corrugated sheet, no traditional bure.

They have a beautiful church which is in very good condition, except for the roof. It seems to have some of the sheets missing.

Beni says,

"they were blown away in the storms".

We walk along, we keep stopping and chatting. Beni is introducing me to everyone.

Next Beni points out a range of hills; he calls them the Sleeping Giant. He explains that the shape looks like a giant sleeping on his back, which I can now see.

We then come to a big hollowed out tree. It's used as the church bell, calling people to village meetings, and many other things.

Moving on we pass goats tethered to trees, pigs in small enclosures. Finally we come to a lot of people, they seem to be cooking.

Beni tells me they are cooking Christmas dinner.

Fuck, Christmas Day, I'd forgotten.

I spend the next hour watching and helping with the cooking. The oven is a hole in the ground; in the bottom of this hot stones are placed. Things are then wrapped in banana leaves, more stones put on top, and you have your oven. There is one for the meat, one for the vegetables.

I look around, they don't have modern luxuries like electricity, and ovens, but the place they are living and what they see must be worth a lot more.

Sitting in the house with Beni, I ask him about the drink last night. He tells me it's a tradition to welcome a guest with Kava or Yaqona, this was what the ceremony was for. The root is from a plant which is from the pepper family.

"During my stay, I would see this drink used by everyone, from elders to the teenagers, male and female. It would paralyse not only the mouth but the entire body. It's not alcoholic it's medicinal".

"So it's a fucking drug that you can get high on",

I hear the sound of the village drum, the hollowed out tree being hit. Beni takes me over to the main hall; we were here earlier in the day. We enter to find the food that was being cooked was now placed on a long grass mat on the floor. This was the banqueting table without legs.

I was given a place to sit, and after a quick prayer we start to eat.

There was chicken, fish, meat, and all sorts of vegetables, root and greens. Also fresh fruit, like papaya, and pineapple.

I was told there would be another sitting after us for the rest of the village; I'm a guest so we are first. I count, there's thirty plus people here.

After a fantastic dinner, we go back to the house to relax. Beni tells me there's something happening tonight.

The evening arrives; Beni gives me a piece of clothing to put on. I look at it and it's a dress,

"official term is Sulla".

I've seen the men wearing them here. They usually have bright patterns and colours, but this one is grey like a suit for a wedding,

they've not got a wife ready for me I hope.

We walk across to the main hall; I think the whole village is here.

Vere, who I hadn't seen since she brought me here, quickly grabs me. She takes me outside; she's joined by two more ladies. They put a garland of flowers around my neck, which I'd seen some of the girls making this morning. Vere picks a flower from a tree, she puts behind my ear, now I'm complete.

We do a quick photo call, and return inside. Everyone starts clapping, a few words are said, which I don't understand.

Vere tells me they are thanking me for dressing in their traditional way.

As the night progresses the ladies dance, the men just sit drinking their Kava.

Every lady wants to dance with me; I think this is because I'm the only one they can drag to the floor. The whole night I'm like a whores draws, up and down.

I notice the women have their own bowl of Kava; they don't sit with the men drinking.

I've been given a bottle of gin to drink; they know I don't like the Kava.

It's now dark; the hall is lit with oil lamps. The music from a ghetto blaster is turned off.

Vere and a few other ladies are seated with some papers. Everyone starts to go to them, they are giving money.

I call Beni to ask what this was for, he says,

"we are collecting to repair the church roof".

I tell him I want to donate also, he tells me I don't have to give, but I insist.

I walk over to Vere giving her the equivalent of £5; I walk back and sit on the floor.

Vere says something again which I don't understand. Everyone starts clapping; they come over to shake my hand.

I'm told by Beni that I've made them happy with my donation. These people are giving me a bed, and feeding me for fucks sake.

The music starts again, the ladies dance, the men carry on drinking the Kava.

Slowly people start to leave, including Beni and myself. It's time for some sleep.

I wake up to another new day. Beni and his wife are on the bed sleeping.

His sister is again sat on my bed with no top. The baby is sleeping so her breasts are in full view, they look very nice.

I look at the floor, there are bodies everywhere. I do a headcount; there are nine people, men, and women.

Slowly people start to stir, they leave one by one.

Today Beni is going to take me to an area near the Sleeping Giant.

Breakfast finish, we start our walk. After about thirty to forty minutes walking through very green countryside, we reach our destination.

He wants me to see the hot water springs. There's a small but constant flow of water, it's boiling, too hot to bathe in.

I look up at the hills and the surrounding area. It's full of trees; colour is everywhere, no noise, so peaceful.

On the way back Beni meets one of his friends, he has a nasty cut above the right eye, which needs stitches. When we are walking away from him, Beni tells me he was drunk, and fighting. He was hit with an iron bar. These guys are big people, they are friendly when they drink their Kava, but when it's spirits, it's a different matter.

Back at the house Vere is sat talking to her sister. She tells me she wants me to meet someone.

We walk to the edge of the village. From here I can see a white building; by the side is a thatched bure. Vere tells me this is the police station.

We walk across and sit in the thatched bure. It's incredibly cool inside compared to outside.

We are joined by a young man, Vere does the introductions he is called Josefa. He's twenty seven years old and he's a policeman. Josefa is wearing a brilliant white sulla and blue shirt with ID numbers on the shoulders, this is his uniform.

We talk for one hour, Josefa invites me back tomorrow for some food at noon.

Vere walks me back to Beni's house, she then tells me she's going to work.

Evening time and I'm sat in Beni's house. People come and go, there's always a bowl of Kava.

We sit and talk until bedtime; this is a normal evening for these people, no electricity, and no television. I meet everyone this way, some will fall asleep, and everyone else will keep on talking.

In the village there are three policemen, not just Josefa. They all come to the house, chat, and drink Kava.

I wake up to a very warm day, the sun is shining bright.

I spend the morning just wandering around the village taking photographs. I take time to chat to people, they're so friendly.

The morning passes quickly; I'm soon walking over to the police station to have lunch with Josefa.

When I arrive Josefa is there in his uniform, he tells me he's on duty today.

We go into the thatched bure were there's a table and chairs. Josefa tells me to take a seat; he will be back in a few minutes.

True to his word he comes back carrying two plates. He's cooked a meal of rice, with vegetables and meat, it looks delicious.

We start eating; it tastes as good as it looks. There's the flavour of coconut, and the little meat balls are really tasty.

After we've finished I ask him where the meat was from.

"That's not meat; you have eaten congealed goats blood, which is fried".

Thank god he didn't tell me that before I started eating.

In the afternoon the men are going to play football, I've been invited to join them.

They forget this is football; they kick lumps out of me. They should stick to rugby.

After the football I go to the hall with Vere. All of the young people are in there singing. They make rhythm with pieces of wood, it's a beautiful sound.

The evening is spent talking, sometimes sing, these people do like to sing.

I'm told that there's a bus they've hired to take everyone to the beach tomorrow. It will cost the equivalent of £2,

"was that OK with me?"

definitely.

The morning arrives, so does the bus. Slowly everyone gets on.

I notice Beni is there with his son, but not his wife. I enquire why she's not with him.

He tells me she will stay behind, they don't have enough money. I tell him to go and collect her, I will pay her fare.

After a little organizing the charabanc is on its way.

We are soon parked up; everybody is heading down to the beach.

These guys are having a great time, they're like children. The men are fighting each other in a friendly way. They gang up on one person, carrying him or her to the waters edge. They then launch the person into the ocean like a torpedo.

Some people are sitting eating their food, others are playing football. This is turning out to be a good fun day.

There are three guys who are not with our party; they invite me over for a chat. I notice they're drinking spirits.

The one tells me he was a Fijian international rugby player. I'm not sure if this is true.

Talking to them is difficult because they are starting to sound a little drunk. I notice out of the corner of my eye, Beni is keeping watch over me.

After more chat, they ask me for some money for more drink. I tell them I don't have any money with me. I tell them I need to go and return to my friends.

I'm very relaxed when from no where I'm lifted into the air and heading for the water. I'm airborne before hitting the water and going under,

bastards got me.

There's a man and his wife, I start talking to them. He tells me he's from British Colombia, and he's on holiday.

He's retired and spends some of his retirement in the Pacific.

He also has an apartment in Oahu. Now it's spoilt because some people have hired some of the rooms, they are using it like a backpackers, the people are very noisy. When he told me where the apartment block was, I didn't have the heart to tell him I was one of those rowdy people.

Everyone loaded back onto the bus; we start to head back to the village.

We move five hundred metres and the bus comes to a halt. Josefa the policeman is carried out by the others. He's soon being dispatched into the surf.

Beni tells me he avoided capture all day so he didn't get his feet wet. Once on board he didn't have anywhere to go.

"He could have gone through the window, perhaps it was the element of surprise, or a moving bus that stopped him".

Tomorrow I have my flight to New Zealand, so tonight is my last night, I think it will be a sad one. Today I need to do something. I notice these people like playing volleyball but the ball they are using is no good. I decide to go to Nadi, and see what I can find.

After walking around looking for a ball, I'm finally successful. I take the journey back to the village; I'm soon sat in Beni's house.

Beni is sat there talking to his wife. When I show him my offering he's so happy. He jumps up and leaves the house.

Where is he going?

I hear the drum being beaten, within no time lots of people are entering into his house.

Beni returns and I'm invited to give the gift to one of the elders of the village. They're over the moon.

Shit this is small compared to what they have given me.

Within fifteen minutes the net is up, everyone is playing. I'm invited but I'm pretty useless compared to these guys.

The evening arrives; everyone is squeezed into Beni's house.

Centre stage is the obligatory Kava bowl. With the ceremony under way, the coconut shell is passed around.

A late arrival is Josefa. He produces a bottle of vodka, knowing that I don't like the Kava.

Josefa, another policeman, and I, drink the bottle between us. They have no idea about this stuff, we are drinking it neat. The glass sizes are large so it's finished in ten minutes.

I had one more surprise for Beni. All of the photos I had taken were developed in Nadi. When I give them to him he is very happy.

Soon they are being passed around. People are seeing themselves and their friends in sometimes funny positions.

There's one of Beni sleeping, which gets a big laugh. Also one of the elders had fallen asleep; his sulla was open showing his underwear.

The night is a good, soon people start to leave. Some just collapsed where they are.

Today I have to leave. I'm very sad to be saying goodbye to these people who adopted me for a short time.

I go outside to find there's a lot of water, we've had a tropical downpour.

I go around the corner to find people are playing volleyball in a mud bath. They are sliding and falling into the mud, they tell me to join them. I'm clean and ready to go to the airport, I decline their offer.

Soon it's time for me to take my leave. I say goodbye to everyone, I'm soon in a car heading out of the village.

Accompanying me is Vere, Beni, and Josefa.

At the airport I check in, getting rid of my bag. This gives me a little more time to chat with the three of them.

The time comes; I have to leave them all. I start walking into the departure lounge, I turn just once to wave and then I keep going.

I hate this leaving business.

~~~~~

Chapter 12

_The Land of the Kiwi_

I fly into Auckland International Airport; it's a quaint little airport. I thought it would have been larger.

I have Rod and Toni meeting me. They were part of the group I met in France, David's friends. I contacted them while I was in Fiji, true to their word they will be there.

I walk through the exit into the main hall; I'm surprise to see Samantha, still with her blonde bob cut.

She tells me that Rod and Toni need to do something with their son. They've asked her to look after me; they will catch up with me in a week or two.

Soon we are in Sam's car driving back to her house. Driving through Auckland I notice how small it is for a capital city.

Sam pulls up outside a walled garden, she tells me this is where she lives.

We go through a wooden gate into a well kept garden, following a path to the house. Once inside the house I'm introduced to Sam's mum, a very sprightly lady called Alice.

Sam takes me to the back garden; it's mostly a terrace of wooden decking. The view is terrific; we look straight down into Auckland Harbour.

This is going to be a nice place to relax.

Sam spends the rest of the day showing me around the city and meeting her friends.

The evening arrives; we are sat on the decking looking at the lights of the harbour. In my hand I have a glass of good whiskey.

"After my travels across the USA and the Pacific, this is luxury".

Sam tells me that her daughter is getting married tomorrow, so I can only stay for one night, but she's organized something for me tomorrow.

She also tells me her neighbour is away, I can use his house to sleep in tonight.

His decking is a continuation of Sam's, just separated by a six foot wall. We walk into the shrubbery around the wall and onto his decking. Sam slides the patio door open, she shows me the bedroom I will be sleeping in.

We return to find Alice busy laying the table with good home cooked food. The three of us enjoy good food, wine and conversation.

During our chat Alice explains to me that she lives near Wellington. She tells me if I go to Wellington, I can stay with her.

The evening is warm and dry. Looking up at the stars glittering in the clear sky, I notice for the first time that The Plough constellation is upside down.

Alice went to bed one hour ago; Sam and me have been supping the wine and having a good chat. She's a nice lady and very attractive. During our conversation she told me about her life which was interesting.

The wine bottle is empty, Sam asks me to go into the kitchen and fetch more.

I return to the table with another bottle, we carry on drinking. I start to notice Sam is getting a little tipsy. She keeps laughing at silly little things, which then kicks me into a bout of laughter.

Perhaps I'm getting pissed too.

The evening is now late, we both want some sleep. Leaving the table carrying the glasses and wine bottle, we both head to the kitchen door.

Shit it's locked. When I came out with the wine I shut it behind me, now we can't get in.

This gives Sam the excuse to go into one of her laughing modes again. I ask her if she can call her mother, which she doesn't want to do. I suppose the lady will be in a deep sleep by now.

I ask Sam to show me where her bedroom window is? The gods are on my side, the small window is open.

I'm sure we can squeeze through here.

When I try to open it fully I find some type of burglar device.

Fuck it.

Every time we hit a snag it prompts this woman to fucking laugh.

I need a screwdriver; Sam takes me to a small store. Luck is on my side again, the door isn't locked and I find a screwdriver.

After a little time I manage to remove the burglar device, not much of a deterrent.

With the aid of a small set of steps from the store, I soon have Sam head first through the window, but she's stuck at her hips.

Seeing her hanging there laughing just puts me into a fit of hysterics.

If I can get her through she will fall straight onto her bed. The window sill is sticking out; I hope her head misses that.

I keep pushing; finally she drops down onto her bed with no injuries.

I look at her lying there, arms and legs spread, just laughing. Fuck I'm going to bed.

I'm woken by something cold on my stomach. It's Sam and she's smothered me in cream.

The room is lit with the moonlight; I can see she's naked. She starts to lick the cream, at the same time removing my boxers.

More cream is squirted on my cock. Sam is licking it off, until finally I'm been given a blow job.

We make some good love, when we have finished I lie looking at her tidy body.

I think to myself,

why the fuck did we do all the effort with the window for?

It's a nice morning; Sam is taking me to the bus station. The plan is I go to stay with Sheila, another one of the gang from the French connection. Sam puts me on a bus to New Plymouth, with a big hug I say goodbye to her, but not for good.

Travelling along I start to see the beauty of this country. It's very green with steep hills, a little like Wales.

There's sheep everywhere and lots of the Silver Fern, which I remember seeing on the All Blacks jersey.

The bus pulls into New Plymouth bus station, there's Sheila waiting for me.

After giving each other a big hug, she says to me,

"would you mind spending New Year on the beach?"

Fuck, I forgot it was New Year.

After what seems a short drive, I'm sat with her friends drinking beer.

I'm told they as a group have been doing this for the last twenty years, it's well organised.

They've built a permanent stone barbecue plus worktop, like a small kitchen.

There's a few caravans parked, and the remains of last nights camp fire.

With introductions complete, Sheila takes me down to the beach. We walk along the sand, the surf is quite wild and the beach is massive, it just goes on into the distance.

I notice lots of jellyfish, she tells me they have a sting so try to avoid. The sun is starting to set; we head back to the camp site.

The night is a good one, lots of food and drink sat around a big fire with some good conversation. These people are all intellectuals.

Sheila asks me if I want to sleep. I tell her yes I'm tired. She asks me if I mind sleeping in a tent with her and her friends, Leonard and Mary. I tell her no problem.

Leonard is staying with the others for a few more beers. Mary, Sheila and I start walking down to where they have erected the tent.

When we get there I go inside with Sheila. There's a blow up bed which belongs to Leonard and Mary. There are some sleeping bags for Sheila and myself.

We will be sleeping side by side,

hope I don't snore or fart.

Sheila pulls off her top to reveal a beautiful pair of breast. She's forty plus with one child, another cosmetic job?

I turn around to see Mary is absolutely stark naked, this takes me by surprise. I've never met this woman before, yet she just strips naked in front of me.

I'm lying on my back, on my left side I have a naked woman, on my right, a part naked woman.

I keep looking at Sheila lying by my side. Her breasts are solid, the nipples protrude like fingers. I really would like to touch them, or go back to my childhood instinct and suckle on them.

Eventually I manage to fall asleep.

Morning arrives and I'm woken by a noise in the tent.

It sounds like Leonard and Mary are fucking.

Please, not by the side of me.

Still on my back I slowly open my eyes. The light is very bright, the door is open.

I start to focus; I see a figure stood in the doorway. It's Mary; she's still naked, tits and pussy for all to see.

"Good morning Seb",

"Good morning Mary".

The noise is still there.

I turn to my left and see Leonard blowing up the bed; it seems to have gone down during the night. Thank god for that.

I turn to my right; I see Sheila's lovely breasts pointing to the ceiling of the tent.

After a good breakfast, Sheila takes me to the beach.

Walking along I see lots of dead coral washed up, I decided to take a few small pieces as a keepsake. The jellyfish are still in abundance, spread across the sand.

Sheila shouts,

"come on we're going for a swim".

She peels off her tee shirt to reveal those beautiful breasts. We both run into the surf and play.

Watching her jump out of the water gives me a lot of good feelings. The more I see this woman, the more I want her. Her skin has a nice tan, and the body is terrific.

We come out of the surf, I watch her run around half naked, she does look good.

I spend a few more nights sleeping with two naked women, and drinking and eating good food. What a life.

Today we leave the beach; Sheila is taking me to her house for a few days.

We arrive into a little bit of suburbia, a very pretty estate with very quaint houses.

Sheila pulls into her drive and I see her house. It's small with timber cladding and a corrugated roof. The garden to the front is very colourful. We climb a few steps and enter inside. The layout of the place is very well designed. Just looking at the contents give you the feel that it belongs to a school teacher.

Her daughter is away visiting Sheila's ex-husband, so I can sleep in the girl's bedroom.

She takes me into the kitchen and through the back door. This leads onto some well designed and well made decking.

The back garden is almost a mini cliff covered in some vivid blue flowers, it looks fantastic.

I take a seat on the decking. Sheila disappears back into the house, quickly returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Sipping the wine, she tells me what she's organised for me. We will stay at the house for a few days, and then go to one of her friends in Rotorua.

After a lazy day the evening is upon us. We sit on the decking drinking good wine and eating a wonderful meal she's prepared.

We talk; we find we have a good few things in common. The topic of David and Carla in France cropped up a few times, which make us both laugh a lot.

Midnight arrives, we decide to go to bed but not the way I expected.

We climb the stairs; at the top she holds my hand, guiding me into her bedroom.

I watch her strip naked, no bikini bottom this time, she looks terrific. We're in bed; the love making is slow and passionate. She's a very experienced lover.

Today we will visit a few of Sheila's friends. Driving through New Plymouth, I see Mount Egmont making a great back drop to the town.

We reach our first destination; it's my favourite naked lady, Mary.

There's no knock at the door we just walk in and there she is,

"The Naked Lady",

no she's dressed.

First thing I notice is the artwork everywhere, and the untidiness of the place. Mary is an artist, so that explains a few things.

Leonard is not here, he's at work. He's the editor of a newspaper.

The more you talk to Mary, the more you like this lady. She acts young, and is still living out her university days, pot and all.

After a good chat and the obligatory couple of glasses of New Zealand Red, we are off to the next stop.

During our mini tour, the police stop Sheila for speeding. After a little lecture she's given a warning.

Mini tour finished, we are driving back to her house in the dark when there's a flash. I ask her what it is; she tells me a speed camera. Twice in one day.

Back at Sheila's house we eat a snack, have a few drinks. We then go to bed for another passionate night.

~~~~~

Chapter 13

_Sheep Farm to Bungy Jumping_

Today Sheila is taking me to her friends in Rotorua. They have a sheep farm, so it should be interesting.

After a three hour drive through some great countryside, we finally arrive at the farm.

Coming out to greet us is the whole family. I'm introduced to Malcolm, his wife Angela and their two teenage daughters, Rose and Margaret.

We enter into the house, we are shown to a room Sheila and I will share.

Seated back in the lounge we talk. Malcolm tells me before evening meal he checks out the farm every night; he asks if I would like to go with him?

We are soon in his four wheel drive pick up, racing through the fields. It's a very big farm.

He starts to climb some of the hills which are very high. At times the truck is leaning so much I think it's going to roll.

Finally we get to the top of one hill, the views are outstanding. He points out in the distance his boundaries, this farm is very big.

Driving back to the house, he asks,

"can you ride a motorbike?"

"yes, but I haven't rode for a long time",

I reply.

The evening passes by with all of us eating good home cooked food and New Zealand Red.

The conversation is good but I cannot help but notice his youngest daughter Margaret. She is fourteen and well developed and is getting a little to friendly with me.

Later talking to Sheila I explain this to her. She tells me to stick by her side, not to be alone. I need to be careful with this girl.

Today we visit the town of Rotorua. It's a quaint place with a beautiful old colonial building which wouldn't look out of place in England.

This area is full of hot springs which are tapped and used as a clean energy source.

Next stop is a park with hot springs. Blow holes send water several metres into the air, and there's the stinking smell of sulphur.

There are several Maori buildings. There are lots of things to read about the history of the area and the people that lived here. It's late afternoon so we start to drive back to the farm.

We reach the farm; the women start to prepare some food.

Malcolm returns from outside and says,

"Seb lets go and check the farm".

I walk out into the parking area and see two motorbikes which Malcolm tells me we are going to use.

One looks very large; I hope it's not mine.

We reach the bikes, they are like motocross bikes but here they call them farm bikes.

The larger bike is a 500cc; Malcolm tells me that's mine.

Fuck I'm shitting myself; I haven't been on a bike for twenty years.

I tell Malcolm I need a little practise first.

"My motorbike days were on British machines, the controls were on the opposite side to this Japanese crap".

After a few attempts with the kick start, the machine jumps into life with a mighty roar. I'm soon riding around the parking area.

Five minutes of practise and I'm following Malcolm across the fields.

It all seems so easy, the speed increases, faster and faster, until I hit a hump and take off.

"Shit that frightened me".

I was over confident, but that little flying lesson brings me back down to earth.

Malcolm stops, I pull up by his side. He turns to me and tells me we are going to the top of the hill we are parked by.

"I look up, is he joking?"

There's a path that the sheep have made, its about three tyre widths across. He tells me we will follow this, but try to avoid the cones from the pine trees.

We start our climb, me following him. After a short distance he hits the first cone but stays on the bike. His back wheel is pushed towards the edge of the track but he manages to right it.

If you fall to the right, you will be against the side of the hill. If you fall to the left, you will be rolling down a very steep incline with a 500cc motorbike chasing you.

Finally we reach the top, my heart can slowdown a little.

The views are fantastic but soon we are moving again.

We get to the edge of the hill. Malcolm tells me we will go down this way, the path is too dangerous.

Fucking hell, this is like a sheer drop and this is not dangerous.

Before I can talk to him he's gone.

I sit at the top just looking down, I can't do this.

Finally I realise I have no other alternative; I close my eyes and go.

I did make it to the bottom but I wouldn't do it again.

Today we are at Lake Taupo to have a swim; first we all want to go on one of the speed boats.

Safely strapped into our seats the engine starts, we are soon moving across the lake at some speed.

The man controlling the boat then starts to do various manoeuvres. He turns the boat around three hundred and sixty degrees, in the process getting everybody wet.

After an exhilarating ride we are back on land heading for the beach.

Once there, everyone gets changed. We are soon all in the water enjoying ourselves.

Margaret's very interested in playing with me. Looking at her in her bikini, she does have the body of a woman, and she wants to keep it pressed against me. She also attempts to remove my shorts underwater.

This girl is dangerous.

On the way back to the farm, we stop off at a point on the Waikato river where they do bungy jumping. We watch these crazy people jumping from a man made platform above the river, way above the river.

Rose and Margaret bait me, they tell me I have to jump. I tell them I will do it tomorrow.

Tonight I don't go out to look at the farm; I let Malcolm do it alone.

Tomorrow there's a group of shearers coming to shear his sheep.

After food everyone wants to have an early night, tomorrow Sheila and myself leave for New Plymouth.

Breakfast finished, Sheila and I head to the shearing barn to find Malcolm. He went out very early this morning to oversee the shearers.

A short walk and we reach the barn; Malcolm is there to greet us.

Work is already taking place. I find it interesting watching these guys; the sheep's coat is removed with expert precision.

The work stops, we are introduced to the men and one woman, who are all Maori. They look a very tough bunch of people; the woman is sporting a black eye.

They tell us they freelance around the country. They work hard and play hard, this I can well believe. We say goodbye to Malcolm and head back to the house.

Angela and the two girls are waiting for us. They are coming to watch me do my bungy jump, now I can't get out of it.

We arrive at the car park where the jumping takes place. I quickly go in and get my ticket. Sheila, Angela and the girls go to a viewing area.

I go through the gate; I present my ticket and sit on a bench awaiting my fate.

There's one other person sat waiting and one just about to jump. Within five minutes I'm having the strapping put around my ankles.

Fuck it's just Velcro, no buckles.

My turn has come. I get off the bench and shuffle over to the platform. The guy in charge attaches the giant elastic band to the strapping. He asks me if I want to go in the water. We have a bit of travelling to do so I decline the offer.

I shuffle my way to the edge of the platform.

For the first time I can see how far down it is, the rescue boat looks so small.

This is getting serious, until now I was having no doubts, now I'm fucking frightened.

Half of my feet are over the edge, there's a loop of the elastic band hanging which is very heavy. It feels like it's pulling me over.

There is a quick photo call, I hear the words,

"bungy one, two, three".

I feel a helping hand shoving me off the platform.

I go head first, the water quickly coming towards me. My eyes run, then I feel a sudden jerk, I'm heading back up again.

I start to fall again, this time with no tension on the elastic band. I'm free falling, this is a horrible sensation.

Finally the tension is taken up again; I spend sometime just bouncing up and down.

Slowly I'm lowered into the waiting boat and taken back.

Shit I made it.

Back on terra firma I go to the office and collect my photos, they look pretty good. I meet up with everyone, after a few congratulations we say goodbye.

On the drive back to New Plymouth we make a few stops in some beautiful countryside,

this country is fantastic.

It's a new day; I'm off on the bus to Windy Wellington. When I arrive I find out why it's called that, it's quite windy.

I spend the next few days finding my way around the city. I notice a lot of the buildings have murals painted on them. This gives the place a good feel.

I also meet up with Alice, Sam's mother. I stay at her house for a few days.

She's eighty years of age and drives an old Morris Minor split screen. She drives me around the city and surrounding area. She turns out to be a very competent driver.

Before I leave for Auckland, I decide to take the boat across the Cook Strait to Picton, on the South Island. I've been told it takes three hours.

The ferry leaves Wellington, the water is very calm. It passes an island; someone tells me it's for quarantine purposes.

The water starts to get a little choppy, then the small ferry is really being thrown about, people are being sick.

I'm told by another passenger that this is normal.

When we get to the other side the water is calm again.

We enter into the Marlborough Sounds which is so tranquil and beautiful.

Finally we dock in Picton. It reminds me of a Cornish fishing village.

This is where I try my first fish and chips,

"the Kiwi's told me they were the best",

compared to the shit we get in England, I understand what they mean.

I've arrived back in Auckland; I'm met by my old school friend Rob and his wife Jane.

We went through school together, from primary to senior, then through our teens to twenties drinking.

It was in a bar one night that he told me he and Jane were going to settle in New Zealand.

Here we are back together after; I'm not sure how long.

I spend a few days with them which I enjoyed a lot.

Now I've finally met up with Doctor Rod and Toni. I spend a few days with them.

One day they take me off into the countryside, they want to invest in some land for their sons.

We notice a plane is doing some crop spraying, Rod drives up some steep rutted track to find the runway. We get to the top of the track finding a lorry full with bags of chemicals. We wander over and talk to a man who is doing the crop spraying.

I notice the flat area is much too small to land a small aircraft, and it drops away very sharply.

I hear the noise of the plane but can't see it.

Looking down the slope, the plane appears at the end of the incline, which must drop off. It lands on the slope, reaching the flat area where we are standing. We quickly move to one side as the plane is turned very sharply by the pilot until it's facing back down the slope.

Chemicals loaded the aircraft accelerates down the slope, it then drops off the end and disappears. Within a few moments it reappears and goes off into the distance.

We watch this procedure a few times; it is done with great timing and skill by the pilot.

Having such a short runway, the slope and drop off makes it enough for take off. When landing, going up the hill slows the plane down enough, very clever.

My time with Rod and Toni is over; they're going sailing for six days. They've invited me but I declined their offer.

"I think six days on a yacht would be too much for me".

I spent my remaining days in the Bay of Islands where there's some beautiful scenery, but everywhere in New Zealand is beautiful.

Visiting here will leave me with some good memories of the people and the country. I think it's like England of fifty years ago.

~~~~~

Chapter 14

_United States of Australia_

I fly into Melbourne International Airport; here I am in the land of OZ. My first stop is the Youth Hostel which is a pretty impressive place. The building is centrally located, there are great views from the rooftop and there's also a swimming pool up here.
I'm shown a room with two bunk beds; I seem to be the only person in the room.

The men and women have separate dorms. No mixing is allowed, if you are caught you will be asked to leave. This seems strange after travelling down through the Pacific and New Zealand were sharing was the norm.

I wander out into the city, first thing I notice is the tram system running through the city. The architecture is very good, modern and old mixed up together. This mix makes for some interesting photographs.

I return to the hostel, when I get to my room I find a new arrival.

His name is Dipendra; he's of Indian origin but lives and works in Sydney. He tells me he's a lecturer in economics at the university there. After a brief chat I head to the restaurant to grab a coffee and a bite to eat.

Sat drinking my coffee, I start to notice how many people are here from all over the globe.

Sitting at my table is another guy, his name is Jim and he's from Portland, Oregon. He tells me he's an ex-marine.

When you look at him with his head shaved on the sides and back with hair on the top, it reminds me of those photos of the new recruit fresh out of the military academy.

He also tells me he's travelling alone, he's just doing Australia. I ask him if he wants to go and have a few beers lunchtime. He says,

"that would be great",

with his American accent.

The morning soon goes by. Jim and I have found a nice locals bar, not far from the hostel.

I notice the walls are covered in photos of Aussie Rules Football team Collingwood. I've watched this game on the television back in England. I would really like to see a live game.

I get talking to a local, he tells me there's a pre-season friendly tonight but it's away. What a shame, I just want to sit on the roof tonight and relax.

The evening arrives; I'm sat on the roof having a beer with Jim. It's a little cool but not cold. The view across the city at night is more impressive than this morning. The tall buildings lit up from various sources.

Different people stop have a short chat then move on, all in all a very friendly atmosphere.

One of the people to stop and chat is a German girl called Anke.

"Not the prettiest face but one good body".

After introductions, she tells me she's an air hostess working for Lufthansa. She's touring Australia for six weeks.

Jim moves off on the prowl well I carry on the conversation with this girl.

She's going to Adelaide then onto Sydney, so we should be there at the same time. She asks me if we can meet when we are there. I tell her that would be no problem.

The night comes to an end, we both walk down the corridor to our rooms. She asks me which number I'm in? I tell her number six. Her reply is not what I had expected,

"I will join you in five minutes",

is this for real or is she joking?

I enter the room, there are two new rucksacks on the floor, but no bodies are in the bed. Lights out, I'm soon undressed and tucked up in my bed.

After a few minutes the door opens sending a shaft of light into the room from the outside corridor.

Is it Anke or the lads?

I soon realise that it's Anke; with the little light that's coming through the curtains I can see her silhouette.

I watch her remove her clothes; soon she's in between the sheets with me.

Touching her I find her body is pretty toned up. Her waist is tiny but her breasts are huge in proportion to the rest of her.

I ask her if she wants to make love. She tells me she's noisy, it's best not to.

We spend the next half hour touching each other. She gives me a blow job until I finally erupt like a volcano.

We lie side by side when the door opens, in come the other occupants. Soon they're in bed. My thoughts are,

how do I get this girl out of here?

We wait for a while and then she gets out of bed. Dressing herself, she then quietly leaves the room.

Are these lads asleep? They seem pretty quiet; if not maybe they will put a complaint in tomorrow morning. I can only wait and see.

After breakfast with Jim, I go out onto the streets. Today I want to go to the Parliament House.

"Australian government started here until it was finally based in Canberra".

I arrive at Parliament House to find security is pretty low key. I'm ushered to a seated area where there are three other people waiting for the free tour. I sit by a little Japanese girl, she gives me one of those silly Japanese tourist smiles, but she is pretty.

The tour starts; we are taken around the building shown various rooms including a large library.

The guide gives us a lot of information. Looking out of one of the first floor windows we can see a tennis court. He tells us it was used for practise by Martina Navratilova during the Australian Open.

Finally he takes us into the chamber. It looks very much like our House of Commons in London.

Tour finished, I decide to make conversation with the Japanese girl.

"I'd been watching her during the tour, the more I looked, the more I liked".

I took the direct route; I asked her if she enjoyed the tour? to which she replied,

"yes".

Second question,

"would you like a coffee?"

to which she replied,

"yes".

We found a small coffee shop; during our conversation she told me she was a radio presenter in Japan. Her name is Yoshiko.

She had recently parted company with her fiancée, so she's a little sad. She decided to resign from her job and travel Australia for six months.

The more we talk, the more I start to want this girl.

"I've never made love to a Japanese lady".

I ask her where she's staying. she tells me the Youth Hostel.

Fuck I hadn't seen her there, but it's a big place,

She's leaving tonight for Adelaide.

Our coffee was finished and we went different ways.

Perhaps I will see her before she leaves tonight.

I read about some building near parliament that's very high with a restaurant at the top, it gives good views of the city. That's my next destination.

I find the building and take the lift to the restaurant. Looking out of the windows the views are good, but what I've really come to see is in the gent's toilets.

I walk into the toilet, urinals and basins to one side, closets to the other, and on the far wall what I've come to see.

There's a window floor to ceiling with a good panoramic view of the city. I walk over and look down. It feels like the glass isn't there, you are standing on the edge.

Evening time and I catch sight of Yoshiko with her backpack ready to leave. I go over and greet her and wishing her a safe journey.

I'm sorry I didn't have more time with this girl; something would have happened between us I'm sure.

On the roof I meet up with Jim. He seems to have hooked onto a nice Swedish girl. She's very pretty with blonde hair and ice blue eyes.

I buy a beer and find a table. Sitting alone I'm soon joined by Anke, my German Luftwaffe employee.

I notice whenever I make this remark about her airline it riles her, this makes me do it more and more.

I ask her what she had done today. She tells me she was at the gym.

I thought this girl was fit.

She also tells me she's leaving for Adelaide tomorrow morning, after a few days there she will be in Sydney. We arrange to meet in Sydney at the Youth Hostel.

She's tired and it's an early start for her tomorrow, she's going to bed. I give her a big kiss and off she goes.

Thank fuck for that, I don't want her in my room tonight.

Today I want to visit the MCC. After some breakfast I'm reaching my destination. On one side of the road is where the Australian Open tennis is played, it looks quite impressive.

Finally I enter the gate into the stadium parking area. I go through the main entrance doors into a reception. The walls are covered with photos of cricketers past and present. Some I recognise.

"I played cricket when I was young but I was not a great follower of the game".

I'm sat on a seat in the stadium, it's a big venue. I imagine when England is out there playing it must be pretty intimidating. After taking my photos I decide to head back to the centre.

To finish the day I go down to the River Yarra. It's a beautiful setting and still in the centre of the city.

Tonight I don't see Jim; I think he must be enjoying the company of his beautiful Swedish girl.

This morning I meet up with Jim in the restaurant. Over breakfast he tells me his girl moved on this morning, he's a bit sad.

Over the PA system there's an announcement for someone to go to the phone. Jim says,

"Seb they are calling you".

I tell him that can't be possible,

"who knows I'm here?"

We finish breakfast, I tell him I'm going into the city and I will catch him later.

Today there are a few photographs I want to get of some buildings, one being Flinders Street Railway Station.

Photos taken, my next stop is Melbourne Gaol, a prison which is now a museum. This is where they executed Ned Kelly the famous outlaw.

I reach the prison, it's quite small. When you walk in there are cells, some contain exhibits. There are lots of death masks, including one of Mr Kelly himself. I made my way to the gallows, all very interesting

The evening arrives and I meet up with Jim.

"Seb, there's three messages for you at the reception",

he says.

How can this be possible, unless it's Anke?

I go to the reception; I find that Yoshiko was trying to contact me.

I ask the guy who took the messages what she wanted? He told me she wants me to travel with her.

Fuck that would be great.

I ask him if she left a number, he told me she didn't.

I needed to do a little detective work. I ask Jim if he's carrying a guide book, he tells me that he does.

With Jim's book I start to phone the most likely places she would have gone to in Adelaide. After several attempts to trace her I draw a blank. I can now only sit and wait to see if she calls back.

I spend the evening drinking a few beers with Jim. Tomorrow we both leave, him to Adelaide and me to Sydney.

Breakfast finished I have the day to waste. Tonight I'm doing an overnight coach to Sydney. Jim left early this morning.

Sat in the lounge area of the hostel, I notice a beautiful woman sat opposite me.

Her hair is black in a sort of boyish style. Her eyes are huge and round, her skin is a soft brown colour. She's very beautiful.

She says,

"hello",

we start a conversation, she tells me she's from Indonesia.

A place I will visit on this trip,

She now works and lives in Singapore.

Another place I will be travelling to.

She tells me if I get to Singapore to give her a call. We exchange addresses; she's leaving very soon for the airport.

What an injustice. I'm stupid enough to have invited an old girlfriend from England to travel with me from Singapore to Bangkok. I will never be able to date this beautiful woman.

I didn't hear from Yoshiko again. Perhaps we will cross paths somewhere on the journey.

~~~~~

Chapter 15

_Go Forth and Multiply_

I'm on the overnight bus to Sydney; this is my bed for tonight.

The trip is very uneventful, I remember passing through Canberra which looks very modern but boring. I also did manage to get some sleep.

Arriving in Sydney I find the Youth Hostel, like Melbourne it's very centrally located. I'm shown to a dorm with three bunk beds, none of which are occupied. I leave my bag and go to explore the city but first a little breakfast.

I find this city pretty easy to get around, I'm soon standing outside the Sydney Opera House.

It's amazing how you can get two of the worlds most famous landmarks in the same photograph. After a walk around the exterior and interior of the building, I decide to head to the nearest bar for some refreshments.

This evening I want to check out this lodge around the corner from the hostel.

The place is pretty cool, not that busy either.

I sit in the bar and strike up a conversation with a pretty girl from Denmark. She tells me she's travelling alone, she's twenty two years old and her name is Lisbeth. I ask her if she would like to join me for a drink tomorrow evening, she accepts my invitation.

I'm pretty tired from the trip so it's early to bed.

It's a new day; I want to go to the Harbour Bridge. I've been told that it's possible to go up one of the towers and enjoy the view. There should be some good photo opportunities.

After a gentle stroll through the streets I finally get sight of the end of the bridge, this makes a great photo. It's five hundred metres away, pointing the camera down the street you get the buildings on both sides going off into the distance, at the end the large metal framework of the bridge.

Eventually I'm standing at the entrance to the tower. It's surprising how fast the traffic moves on this bridge.

I make my way up the staircase to the top. I come back out into a sun drenched bay. The view is fantastic; I look down towards the Opera House. I can see an old sailing ship moored over to my right. I look to my left and I see the span of the bridge, it's very impressive.

I think I can see the ferry that goes to Manley; I hope to get on it in a few days time.

It's been another good day. Tomorrow Anke the Luftwaffe air hostess will be joining me, but tonight I have an appointment with Lisbeth.

I get to the backpackers, there's Lisbeth sat patiently waiting for me. I greet her with a kiss on the cheek, telling her how beautiful she looks. I ask her where she would like to go, she suggests Darling Harbour.

I think I read about this place the other day. Someone tried to attack Prince Charles there well he was giving a speech.

I spend a very enjoyable evening with Lisbeth; I hope to do it again. The evening comes to an end and we stroll back to where she's staying.

We go inside. I'm told by the lady at the reception that someone called Anke is looking for me. I can find her at the Youth Hostel.

Lisbeth asks me who this is, I tell her just a friend. I quickly say goodbye to Lisbeth, I don't want Anke or her to meet each other.

Fuck, I'm acting like I'm married to one of these women.

I make my way to the hostel, when I get there Anke is outside.

She's fucking one day early.

We give each other a big hug and go inside. Taking a seat we make small talk, how was your trip, that type of shit. During the rest of the evening we make a decision to go to the Blue Mountains tomorrow for a few days.

There's a knock on the door of the dorm, I go to see who it is. Opening the door I see my Luftwaffe air hostess.

"Hello Anke",

she returns the greeting.

We reach the train station. Within minutes we have purchased our tickets and have a seat, the timing is good. After a ten minute wait the train is pulling out of the station. The scenery is wonderful on route to our destination.

On arrival at the guest house we are welcomed by a nice old lady called Gladys. She shows us to our room, telling us not to hesitate to contact her if we need something.

Bags dropped off we head out on our first excursion.

Following a track we go deeper into the bush, everything around us is so beautiful.

We come to a waterfall; it must be a forty metre drop. I notice to one side there's a metal ladder, the type with safety rings. This goes to a ledge, from there you connect with another ladder and finally to a third ladder.

I think these ladders are for some kind of maintenance.

I ask Anke if she would like to climb them. she tells me we should try.

Ignoring the metal sign saying, NOT FOR PUBLIC USE, we start our accent.

First ladder completed, we move to the second one. I start to look down and realise how high up we are.

We reach the top of the second ladder, we move to the base of the last ladder.

Anke is now getting a little nervous, I'm not that happy myself.

I reassure her and we commence the final accent.

We reach the top and we both stand there looking down, it's a fucking long way. Climbing up here was definitely worthwhile, the views are fantastic, and being on top of the waterfall feels great.

With the evening upon us we go to a bar for a drink and some food. Anke is fun to be with, we spend the rest of the evening chatting about our lives and tomorrows hike.

Back at the room I watch Anke remove her clothes. When I see her body I just come back to life, all of the tiredness drains out of me.

Both undressed we lie on the bed caressing each other. Her body is very beautiful. Her breasts are full, the nipples starting to protrude. Combine this with her massaging my cock, I soon have an erection.

I put my condom on, I go to enter her. She shouts,

"stop!"

She sits upright and gets a silver packet from her bag. She tells me she doesn't trust the condom alone, she wants to insert a tablet inside herself for extra protection.

Tablet inserted I try to enter again. She says,

"no, you have to wait ten minutes for the tablet to dissolve".

This must be some fucking joke. I'm here with a stiff cock, condom in place, and I have to wait ten minutes.

We did finally make love that night, but for me it was totally self-gratification. I satisfied myself, I didn't think about her at all.

Today we go to see the Three Sisters which is a line of three peaks. The views are stunning; you can see nothing but eucalyptus trees forever into the distance. There's a blue haze, I imagine this is where the name derives from. We also ride some funicular railway; it takes people from one level to another, at quite a speed.

Since last nights events our relationship seems a little strained today. When we get into bed I tell her I'm tired. We both turn our backs on each other and go to sleep.

Morning arrives, I've showered and dressed, Anke is just rising. She sits up in the bed,

her breasts do look good.

I make a comment about her company being called Luftwaffe; this seems to tip her over the edge.

We exchange a lot of bad words; she throws a few things at me. I make my exit with no goodbye. I head for the station, leaving her there alone. I never saw her again.

Over the next week I meet up with Dipendra whom I'd met in Melbourne. He takes me around Sydney in his car, finally ending up at the famous Bondi Beach.

"I thought it was pretty shit compared to Waikiki".

I also met up with Billy, the guy who had been with me in Oahu. He drove me to a place called Newcastle, this is an industrial town. The reason for the trip was to show me the charred remains of buildings and trees, which in some places were still smouldering. This area experienced a major forest fire; it covered a vast area, killing a lot of wildlife.

My time in Sydney was finished. I had enjoyed the city very much. It was time to move to Adelaide.

I took the overnight bus to Adelaide, I didn't sleep well. I arrived and found a backpacking lodge.

Back to sharing a room with women.

Bags left in the dorm, I'm out onto the streets of Adelaide to find some food.

Stomach full I start to explore the city. I notice lots of beautiful buildings, colonial style I think.

I make my way to the racecourse. I'd read that there's a beautiful old grandstand. When I arrive, what I'd read was correct, the grandstand is definitely worth a photo.

Back at the lodge I get to meet my fellow travellers, they seem a good bunch of kids. There are two girls from Norway, Nora and Maja, very pretty girls. Felicie is from Germany, Sonia is from Sydney, Astrid is also from Germany, and Bibian is from Netherlands.

I decide it's time for a beer; I make my way to the nearest bar. Drinking at the bar I notice a metal plate with an inscription on it. The words say,

"This bar was opened by Barry Humphries".

He's a comedian who dresses like a woman. He goes by the name of Dame Edna Everage, he gets a lot of air time in the UK.

The only other thing to do tonight is to get some food.

I know exactly what I want.

Here on the street you can find pie carts; this is a van selling a Pie Floater. The cuisine is very simple; it's a dish of mushy pea soup, drop in the centre a meat pie, then cover with tomato sauce. It looks pretty bad but the taste is fantastic.

Time for some sleep. The dorm is full, there are six of us. One guy called Anthony wants to keep chatting until one of the others tells him to shut up.

Today I want to go up to the hill. This is where Adelaide Oval cricket ground is located.

When I reach this area it's definitely elevated. The views of the city are great. I make a visit to the inside of the stadium. It's a very different set up to the stadium in Melbourne.

Back in the town I go to a coffee shop. Sat sipping my espresso I notice a nice lady on the next table. I try to give her eye contact, finally succeeding. Chatting across the tables I ask her,

"can I join you?"

"it's fine",

she replies.

Her name is Birgetta, she's thirty two years old and she's from Sweden. She's travelling Australia, but only for six weeks.

Everyone seems to be travelling for six weeks.

Coffee finished, I ask her,

"would you like to have a drink tonight?"

She says,

"yes, that would be fine".

We arrange to meet at the lodge where she's staying; it's just around the corner from mine.

The evening comes around quickly; I'm soon walking towards the lodge where Birgetta is staying. When I arrive I find her already outside talking to another girl.

We go for a walk, finding a small bar with two tables and chairs on the pavement. We sit at one of the tables, I order drinks.

The evening sky is still very blue; it's a very warm evening.

Looking across the table at this beautiful lady, I start to think what it would be like to make love to her. The more I speak to her, the more I'm becoming attached to her.

Talking to her I notice a little Aboriginal man walking towards us. He's very dishevelled; he looks like he may well live on the streets. His walk tells me he's been drinking.

When he gets level with our table, he picks up my empty glass and thrust it towards my face, stopping a few inches short.

I was taken by surprise; it's too late to do anything. I just stare at him. Slowly he lowers the glass and walks on.

Birgetta is a little shocked, but it doesn't spoil what is a very pleasant evening.

I walk her back to her lodge, we kiss goodnight and arranged to see each other tomorrow.

Today I'm going to the Glenelg Beach with Nora, Maja, Sonia and Felicie.

When we get there everyone goes to the changing rooms. We are all changed and on the beach enjoying sunshine and surf.

Looking at the girls, Nora is pretty with incredibly blue eyes, she's only eighteen. Her friend Maja is also very pretty; she's much more conservative in her appearance. She looks very good in her bikini. Sonia is a man-hunter I think, and Felicie is just crazy. The time passes by very quickly, everyone enjoys the day.

Tonight I'm going to meet Birgetta, first I want to meet in one of the bars with everyone for a drink. Nora and Maja are leaving tomorrow.

I arrive at the bar to find the party in full swing, everybody is enjoying the night. I'm on the dance floor with Nora, she proves to be a sexy little mover. Time moves on, I have to leave.

I get to the lodge where Birgetta is staying. She comes out; we give each other a big hug.

We go upstairs and watch television. There's no one else in the room so we get a little passionate.

She says,

"if we were in my home in Sweden, we would be in bed now making love".

Fuck, I wish she hadn't told me that.

We go to a bar and have a few drinks together to finish the night.

Today I'm at the beach again, this time with Birgetta.

I change and wait on the sand for her.

She appears wearing a small bikini; it shows a lot of her body, she looks fantastic.

We play in the water together; I'm starting to fall in love with this woman. We sit on the sand together talking; she then breaks some bad news to me.

She says,

"Seb I have to leave tomorrow".

I'm a little devastated, but it's something I'm getting used to I suppose.

The evening arrives; I'm sat in a restaurant with my beautiful Swedish girlfriend. We have a wonderful evening, but I still keep thinking about her departure tomorrow.

The next few days I spend visiting places. The evenings are just not the same with Birgetta gone. I'm really missing her; I doubt that our paths will ever cross again.

Adelaide is a good city; the people I've met here have made it even more special to me.

Today I'm on a Qantas flight to Perth, in the west of this gigantic desert. Everybody goes up the east coast to Queensland; this side gets a little neglected. I've decided to go and have a look. The climate is very much like the Mediterranean so it should be very pleasant.

Perth is a very smart modern city with some good beaches nearby. There's a beautiful park where you can get some good photos of the city skyline. I also went to Fremantle; it's a very lovely place. I tried my first kangaroo steaks here, they were good.

My time in Australia is over.

What do I think of the Aussie way? they try to be like America.

I noticed a few statements, the tallest, or fastest. In little writing underneath would always follow:

"in the Southern Hemisphere".

FULL OF BULL SHIT.

~~~~~

Chapter 16

Beautiful Bali

Today I've touched down in Bali, I have two options.

First, go to the beach resort of Kuta and mix with the other tourists.

Second, go to the capital Denpasar.

I've decided on the capital Denpasar.

I've been told that the taxi driver's work together, they charge high prices.

I have a plan, which is not recommended. There are drivers who will pick you up a distance from the airport, they charge less. Some of these unofficial drivers are criminals, they will rob you. It's day time, so I will take my chance.

I walk through the line of official taxi drivers.

"Do you want a taxi?"

I tell them I'm going to walk to Denpasar.

"It's far",

one replies.

I start to walk along in the direction of Denpasar. After a short time a car pulls up with two men inside. They give me a good price, I jump in. I've no idea which way we are going. I sit with my hand on the door handle, ready for a quick exit if needed.

They ask me which hotel I am going to stay at.

"I'm not sure; just drop me in the centre",

is my reply.

They tell me of a place that is in the centre, and very cheap.

Be careful Seb.

Driving along, I tell them I'm going to Ubud tomorrow. Quickly they offer their services.

I know the cost of private car to Ubud.

After some negotiating we agree a price, it's good. Now they have more work tomorrow they will definitely look after me.

Soon we reach Denpasar. They take me to the hotel they were talking about.

The hotel is a shit hole but for one night it will do.

We arrange a time for them to pick me up tomorrow morning. I pay them their fare and they depart.

My room is pretty grim. There's a squat toilet, looks like it has never seen a cleaning brush. The bed sheets look clean; no wait there's strands of black hair. Water comes out of the shower, that's good.

Outside is a veranda connecting all of the rooms. Looking down there's a small river, totally polluted. There are even rats running around.

The evening arrives; I go downstairs into the hotel entrance.

In the main entrance there are two staircases, one to the left and one to the right. The staircase to the rooms is at the back of the building.

I wonder what these are for.

There's very loud music coming from above, maybe it's a disco.

There's a group of people who invite me to join them. They are from Jakarta, that's useful, I'm flying there next.

They are here on holiday for three days. They will go back by bus; I think that's quite a long journey.

I've noticed a few women climb the stairs but most are men.

I ask the people if it's a disco, they tell me it's a brothel. They ask me if I'm interested. I say,

"no".

Now I know it's a brothel I give it more of my time. I watch the men go up the right-hand staircase, returning down the left. They have a one-way system. The time spent up there is very short, just a quick flick.

Some girls come down; they go back up after a few minutes. One of the men from Jakarta tells me they are some of the girls providing the service.

Fuck, they're ugly.

He was a client earlier on he tells me,

he should know.

I get chatting with a local man. Part of the conversation is about my trip to Ubud tomorrow. He can drive me there. We negotiate a price; he's two thousand less than the other men. I tell him a time to pick me up; it will be one hour earlier than the other men. If he's late then I will have to go with them. He assures me he will not be late.

Morning arrives, so does my driver.

I jump into the front passenger seat and we pull away. I keep looking around hoping that I don't see the other people. Soon we are leaving the capital, now I feel happier.

We reach Ubud and my driver drops me in the centre. It's not a big town.

I find the first guest house or losmen. They want fifteen thousand Indonesian Rupiah, they will not come down. I go to the next, they want twelve thousand. After a little negotiating everyone agrees on ten thousand, that's £3 including breakfast.

The owners have built three bungalows in the garden of their property. The garden is full of green vegetation, colourful flowers and fruit trees.

The bungalow consists of a large bedroom, bathroom with western style toilet and a covered patio area with seats and table.

This morning a young man brings my breakfast, a large mug of coffee, toasted bread and three types of fresh fruit from the garden.

He tells me his name is Wayan. I notice both of his front teeth are chipped, I tell him I will call him Chip.

Sat having breakfast I see beautiful coloured butterflies and humming birds going about their business.

A beautiful Balinese girl is placing little parcels around the garden. It's a leaf with rice and a flower on it, also an incense stick.

She comes and places one by my bungalow.

I greet her, she greets me back. She tells me she is the daughter of the owner.

So she's family.

I ask her,

"what are the little parcels for?"

Her reply is,

"they are for the gods".

I start to walk around the local countryside. There are deep valleys covered in green banana plantation and rice paddies.

Walking along, I bump into two German girls. We start to explore together, when we are finish we work out the time. We've been walking for seven hours.

This evening I sit chatting with my neighbours, two girls from Denmark.

The day starts perfect with Chip bringing me my breakfast. The butterflies, the birds and the beautiful Balinese girl are here also.

Today I've hired a bicycle. I'm hoping to ride towards the centre of the island. The island is volcanic, so the route will be up hill. Coming back should be easier.

The ride starts off quite easy but the further I go the more I face an incline.

I stop on a bridge, looking down into the river I hear a voice shouting. I look up, there's a woman running in my direction from a craft shop.

I hadn't noticed it until now, it's in the middle of nowhere.

She's typical Balinese, long dark straight hair.

The closer she gets, I start to feel something isn't quite right.

Now she's very close. I look at her hands, they seem a little on the large side. I can see a bulge between her legs, when she runs it bounces from side to side in her loose tracksuit bottoms.

It's a fucking man, I'm sure.

Finally he or she is stood by my side. Looking at the face it's very beautiful, but for me the hands tell a different story.

She-male asks me to come and look at the shop; I explain that I'm not interested.

I start to walk, pushing my bicycle. I'm near the shop, there's a young girl who looks about nineteen sat outside.

I stop and greet her,

"hello",

she greets me back.

She invites me to come and have a look inside the shop, I decline.

The she-male then asks me if I would like to go down to some pools for a swim. Looking towards the direction he or she is pointing, I see some beautiful natural pools. I look back at him or her and watch the cunt put a finger in their mouth. I'm being offered a blow job.

"Do I smack the fuck or just get out of here?"

"I make a quick exit".

The rest of the journey was full of fantastic scenery. There were women semi-naked washing themselves in the rivers and streams, children playing in the fields and lush green vegetation.

Coming back was down hill, it was very fast.

Monkey Forest, that's where I am today, yes it's full of monkeys and tourists. The tourist can buy a few bananas and feed them.

I watch a couple of lads from England showing off to the girls they have with them. One is dressed in bib and brace denims with no tee-shirt. I think the idea is to show off the muscle and tattoos.

The monkey is sat by his feet waiting for a banana. He's breaking a banana from the bunch he's purchased when the monkey jumps up onto his chest. There's a look of sheer panic on his face. The monkey is gripping onto his chest with its nose touching his. Quickly he drops the bananas. The monkey releases its hold and drops down to retrieve them. Within seconds it climbs up a tree to enjoy the meal.

I spend the evening with the two German girls at a Balinese restaurant. The setting is beautiful; we sit outside surrounded by ponds stocked with fish. The place is lit with candles, very romantic.

The one girl is very pretty; we seem to be hitting it off well. The problem is her friend; she never wants to leave us alone.

The food is good and not expensive but like all good things, they have to come to an end. We say goodbye and exchange kisses, they go in one direction, me in another.

Tonight it is pitch black; there are no lights and no moon in the sky.

Just before my losmen there's the market. When I reach there I hear dogs, they are growling and fighting. They seem to be all around me but I can't see them.

I'm very happy when I reach the gate of the losmen and enter inside.

It's a nice sunny morning, the sky is blue. The Danish girls and I are going for a walk into the countryside.

We start to walk away from the centre. We leave the main road and follow a track. We're walking through green forest, and then we reach fields of rice. We start to make our way through the rice fields. We are now very much out in the open.

We stop for a rest, one of the girls looks at her watch. We realise we've been walking for three hours.

"I also realise we're lost".

The three of us decide on a direction to take and we carry on hiking.

We stop again; another hour seems to have passed by.

"Now we have another problem".

I've noticed the sky getting darker and darker; finally the rain is starting to fall.

In this lake of rice we can see a small bamboo and thatch building; it's about five hundred metres away. Quickly we make our way towards it.

The rain gets stronger; we are getting drenched with every step we make.

Finally we reach the shelter; it's occupied by the owner. He welcomes us in, now we are in the dry.

The shelter is three metres square; it's open to one side.

There are the girls, myself, the owner and his cow, all sheltering from one big tropical downpour.

Looking at the girls, they are soaked through.

The man doesn't speak English, but we manage to get some directions back to the centre.

The rain finally slows down. We take our leave, thanking the man very much for letting us use his shelter.

Walking is much more difficult now, the rain created a lot of mud. In some places we walk through mud that's just below our knees.

We come to the river the man was telling us about.

The bridge is just three pieces of bamboo. The mud on our feet is going to make it very slippery. The drop is two metres.

We all manage to get across the bridge and make the difficult trek through the forest, finally arriving at our losmen.

"A good shower was the order of the day".

In the evening the girls and I take Chip out for a meal. He tells me he likes the one girl very much.

Today it's another hike. I'm trying to find some bridge they show on these little tourist maps they give you for free.

Walking and walking, I still see no fucking bridge. I ask people, they direct me, still nothing.

I meet a girl who's from Canada; she's pushing a mountain bike. I tell her I'm trying to do this trek but can't find the bridge. She tells me she would like to join me.

After more directions we finally find the bridge.

The fucking thing is a steel girder, maybe nine inches wide. The drop to the river is six metres; the length of the bridge is eight metres.

Shit.

I take my first couple of steps; I turn to see my new found friend can't carry her bicycle.

Fucking hell, I suppose I will have to carry the fucking thing.

My progress is very slow. I reach the other side with the girls bicycle; she's not far behind me. We finish the walk together, arriving back at the centre. We say goodbye and she rides off.

Hope I don't see her again.

I've a few more days in Ubud before leaving this beautiful island. Next I will be flying to Jakarta.

Jakarta was a capital I couldn't begin to appreciate. For some reason I found it alien.

The only notable thing was getting lock out of my guest house one evening. I spent the time walking the streets of this capital city until sunrise. I was fortunate enough to find a twenty four hour burger bar,

"MacDonald's".

I also had the company of a beautiful Indonesian girl.

~~~~~

Chapter 17

Rendezvous in Singapore

I've arrived in Singapore. I have to wait for one hour in the airport to meet up with Julie, my old girlfriend. Her flight should be arriving soon.

I'm soon reunited with Julie, she looks pretty good. She's travelling light, just a small suitcase on wheels.

We give each other a big hug and go outside the terminal. First thing I notice is the heat and humidity of the place. Finding a taxi, we are soon being dropped off in the centre.

We're walking along; I'm already getting pissed off with the sound of her suitcase wheels, when a guy approaches us. He asks if we would like some accommodation.

We follow him, but I'm a little suspicious.

We arrive at a building which is obviously flats. I'm wondering whether we should proceed, but sometimes you have to take the risk.

Once inside we find it's a very nice apartment. He shows us to one of the bedrooms, it's very clean. The price he gives us is also good, so we accept the offer.

Once showered and changed we head out into the city. It's incredibly clean, a little sterile for me.

We reach the harbour and board a boat. This gives us a different view of the place, and we get our photo of the fountain.

When we get back to the apartment, sitting in the lounge are two lads from England. Having a chat with them, they tell me they are commercial divers. They're on their way to Indonesia for a short contract. They have dived all over the world, and have been paid good money.

Tonight we are going to eat in an area near the apartment.

Showered and changed we are soon sat at a table under the stars. The place is massive. It's not just one restaurant, it's several. They all do different types of Asian and Chinese cuisine.

We take typical Chinese dishes. They taste excellent and are very cheap.

The evening is good, nice food, a few beers. Now it's time for some sleep, I think we are both tired.

It seemed a little strange to be back in a bed with Julie. The last time we did this was when I was looking for my house in France, she accompanied me. We made love twice during the night, for me it was just good relief, nothing more.

Today we head to Raffle's the famous hotel, and even more famous the Long Bar, where the Singapore Sling was invented.

Once there we walk around the gardens, they are very beautiful.

The building is nothing special for me. Parts of it are old and original, but I'm sure some of it is quite modern.

Julie wants to look at one of the rooms. I tell to go ahead; I will meet her in the bar.

This is complete shit for me.

While sat in the bar waiting for Julie with a beer in my hand, I start to realise what a mistake I've made inviting her. This is going to be hard work.

Julie joins me, she just keeps talking about how good the rooms are, how she would like to spend a night here.

Fuck it, this place is too expensive.

Another day finished and we are in bed together. Yes we make love but it's becoming more difficult to perform for me. I just don't want to be with this girl.

Today Julie wants to go to the part of the city where the big shopping malls are located. I tell her I don't want to go shopping, she can do that alone.

We both go in different directions. I spend most of the day touring the bars.

After evening meal we go to bed early, tomorrow we are going to Malaysia on the bus.

Julie attempts to have sex, I tell her I'm to tired.

This morning we are on the bus going into Malaysia. Our plan is to follow the east coast and see a few beaches.

Passport formalities finished, we find ourselves in Malaysia.

After a few hours bus journey we reach the town of Mersing, it's our resting place for the night. Tomorrow we want to get the ferry to Tioman Island.

I have the name of a guest house which we start to look for. I ask a local man for directions. He tells us to walk straight on and take the first left; we will then see the place in front of us. Taking his directions we reach the guest house.

The noises of those wheels are really fucking me off.

We enter inside; a very dirty unkempt man takes us to a room. We go in; I see the look on Julie's face. The place is filthy.

I check the bed linen, it's clean.

I explain to Julie that it's only for one night, which she begrudgingly accepts.

I go off to have a shower. When I walk into the communal bathroom I see how grim this place is. On the walls I'm sure I can see dried shit smeared. The toilets are squat type and filthy, it looks like they have never been cleaned.

I return to the room showered and feeling very fresh. Julie says,

"what are the bathrooms like?

I say,

"fine"

She takes a towel from her case and leaves the room. In less than twenty seconds the door opens, she walks in with tears in her eyes.

"I can't use that it's filthy",

she says.

I try to explain to her, but she will not listen.

The water is clean, ignore what's around you.

Finally my persuasive methods work, she returns to the bathroom.

After a short time she comes back to the room having showered. I see a little smile on her face.

I think a shit will be out of the question tomorrow morning.

The whole night was noise, people talking, farting, and trying to cough up their digestive system. After a very bad nights sleep we leave the place. Neither of us shower nor shit.

The morning is beautiful; we're on the ferry to Tioman Island. The journey should take a couple of hours.

I look up and see a pristine blue sky, looking down I see the beautiful blue water of the ocean.

We get our first sighting of the island. It looks very lush and green, like Rarotonga. I can also see the golden sandy beaches.

The ferry reaches the landing site. It's made of wood, it doesn't look very safe. The boat is bobbing up and down, making disembarking very difficult.

Safely back on land, we walk a short distance to the beach. Here we find beach huts under the palm trees.

A beautiful girl takes us to one of the huts, we look inside. Things are pretty basic, but the position sells it for me.

Accommodation sorted out we go for a short walk to look for somewhere to eat. On the beach there are several small restaurants and bars. I think this place will be good for a bit of relaxation.

The rest of the day we spend on the beach under the palm trees.

A beautiful young girl asks me if I would like a massage. I decline.

It's a lovely evening; we decide to walk along the beach. There's a full moon which reflects on the ocean, a warm breeze blows into our faces.

It seems a good time and place to make love, so we do.

The day starts with bright sunshine. We walk to the village; it's a continuation of the beach so it's not far. We take breakfast at a small restaurant.

Breakfast finished we walk around. There's a small river with a wooden bridge.

Standing on the bridge I see something swimming towards us. It looks like a crocodile, when it gets closer I can see it's not. The skin is smooth and the head is like a lizard.

It passes under the bridge, after a short distance it gets out of the water. It must be two to three metres long. It reminds me of a Komodo Dragon, which I think is a monitor lizard.

I go down onto the bank, there's a building built up on wooden supports. I go underneath; I can see several more of these lizards.

Slowly I make my way towards them. I'm four metres away; I decide that's close enough. They are feeding on the rubbish that's being thrown out.

I start to take photographs, the flash is disturbing them. The flash is turned off, now there's not enough light. They're giving me a lot of attention; I think it's time to leave.

We stay on the island for another four days. I think Julie enjoyed it.

"I enjoyed not hearing those fucking wheels on her suitcase".

Today we get to a place called Marang; it's supposed to have a nice beach.

The guest house we have found is given very high ratings by Julie.

"I think she will shit in this one".

We start to explore the place, it looks very nice. There's a small working harbour with little wooden fishing boats.

In the water is a little old man, the water is up to his waste. He's surrounded by what looks like small squid. I think he's washing and cleaning them.

We walk a little further, we find a man with a monkey on a lead.

I wonder why? perhaps it's his pet.

My thoughts are soon answered. The monkey is told by the man to climb a coconut tree, which it does quite easily. Once it's at the top it starts to twist the coconut until it drops to the ground, what a great idea.

We spend the evening eating and drinking near the harbour, this left Julie in a very good mood. When we went to bed, she put her lips around my cock and proceeded to give me good oral sex.

We spent a few days lazing around on the beach before leaving for our next destination.

We stop near the border at the town of Kota Bharu. We will sleep here tonight and then cross into Thailand tomorrow using some local transport.

We quickly find a guest house, which after inspection seems fine. The room is clean; the shared bathrooms are also clean. There are Western style toilets, no squatting.

We spend the evening feeding ourselves with good food from a small local restaurant. Some beers at a local bar, now it's time for bed.

Morning sun coming through the window wakes me up.

My first priority is to go and have a shit. I cross the corridor and go into the first cubicle. I'm greeted with a sight that I don't want to see first thing in the morning.

The toilet doesn't have a seat. The flat area at the back where a seat would bolt on is occupied by a big lump of shit.

Some dirty bastard must have stood to use the toilet and missed. Or were they only use to using the squat type and stood on the toilet dropping their package at the back.

Thankfully I can warn Julie; otherwise another hysterical display would be created.

My package delivered into the pan, I go back to the room and warn Julie not to use the one toilet. We both finish our showers and grab some breakfast, next stop immigration control.

Passports stamped, we cross the bridge into Thailand. The town of Sungai Kolok is where we will get a train to Surat Thani, then a bus to Donsak.

Today we are at the port of Donsak. We are getting a ferry across to Koh Samui, another tropical island. We will spend three or four days on the island, then go to Bangkok.

Time went by quickly on the island. I found it very different to Tioman, much more tourism.

I also noticed a lot of very old men with very young Thai girls, some looked under age.

One man with a little girl on his arm had dyed his hair and his ear was pierced. He looked ninety years of age, the girl looked fourteen.

We have a very long train journey to Bangkok, it will be overnight.

The journey is interesting; during the light hours we are able to see the countryside. In the evening we are sat opposite a pretty Thai lady who speaks good English.

At one stage, a policeman who is the security on the train starts to talk to her. There's some question over her necklace.

When the policeman leaves, I ask her what he wanted. She tells me that the necklace is gold; he was telling her to keep it out of sight.

It's early morning and the train pulls into Bangkok Station, next we have to find a place to stay.

I've been given the name of some hostel; it's in the Khao San Road area of the city.

Over the next three days Julie and I explore the city with its temples and the network of canals.

One evening we visit Pat Phuong, the famous red light district.

Bangkok is interesting, but there seems to be a lot of pollution in the air.

Today we are at the airport. Julie is flying back to the UK, I'm going to Kathmandu. Julie's flight goes first, mine later.

The time arrives for Julie to go to her gate. We say our goodbye's and she's gone.

I'm not really sorry that she's gone; I'm definitely not going to miss those fucking suitcase wheels.

~~~~~

Chapter 18

Nepal

I fly into Kathmandu; the flight path is very beautiful. We fly low over the mountains then across the tops of the hills. Looking down I see small villages perched on top of these hills.

The plane touches down. Quickly I depart with my dollars and get my passport stamped.

Outside the terminal I find an unofficial taxi. After some bargaining, we both agree on a fare to take me to the centre.

I soon find myself sitting in my bedroom. Looking out of the window, I see a lot of policemen with big sticks. A truck arrives which looks military. Jumping from the back are soldiers.

I haven't arrived during military take over I hope.

I ask the manager of the guest house what's going on.

His reply is,

"tomorrow is a general strike; there maybe trouble on the streets. The building next door is a bank, so they are reinforcing the security".

I make my first trip into the centre; it takes about five minutes walking. It's very interesting place. The buildings are quite run-down. There are a lot of poor people here, beggars are in abundance. The people seem to be of two different types in looks. Some look typical Indian, others have a Mongolian look.

I finally reach a square containing several temples, they look splendid. Getting closer I see the wood carvings, all telling a story I suppose.

The remaining bit of the day goes by quickly. I spend my first night in Kathmandu looking for bars.

It's another day in Kathmandu, just aimlessly wandering around the streets. The police are out in force, there are no signs of trouble yet.

I see porters who transport everything on their back. One man is carrying a metal office cabinet the size of a wardrobe. The harness is attached around the top of his head, the cabinet rests on his back.

He looks a very small man, maybe just over five feet; his neck must be very powerful.

With the cabinet in position, he sets off to deliver the goods.

He's fucking running.

I notice a bit of the hippie influence here. I've also been asked several times if I want some hash.

Restaurants are plentiful and cheap. I stop and eat good food for very little money in a Tibetan restaurant.

I find this place fascinating, it's a working city and very busy. You see everything happening in a small space.

Today I'm on a bus that will take me to Pokara. Sat next to me is a guy from Washington D.C.

Does that stand for Dumb Cunts?

He tells me he was a doctor; he gave up and started to play the stock market. One more good deal, he will be able to retire. Not bad, he's only thirty five.

He's also got a problem. He's got the shits poor guy.

We make a stop, in a flash he's off the bus. He runs in the direction of a small stone bridge over a stream. He disappears beneath it. He returns to the bus minutes later, looking very relieved.

The road is unmade with some very steep drops over the edges. I see one bus on its side balancing precariously on the edge. Fortunately everyone is out sitting on the large boulders around.

My bus is finally reaching Pokara; the last twenty kilometres took three hours.

I find a good guest house; the owner who is Nepalese is a very nice man.

I start to walk around, the air feels clean compared to Kathmandu. The lake looks beautiful, but I'm told it's polluted.

This evening the owner of the guest house wants me to join him and his family for dinner. Sitting at the table we are eating a dish called momo. It's a dumpling stuffed with dry fish, there's also curry and rice. It tastes wonderful.

It's a beautiful morning; I'm walking towards the lake.

Over to my left is a little old man, he's unpicking a sack. I walk over and sit with him.

He seems to be making string from the treads of the sack. He doesn't speak English, so we communicate with sign language. I ask him if I can take his photo. he nods his head in approval.

Sat talking we are approached by a woman with two children, she speaks English. She tells me the old man is her father. She also invites me to her house which is fifty metres away.

Once at the house I'm offered food, having just had breakfast I decline.

I'm then offered a local brew. She opens a small door housing a cupboard built into the side of the house. To my surprise I see a nice shiny copper cylinder and pipes.

It's a fucking still.

The house is built on the side of the lake, a very beautiful place to live.

I wish them a good day and take my leave.

I start to walk out of the town. I make my way up a hill onto a flat grassed plain.

There are small stone cottages scattered about. They have boundary walls also built of stone. The walls are not very high; you can see the contents of the gardens. The plants are a vivid green.

I meet a young boy outside one of these cottages, he speaks good English. He invites me into his garden. We walk towards the house; sitting on the porch is a girl with both breasts out feeding a baby. I look at her; she only looks a child herself, maybe fourteen years old.

Looking around the garden, I see one very green plant.

It's cannabis.

I say to the young boy,

"what is this for?"

He tells me

"it's for the sheep when they get a bad stomach".

Was it true? I'm not sure.

My journey back to the town brings me to a river. I cross on a rope bridge, it's not very stable. Looking down, I see the women washing their clothes and bodies in the waters of the river.

Tonight I spend relaxing and talking to the owner of the guest house. Tomorrow I go back to Kathmandu.

Here I am back to the noise and pollution of Kathmandu. The day is spent wandering the alleyways of this fascinating city.

I come across the Temple of Kumari, the living goddess. I'm told the girl is chosen at a very young age to be the goddess. She remains in the temple until she reaches puberty, never growing up like a normal child.

In one of the windows I get sight of her, she looks so young.

I come across another temple. The wood carvings on this one are very erotic. You see various positions of love making, couples making penetration among other things.

Today the weather is good; I've reached the city of Patan. The place is like Kathmandu but without the crowds and pollution.

There are lots of temples to see, but what catches my eye is a vehicle.

It's a base with four wheels, there's a tower constructed out of bamboo. The tower is very high; making it look like it's going to topple over.

I'm told by a Nepalese man that it's used in a festival. Men will climb up the tower. The cart will then be pushed through the streets, sometimes reaching fast speeds. Inevitably there are injuries.

Tonight is my last night here in Kathmandu, tomorrow I want to get a bus to the border.

I'm on my bus but I have to thank a Nepalese man for that. This bus station is chaotic; I would never have found it without his help.

This journey is overnight, I will reach the border town of Kakarvitta tomorrow morning.

I've arrived in Kakarvitta; the journey was fine, beautiful scenery.

This place has very little to offer, fortunately I'm not staying here.

I find the cars that take you to the Indian side of the border. The drivers are telling us that we can't cross. Just a little bullshit I think.

There are three other people who also want to make the trip.

We are soon getting our exit stamps and being taken to the Indian border post. The journey is short; we are at the Indian immigration post in no time at all.

Entering the building, we're told that we're not allowed to cross. A politician was murdered and the crowds are rioting. They can't guarantee our safety.

We have no option, we return to the Nepalese side with our tails between our legs.

The immigration officer who one hour ago stamped our passports was very understanding. He told us if we want a stamp we would have to pay for a new visa, that's $40.

He let us through for nothing, but with no stamp in our passport we are illegal. I hope he's not setting us up for a bribe or a fine.

I find a room; it's a fucking shit hole. They're also charging double the rate.

Bastards.

Talking to the son of the guest house owner, I mention to him that I play chess. Soon the room is full with people, watching me play the town chess champion. I didn't win; he was too good for me.

Sleeping is difficult, the room is very small. There's a window opening with no frame. It looks out onto the next properties wall, this is nine inches away. There's a cavity, my mind just thinks of a big rat climbing up and into the bedroom.

Today I'm told that the cars doing the border crossing are on strike. This is starting to fucking piss me off. I finally find a driver who is willing to do the trip.

Thank fuck for that.

No problems with the nice immigration officer, we are rolling.

"India here I come".

~~~~~

Chapter 19

_Mad Mad India_

Today there are no problems. I'm told by the immigration officer at the Indian immigration post that they will let me through.

I already have my visa so the formalities are soon completed. I find myself in the sub continent of India.

I want to go to Darjeeling; from here I need to get to Siliguri. In Siliguri there are lots of old Jeep's plying the mountain route.

The day is going well; I've reached Siliguri and found a Jeep that's going to Darjeeling very soon.

I've been waiting only thirty minutes, we seem to be full. Off we go.

My seat is in the front so it's quite comfortable, and I can see the scenery. We wind up through the mountain road; soon we are passing the little toy train.

"I wanted to do the trip on this train, but it's too slow".

It reminds me of the little trains you get at village fête.

"OK a little bigger".

The road winds its way around, showing me some fantastic scenery. In places the cloud is quite low.

I notice these crazy road warnings, some painted on the rocks, some on old boards. They are telling you,

Drive Don't Fly,

Enjoy Your Ride, Don't Commit Suicide,

and many more.

Soon we are arriving in the town. The Jeep comes to a halt; everyone gets out of the vehicle. I think the drive was fantastic, the scenery was so special.

I've found a small hotel in the centre, it's still early so I will go and have a walk around.

I notice that it's a little cool here; I suppose I'm at altitude.

I start to see that some of the buildings are from the time of British rule.

The shops are full of sacks of spices. They seem to have lots of different colours and the spell in the air is beautiful.

Back at the hotel I shower and start to feel the cold. I need to go out and find some food.

It's been a great day, the trip here was wonderful. What I've seen so far of this place is making me look forward to tomorrow.

I've slept well; the morning is sunny with a clear blue sky. When I get outside I feel how cold it really is.

I find a small local restaurant for breakfast, big mug of hot tea, Darjeeling of course and some kind of sweet cake.

I wander aimlessly throughout the day taking photographs; I do get some good shots. The place is really interesting; the feeling of being here is good.

I read that the British made these hill stations for a purpose. Governing from places like Calcutta was fine until the weather became too hot. They would then move here for the cool climate.

Another day is finished; tomorrow I go to Tiger Hill to see the sunrise. The driver is picking me up at three thirty in the morning, so it's early to bed.

Well I've dragged myself out of bed; I'm being driven to Tiger Hill.

It's still very early; it's dark and very cold. If it's not to misty it should be worth it for the view.

Everybody comes up here to watch the sunrise and see the peaks of Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world.

Soon we are at the summit of Tiger Hill, it didn't take long. Tiger Hill is the highest point in Darjeeling, it's only eleven kilometres from the centre.

I'm amazed how many people are already here, they are all Indians.

The light is just starting to break; I get my first glimpse of this monster of a mountain.

Slowly the sun starts to appear throwing light on the peaks, it looks very impressive. The sun climbs higher and higher, illuminating the mountain even more.

The peaks stand out in a blaze of fiery red, turning into a glowing orange. The sight is quite beautiful to watch, everyone seems to be applauding what they have seen.

The trip to Tiger Hill was well worth the early morning call; soon we are descending back to the town.

I spend the next four days exploring this little jewel. I see the beautiful green slopes of the tea plantations, the wonderful colours of the various plants and trees.

Today I'm back in the Jeep heading for Siliguri. This time my seat is in the back, the seat is just a wooden board.

There's only one other person in the back with me. There's no door so we are open to the elements.

We make a stop to pick up some people, they are police.

"I think they get the ride for free".

One is a lady; she looks pretty good in her uniform.

Her colleagues depart before her. After they've gone she starts a conversation with me.

The more I look at her the more I like her.

Soon she reaches her departure point. She tells me this is her house; would I like to stay there tonight?

What a fucking offer.

I was tempted but I decline. She jumps out; I get a nice smile and a wave. The Jeep pulls away, she's out of sight.

We've reached Siliguri. A few minutes walk and I'm in the bus station. I buy my ticket to Calcutta.

The bus station is a pretty busy place. There are hawkers selling just about everything. There are a lot of people, I'm sure they are not all passengers.

I find my bus and soon I have my seat. I have been told that it should be about a seven hour journey.

Next stop Calcutta.

Well here I am in Calcutta. The only thing I know about this place is the Black Hole of Calcutta, a lot of people dying in some prison I think.

Breakfast finished, I make my first venture onto the streets. First thing I notice is how busy the place is, the traffic, the people, just crazy.

The day goes by; I've seen so many beggars. Most have some form of disability.

Crossing the road is a very risky thing to do, the Tata bus comes hurtling towards you, never slowing down.

My first day in Calcutta is over; I do have a feel for this city. Tonight I will sleep well I'm sure.

It's a new day, the streets are alive.

There are disabled people lying on the pavement. How did they get there? Someone must have put them there; they have no movement of their body. They are totally paralysed.

I notice the taxis are black and yellow. The car reminds me of the old English cars of the fifties. I must find out what they are.

I'm looking in a shop window when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around.

Fuck this man is stood there. His face is totally covered in some kind of warts, he fucking looks like the Elephant Man. Turning around and seeing him that close to my face did frighten me.

Cunt.

Sat having a coffee in a dirty little café, one of the locals tells me there's a test match tomorrow, between India and Pakistan. I would like to watch it but I think it will be difficult to get in. These two are not the best of friends; cricket between them must be like war.

Another day passes by; I really do enjoy this crazy place. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

Here I am just wandering the streets of Calcutta again. What will today have in store for me?

I've noticed rickshaws being pulled by little old men, they must be strong. I decide to have a trip in one of these rickshaws, after a lot of tough bargaining we are on our way.

Every time he stops he drops the front down, to rest I suppose.

This is no light buggy.

When he picks it back up, the weight of me and the rickshaw lifts him off the ground. I feel like I'm going to fall backwards, but he always manages to correct everything.

My feet are back on the ground. I did enjoy my rickshaw trip, but now I'm back to the beggars.

I see one man; he seems to have a drain tube coming out of his chest. It's green and looks like a piece of hosepipe. He's not wearing a shirt,

why?

He wants people to see his problem so they will give him money.

I'm now starting to think that this begging is an industry. Perhaps there's nothing wrong with him?

One beggar, who over the last few days keeps tapping me on the shoulder, finds me again today.

He definitely has a problem, his fucking hands are gone.

He holds the two stumps in front of my face, there's a plastic bag with the handles over each stump.

OK this man does have a problem; I will give him some money. I take a few coins from my pocket and drop them on the floor. He's got to work for his money, fucking pick it up.

I spend a few more days wandering this great city, fucking off the disabled who do annoy me.

Today I'm on the bus to a place called Puri; it's a holy place where people go on a pilgrimage.

The journey is straightforward; on route I see some very bad accidents involving lorries, buses and cars. There would certainly have been some fatalities.

I arrive in the town, it's earlier afternoon. I get a cycle rickshaw and I'm dropped off at the guest house where I want to stay.

I go in, I'm shown a good clean room. Only 50 rupee.

I go out into a garden area to sit and drink a beer, to my amazement it's on the beach. This is a great place to chill out. I think a few days here will be good.

The sun is getting low; I go through the gate and onto the beach. The sand is beautifully soft and golden.

Looking along the beach I see a lot of grass houses, not far maybe three hundred metres away. I will check those out tomorrow.

The sun finally sets out in the ocean, I get my photographs. It's time for some more beer.

I have just had breakfast, sat in the sun looking at the ocean. The cost 30 rupee, that's a bargain.

It's only nine o'clock; the sun is already very hot. I start my walk along the beach towards the grass houses.

I pass men sat repairing nets. I ask them if I can have a photograph, they nod in approval.

Next I pass sharks that have been caught, all shapes and sizes.

Something a little more disturbing, several turtles which have also ended up in the nets.

Finally I reach the edge of the grass houses.

I walk past looking inside what seems to be a village. What I see are some very good photographs, but do I go in? I'm not sure.

I sit on the beach, slowly coming towards me are women carrying bundles of wood. They get closer and closer. I start to click with my camera; I get some great photographs with the ocean in the background.

Back at the guest house, I ask the people what the grass houses are for. They tell me it's a fishing village but it's illegal, it will be knocked down soon.

Back on the beach I decide to go for a swim, the sun is very hot. What do they say?

"Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun".

I do seem to be the only person outside in this heat, but the water feels good.

Relaxing in the guest house I wait for sunset, soon it arrives. I walk down to the village watching the sun slowly disappear.

Men start to appear from the village. They walk to the edge of the water and squat.

I soon realise they are having a shit. You can see a long turd hanging from the arse.

Once finished they walk away, leaving their package on the sand. The tide comes in and the shit is taken away, a flush system I suppose.

My mind is now thinking about this afternoon, I was swimming in there. I didn't see any floaters but they must have been close.

I've had a good sleep, a good breakfast, but my throat is a little sore today. Is it the shit in the water or just coincidence?

Now it's time to go to the village, I'm going inside to look around. If this place is illegal, they can't really stop me, but if they know they are under threat of eviction, they could be angry people.

A short walk and I reach the edge of the village. I take the first available entrance and I'm inside.

I start to walk around, the ladies are outside cooking, and the children are running around playing.

I don't seem to be making many ripples; people look at me but carry on with their work.

I start to take some photographs, no one seems to mind. I'm now getting more confident. I talk to people, some can understand.

I ask if I can take their photograph. they say,

"yes".

After thirty minutes have passed, I decide to go back to the beach.

Walking back towards the guest house, I see people are starting to congregate.

I look out into the ocean. I see that the fishing boats are returning with their catch. I wait for ten minutes; the first boats hit the beach.

I watch the people do their dealing. What takes my attention is the catch. I see shark, octopus, and turtle; even what I think is a dolphin. Nothing in the ocean is safe from these guys.

The next couple of days I visit the village. I watch them shit in the ocean and catch whatever they can get in their nets.

Today I have problem here. There's a festival, I've been oblivious to it. Transport to get out of here is completely full, I'm stuck.

Talking to one of the guys at the guest house, he tells me he will try to find something for me.

The evening is a balmy one. The sound of the surf breaking is making for a nice atmosphere.

I sit in the garden of the guest house when my ticket hunter arrives with good news. He's found me a ticket for tomorrow morning on a bus back to Calcutta.

~~~~~

Chapter 20

_Dead Bodies Everywhere_

What seemed like a nine hour drive back to Calcutta was pretty uneventful. I'm back in the same guest house I'd left a week earlier.

I only have tomorrow here, then it's a train to Varanasi so its relaxation time.

I wander the streets of this crazy city once more.

I see the same beggars, the same crazy driving, and the little old men pulling the rickshaws. I will miss this city.

My other task was to go to the railway station and get my ticket, this I did, it seemed well organised.

My evening is quite, I sit in the guest house reading a book. I don't have an early start tomorrow but will go to bed early tonight.

It's my last day in Calcutta; tonight I go to the railway station for my first train journey.

It's noon, the sky is going very dark, it looks like rain is coming. I go back to the guest house, on my arrival the skies open up. The rain is torrential; it doesn't ease off until six o'clock.

With my pack on my back, I go to find a taxi.

I turn a corner; I'm confronted by water two feet deep. I try another way, it's the same.

Where the guest house is the ground is slightly elevated, everywhere else seems to be flooded.

I've no option but to start wading through the water. Sandals in hand I look for a taxi. No one wants to drive, I have a problem.

I notice all sorts of things floating in this water, plenty of diseases could be picked up.

Finally I find a taxi driver who is willing to try to get me to the station.

We make our way through the flooded streets. We reach the Hooley Bridge, it's at a standstill. Slowly we move along, the taxi driver weaving from one side to the other.

I look at the time on the clock in the cab; I think I'm going to miss this train.

Progress is still slow. The scene on this bridge is like a mass exodus from the city, due to an invading army. Finally we get off the bridge and my taxi driver swiftly gets me to the station.

Once inside I'm faced with the same chaos I'd just witnessed on the bridge. I find the platform where my train will leave from, it's packed with people. Surely they will never fit into one train.

I walk to the far end where I see the notice boards, nothing is there. I ask someone about the passenger list, he tells me it will be pinned up soon.

Before the train departs a list of all passengers is pinned on the notice board; you have to check that your name is there. If you are not on the list, you can't travel, even though you have a ticket.

I don't have to wait long; a man comes to the board and puts up the lists. There's one big push towards the board, everyone trying to see if their name is there. I make it to the front, yes I'm there.

I walk back along the platform, within a few minutes a train is pulling in.

Fuck, this train is still moving and people are going through the windows and hanging onto the doors, all trying to get inside. One man even manages to go through the top of the door, above the heads of the people hanging onto the outside of the door.

The train comes to a standstill, more chaos. There are just too many people.

I'm told that the people climbing through the windows are going into third class, that's a relief.

I walk along until I find my carriage. I start to push my way in; waiting in an orderly line doesn't work here.

Finally I'm inside, my seat is occupied.

I tell the man that he's sitting in my seat. I show him my ticket but my request falls on deaf ears. Another passenger tells me to wait.

After a short time a guard comes down sorting problems. He takes my ticket and looks at it, he then tells the man to move. With no hesitation the gentleman gets up and goes to look for his seat.

I'm pretty impressed with the way things are organised. I also realise now, that when a person is travelling the whole family comes to see them off, that's why the platform was so crowded.

I'm sat in my seat waiting for my first train journey in India. The chaos seems to have finished, everyone is sitting in their seats waiting for the journey to commence.

There's a slight jerk, we are rolling. Slowly the train makes its way out of the station and into the darkness.

Looking around I see the people have lots of luggage. Most of them have what looks like a picnic hamper.

Walking past is a soldier, I think, he's also armed. I ask the man next to me why? He tells me it's the security they put on the trains.

We don't seem to have travelled far and we are making our first stop. It's a small station, but full of people.

Outside I hear a man shouting,

"chai, chai",

he's selling tea I think.

I watch him pour some into a small clay cup, he gives it to someone. They drink it, throwing the cup on the ground. I watch it break. Strange why they don't return it to the man, they must be very inexpensive.

Next a man is shouting,

"baldy head, baldy head",

what the fuck he's selling I don't know.

I watch and finally I see boiled eggs. Another favourite is half of a cucumber with a red powder on it.

The train starts to move again, people start to settle down.

It's not long before the picnic hamper is open, it's full of food. This must be a normal thing because most people seem to have them. I'm being offered food, which I turn down.

The journey goes on with stops every thirty minutes, I'm sure. The men selling the tea, eggs and cucumber shouting to alert the passengers at every stop.

People are now starting to sleep. My bunk is a top one, that's good. The seat is the bottom bunk; the back of the seat becomes the middle bunk, quite clever.

Morning arrives, looking around people are eating.

I did get some sleep, but the various stops that were made and the constant noise of the traders gave me very little opportunity of a deep sleep.

We are on a steel bridge crossing a river, this makes everyone very excited.

They start to throw coins down into the river. I can also see to the left side of me a town, could this be Varanasi? I ask the man sitting next to me; he tells me it's Varanasi.

I ask him why people are throwing coins into the river. He explains to me that this is the Ganges, the holy river. Now I understand.

We reach the station, I watch the chaos begin. Slowly I make my way out of the carriage and onto the platform. Finding the exit I'm soon outside in beautiful sunshine. I'm surrounded by people offering me transport.

I'm transported to my guest house, I've secured a room. I fall onto the bed, remembering nothing until I wake up two hours later.

It's mid afternoon, I feel so much better having had the sleep. Let's go and have a look at this place.

Varanasi or Banaras is a very holy place, people come here to die. Well that's what I've been told.

The reason is the holy river. Fuck, once you are dead, you are dead, to hell with where you happen to be.

I go down to the river, I see people bathing in what looks very dirty water. They dip their heads under; they must swallow some of this dirty river.

Looking down the bank I see steps, I think they're called Ghats, there's also shrines and temples. I think this place will give me some good photographs.

I spend the evening in the guest house. I meet two guys, one from America and one from Australia. During the evening conversation we decide to hire a boat together. We will go onto the river early tomorrow morning for sunrise.

After a good sleep I wake and crawl out of bed, it's early morning and it is still dark.

We make our way to the riverbank; our boat is waiting for us.

The sun is just rising, it's getting light. There's an eerie mist floating a few feet above the water. We see another boat; it's absolutely overloaded with Indian tourists. Looking back at the shore the city looks very different. People are bathing, there are lots of boats rowing people out so they to can look back at the city too.

Finally we reach the riverbank, our trip is finished. We all go our different ways, mine is to find some breakfast.

Eating breakfast I look down onto the street. A small girl, maybe three years old squats on the pavement. She shits leaving a pool, it looks like diarrhoea. She disappears back into the building she'd come out of. A pig appears, sniffs the pool then eats every bit of it.

Watching the little girl shit didn't spoil my breakfast. When the pig came and ate everything, my appetite was gone.

I start to walk along the riverbank. Looking across to the other side I notice lots of large birds, they look like vultures; it's to far away to be certain.

My next find is a doll floating face up in the water. Closer inspection tells me different.

It's the body of a baby, the hands and feet are missing, the face seems to have been eaten away but it's definitely a baby. I take a few photos and go back to the guest house.

I find John the Aussie back at the guest house. I explain what I'd seen, he gets very excited. He asks me if I can take him.

We arrive at the riverbank. I'm unable to see the body; perhaps I have the wrong place. We start to walk, holy shit we find a different body.

This time it's a girl. She would have been about seven or eight years of age. She only has limbs, hands and feet are missing, also her face looks to have been eaten away. Her hair is long, it's black in colour.

We both take more photos and quickly vacate the area. I'm not sure people would like us taking these photographs.

The evening is spent in the bar with my two fellow travellers, they are both leaving tomorrow.

I talk to the man serving at the bar, I tell him about seeing the bodies. He tells me that certain people are not cremated, for reasons of cost or superstition. They are bound in robes and weights are attached, they are then dropped into the river. The fish eat away at the body which sometimes float to the surface. He also tells me that the other side of the river is littered with skeletons. That's why you can see the vultures over there.

It's another new day; I'm going to one of the ghats a short walk along the river. I've been told you can see them burning the dead.

The closer I get I see the smoke rising; there is the smell of singed hair.

I walk up into the town away from the river. The pathways are narrow, not wide enough for a car. Everywhere I look I see timber piled high.

From around one corner come a lot of people. They are carrying a stretcher with a dead woman, she looks very old. I have to push myself against the wall of a shop to let them pass by. The body is no more than two feet from me; she looks very much at peace.

The group pass me chanting some noise; I'm released from my position against the shop wall.

I carry on walking the narrow pathways until I find myself back at the river. Looking down I see a funeral pyre, upon it a stretcher with a body.

Was this the one that had passed me earlier?

I move to a position where I think I'm hidden, perhaps I can take some photographs.

I sit and watch, a young man comes and joins me. He starts to tell me what is happening.

The body is taken to the river and dipped into the water several times. After some chanting the body is placed on the pyre. A young man with shaven head circles the pyre several times in a ceremonial way. Finally the time comes; the young man sets fire to the pyre.

The fire is burning well; the body also starts to burn, all very visible. Next there's the smell of hair and maybe flesh burning.

The young man sat next to me says,

"would you like take a photo?"

"Is it possible?"

I reply.

He tells me it will be OK.

I start to walk away from the cremation site. After two hundred metres I hear a voice calling me. I turn around to see the young man who was sat with me, running in my direction.

He catches up with me. He tells me he wants some money for the photographs or he will go and tell the family. We argue but its no good he still persists.

We are stood out in the open. I tell him to follow me to a hidden area by a wall. Once there I look around, deciding no one can see us.

I turn to him offering a few coins. He puts out his hand to accept, at this point I head butt. I make contact with his nose, he falls in a heap. I throw the coins onto him leaving him there.

My time here is finished; tomorrow I go to Agra by train. It will not be so intimidating this time.

I had a good nights sleep. I spent the day relaxing; now I'm sat here on the station waiting for my train. I look down; around my feet are two rats.

That made me fucking jump.

Soon my train is approaching the platform, not the mad chaos that I witnessed in Calcutta.

The train starts moving slowly out of the station, all of the sights and sounds being very familiar to me.

~~~~~

Chapter 21

_Home of the Taj_

It's early morning, the train pulls into Agra station. The trip was fine, very little sleep, plenty of very sweet milky tea, and cucumber.

I get off the train and make my way out of the station. Once outside I'm greeted by taxi drivers, tuk tuk drivers, who all tell me they can be of assistance.

I've no idea where I'm going to stay, so I'm relying on one of these drivers to help me.

"They will take you to a place they know, a guest house where they will get a tip from the owner".

I'm approached by several of these drivers, I ignore them all. I walk to one tuk tuk driver; I ask him if he knows a good guest house. He tells me he does, my next question is how much is the fare? The price he tells me sounds very reasonable, I jump in and we are soon on our way.

We arrive at the guest house, which they claim on the sign is a hotel.

Inside the reception I meet Muhammad. He shows me a room, the price is what I would expect, 50 rupee. There's a very old air conditioning unit.

Does it work? they tell me yes.

I take the room and return to reception with Muhammad.

Inside the reception I find the tuk tuk driver. I pay him his fare and thank him for his help.

It is still early morning; I start to walk around the area. I find a place to rest and eat some food. Well I'm eating I start to think,

where is the Taj?

I don't have a guide book. I prefer to ask people like fellow travellers or locals. I did have a book for Fiji which someone gave me, but here nothing.

I get back to the guest house; I find Muhammad there with another man. We all start to talk. I find out that these two are brothers, and it's a family hotel belonging to their father.

They tell me they are Muslim, not Hindu, and the tuk tuk driver is a very good friend of the family.

I ask them how far the Taj is. They tell me I will need to get the tuk tuk driver to take me.

Evening arrives, it's still very hot. Muhammad tells me that they sleep on the roof. I ask him if I can go onto the roof, he tells me it's no problem.

On the roof I find a few mattresses thrown around. I look across to where I see a lot of buildings. Muhammad joins me; he tells me the buildings are where the Taj is located. It doesn't look that far away, but distance can be deceiving.

The sun finally sets, everywhere is dark. I notice a glow a short distance in front of me. I try to make out what it is but it's to dark.

I decide to get some sleep. I enter my room, it's fucking hot. I turn on the air con unit, it has very little effect. Finally I must have fallen asleep, because I just remember waking the next morning.

I grab some breakfast at the guest house. I've asked Muhammad if he can call the tuk tuk driver. I want to visit the Taj today.

Half hour goes by; I hear the pop pop sound of a tuk tuk. Muhammad tells me this is my driver.

This is the same guy that brought me here. He tells me his name is,

"Sanjay".

I in return tell him,

"I'm Seb".

Introductions complete, I'm sat in the back of the tuk tuk. With great interest I watch Sanjay negotiate the traffic, and the cows.

I ask him if he were to hit a cow would it be a problem. He tells me that it could be, depending where you are at the time.

We arrive at Agra Fort. I've decided to start here because you can get your first view of the Taj across the marshes. Sanjay is going to wait for me outside.

I wander around the fort, there's some beautiful architecture. I climb a set of steps, when I get to the top I get my first sighting of what I've come to see. Through an ornate arched window, I get my first view of this beautiful building.

Back in the tuk tuk, Sanjay takes me to the entrance gates of the Taj.

Soon I'm in possession of my entrance ticket; I make my way into the gardens.

I stand and stare at the white marble mausoleum.

"Yes the guy built this for his wife",

looks absolutely fantastic.

I spend the next few hours taking photographs and wandering about the gardens.

Tonight I'm going into town with Muhammad; he wants to take me on his motorcycle.

Seven o'clock arrives, so does Muhammad.

His bike is an Enfield of India. It looks like a Triumph Tiger Cub, which was a typical style for bikes of the sixties in England. The sound of the engine was a deep,

thud, thud, thud.

I get on the back; we weave our way towards the town centre.

There are occasions when we are so close to the other cars and buses that I think I'm going to have my legs ripped off.

We reach our destination intact, it's a juice bar, and it's full of people. Muhammad tells me that the people like to spend their evenings here.

Like we go to the pub I suppose.

It was a good evening, and we did get back safely to the guest house.

I try to sleep, but tonight it's very hot. I drag my mattress outside the door, sleeping under the stars, mosquitoes or no mosquitoes.

Today I've been invited by Sanjay to visit his family home.

We do a short journey of maybe thirty minutes in his tuk tuk. I find myself in a village location, in some nice countryside.

I go into a compound; there are rooms on three sides. The hospitality is good. I'm introduced to various adults and children. Some are family, some are friends.

Time passes quickly, we go outside the compound. Sanjay wants to introduce me to the local holy man.

We walk around to the back of a few houses; I get my first view of this Sadhu. He's sat cross legged on a bed; he's surrounded by other people, follower's maybe.

We walk over; Sanjay introduces me to the Sadhu and the various people surrounding him. His hair and beard is very long and unkempt.

Sanjay tells me that he sleeps on this bed in the open; he gets his food from the people.

I notice that he's smoking a big joint, tucked under the mattress is a bottle of spirit, like a whiskey.

This guy is having a good life. He smokes pot and drinks spirits, the locals feed him, all in the name of god.

Tonight I'm sat outside having a cold beer when a man arrives on a bicycle. Muhammad tells me he's going to do some electrical work.

On the back of the bicycle is a small bag. The man removes a pair of pliers and a lamp holder, complete with lamp. He places the lamp holder around his neck.

I ask Muhammad what he's going to do. I'm told that he's going to connect another phase into the guest house.

The glow I'd seen the other night was the overhead cable supplying the guest house, it seems to be overloaded.

I watch with interest. The brothers make their way across the road carrying a very old metal ladder. They reach the overhead electricity pole; they put the ladder up against the pole.

The man who arrived on the bicycle joins them. After a short conversation the man starts to climb the ladder. He reaches the top; he's now in a maze of cables and connections.

After a minute or two there's a small shower of sparks, he's working on live connections and the ladder he's using is metal.

Slowly the sky darkens, now I can't see him it's to dark.

Every so often there's another shower of sparks. They seem to be getting bigger, like a firework display.

Finally the man walks back up the drive to his bicycle. He puts his tools in the bag. After a short chat with Muhammad, he rides off into the night.

I call Muhammad over. I ask him if the man works for the government electricity company. He tells me,

"no".

The man managed to connect the other phase at his peril, and illegally.

I'm going back to the Taj today, it's Friday which is prayer day and entrance is free.

Showered, and with breakfast finished, I start my walk. I've decided to go by foot instead of tuk tuk; it should only take about twenty minutes.

The walk is very easy; I arrive at the entrance. The queues are short, I'm soon inside.

When I see the Taj again its effect on me is the same, it's a fantastic sight to see.

People come here to see sunrise and sunset. The marble changes colour with the changing of the sun.

I spend a few hours walking and sitting in the gardens of this very peaceful place.

I stay here a few more days relaxing, before my next journey. That will be a train to New Delhi, and the final leg of my trip.

I'm waiting on the platform, ticket in hand, New Delhi next stop.

Also waiting are a few other travellers, a Kiwi, a Brit, and a guy from Germany.

The Kiwi produces a small ball from his luggage and we start to play football. We use a set of doors for the goal. It doesn't take long before the ball is on the track. The Brit jumps down onto the line and retrieves it.

"People seem to walk freely on the lines; it's common to see people cross from one platform to another this way".

The game recommences. We've been playing for sometime when an Indian gentleman approaches us.

He politely inquires if we could move along. He tells us his wife isn't well, she's just had surgery. We look to where he's pointing, there's a lady on a stretcher by the side of our goal. We hadn't noticed this poor lady. The game stops, he thanks us very much.

The train arrives. I watch this poor lady being carried on by her relatives. If she was in England she would still be hospital.

I enter the train, New Delhi next stop.

The journey is short, within three hours the train is pulling into the station in New Delhi.

My plan is to spend a few days here. I will then get a bus to Shimla. Originally I wanted to go to Kashmir, but the military are not letting traffic through due to a bomb attack on the main highway.

I had a good few days exploring the capital. Today I'm on the bus to Shimla, which I think will take nine hours.

The bus arrives in Shimla at six in the evening so I still have some light. Shimla is like Darjeeling, it was a summer retreat for the British to escape the heat of the plains. Like Darjeeling it's at altitude.

I find a small guest house; I will spend two nights here.

It's a new morning, I did sleep well. I think the long bus journey is responsible for that.

Breakfast finished, I'm on a local bus to a temple. A short time passes and I reach my destination.

I spend a few hours taking photographs and watching the people bathe and pray.

Time passes by; I get the bus back to the centre. There's no where to sit, the driver just keeps picking up more and more people. Now everyone is jammed in, I can't move.

I keep my bag to the front of me for security.

The bus reaches the centre and I manage to get off.

I start to check my bag, fuck it my camera is missing. I forgot to put it in the middle pocket which I was protecting. The camera was worth very little, but the photographs are priceless to me.

Back at the guest house, I keep thinking of the photographs I've lost. When this happens, you have very bad thoughts of what you would do to the thief.

Tomorrow I have to get back to New Delhi; I have a flight in two days time.

The trip back to the capital went well; I'm back in the same guest house in New Delhi.

I will go to bed early tonight, tomorrow I fly back to London.

India is a fantastic place, I will definitely return one day.

Statistics for the trip were:

52 Different beds used, (not including trains and buses).

22 Different hotels. 04 Beach bungalows.

15 Hostels/backpackers.

05 Different airlines.

13 Different flights.

16 Different airports.

04 Train journeys.

38 Coach journeys, (not including local buses).

02 Boat journeys.

20 Different customs and immigration borders.

What a fucking load of useless information.

~~~~~

Chapter 22

I Need Money

Well here I am in England again, how depressing. I have a priority of things to do, first get somewhere to live, then a job and last get a car. Once I've completed these tasks, I will visit my cottage in France.

I've been staying with an old friend of mine for the last three weeks, now I can finally move into my little room in a shared house.

I've also found work in a town called Malvern. I was living near the town before my marriage broke up, so I have a lot of contacts in the area. The job is for the local housing association, doing maintenance on their properties.

One month has gone by; I'm taking three weeks off work to visit my cottage.

I took the night crossing; I've been driving since seven this morning. I should reach the house in about two hour's time.

I enter the lane and drive down towards my cottage. I turn into the drive, to my surprise Michel is there doing a little grass cutting.

When they know you are returning, they come and do some work. I remember when David was away, his builder was never there. Two days before his return the builder would start working again.

Michel tells me that everything is good and he was paid by Amelie.

I unlock the door and find everything looking good, a few cobwebs but things look fine.

After unloading the car, my first job is to make the bed. Sheets in place I go to the chest where the quilts are stored. It's slightly open, which is not a good thing. On closer inspection I find the mice have been inside chewing the bedding.

Shit.

The bed is made; the stomach is full of food. The rest can wait until tomorrow, it's a long journey and I'm tired.

Breakfast finished I go to the town. I need to let Amelie know I'm here. I make a call, she tells me she will be coming over later.

I go to the supermarche and get some supplies and then I drive back to the cottage.

I while away the day reading a novel, waiting for my beautiful French lady to arrive.

It's now three o'clock in the afternoon. I hear the sound of a car travelling towards my cottage. It turns into the drive and comes to a stop. Out gets my beautiful Amelie.

We greet each other with a very passionate kiss which carries on into the cottage, then into the bedroom.

We've undressed each other, the love making is intense. We both climax together and then lie side by side with sweat dripping from us.

We both get dressed; I keep looking at her curvaceous body. It still looks so good.

Sat on the veranda she asks me about the trip, what I had done well I was travelling? I in turn ask her what's changed in her life.

I thank her for looking after the cottage.

I go into the kitchen, returning to the veranda with two large glasses of red Bergerac wine. Passing one to her I return to my seat.

We start the conversation again, it's at this moment I drop the bombshell.

I say to her,

"Amelie I don't want to be with you any more",

she looks a bit shocked.

She asks me why I've made this decision. I can't answer her because I don't know myself, it was just impulse.

She asks me why we made love if this was going to happen, again I could not answer her. When we were making love this was not in my mind.

Our wine is finished; there are no tears in our eyes.

Amelie goes to her car; she starts the engine and drives off down the lane.

The evening is difficult. Sat on my own, I keep thinking of what I've thrown away, but I must be strong, I need to start anew.

The next three weeks I work on the cottage and drink my whiskey at night. Things are just like they were one year ago.

One thing that's different now is I need money. Back in England I'm working long hours trying to save enough to go and spend a longer period in the cottage and finish the renovations.

I've been in contact with quite a few of the people I met on my round the world trip.

One is the German girl Felicie; I was with her in Adelaide. She wants to visit me. I explain to her that she would be very welcome. She can stay with me but I only have one room.

"Everyone shared rooms together, so this is not a problem for her".

I tell her she can have my bed, I will sleep on the floor. She has no problem with this. She will let me know when she has found a ticket.

One week passes and I hear from Felicie. She will be coming next week. She gives me a date, time of arrival and airport, which is Birmingham International. This is closer for me to drive to than the London airports.

I'm taking one week holiday leave from work. I've just arrived in the terminal building.

Felicie's flight has arrived so she should appear very soon. I watch the people coming through the exit, then I spot her, she in turn catches sight of me. Once through the barrier she runs up to me, giving me a big hug.

On the drive back we chat about Australia, the people we had met and where we had both gone after we departed Adelaide.

We arrive back in the town; I give her a little tour pointing out a few places of interest.

We get to the house I'm sharing and go to my room. It's a small room but she's very happy with it.

The night is spent drinking in a few bars. I really like this girl; she's good fun to be with.

We get back to the room, it's nearly midnight. Felicie undresses with no inhibitions and jumps into bed. I lie on the floor by the side of the bed with my sleeping bag.

The light is out, I put my hand up to find her hand. We talk, during the conversation I ask her if I should get into bed with her. She says,

"yes I want".

We strip off the little clothing we are wearing. I start to touch her body, her breasts are well formed. The rest of her body also feels good, but it should be, she's only twenty one years old.

She kisses me all over, then gets on top of me. Grasping my cock in her hand she puts it inside her.

The love making is slow and sensuous. Every movement she makes gives me a fantastic tingling sensation.

Her movements become quicker, her nipples are very hard, she is reaching her paradise. With one last thrust she gives out a big whine, this brings me to my paradise. My sperm enters her, which makes her whine even more.

During the rest of her stay I take her too many places on the tourist circuit. Every spare minute we have we make love; it gets better with each session.

Today I have to take Felicie to the airport but it's to early yet.

Felicie comes back from taking a shower; she removes her towel and jumps on the bed.

We both hug each other, then she pushes me back. Her lips kiss my body slowly reaching my cock; with a few strokes of her tongue it's quickly erect. Slowly she takes it into her mouth and starts giving me oral sex. The feeling is good, I soon feel myself coming. I tell her but she refuses to stop, I release into her mouth, she swallows every bit. I will miss this girl.

The journey to the airport takes just over one hour; we park the car and go into the terminal. She checks in and we just wait for the inevitable.

The call is made for her flight. We kiss and hug each other, she starts to cry. This makes me very sad. She goes through the doors glancing behind; she gives me a wave and then disappears. Will I ever see her again? I'm not sure.

It's been a few weeks since Felicie went home, I keep thinking about her. We've chatted to each other; she seems to be getting on fine.

Work is going well; the job is very easy and interesting. I'm meeting lots of divorced women who seem very friendly.

One afternoon I'm doing a small repair when the lady from the house next door asks me if I could do some work for her. She purchased her house from the association so it's now private. I tell her I still have work to do; I will call in this evening.

The working day is finished, I want to go home but I need to go and see this lady.

I knock on the door, I'm introduced to Celia. She invites me in and we discuss the work she wants me to do. Everything finalised including the cost, we sit down and have a cup of tea.

Well we are chatting a girl in her twenties walks into the room, red hair, good body and pretty face.

Is it the daughter?

I'm introduced to her by Celia. It's not her daughter; she lives next door in another house belonging to Celia.

Her name is Maria; she's at university training to be a teacher.

Maria tells Celia that there are a few things needing repairs in the house next door. Celia asks me if I would mind taking a look and give her price.

Tea finished I go to the house where Maria lives. I knock on the door; this sexy red haired lady appears and beckons me in.

She shows me the work which is very minimal, should take no more than thirty minutes. I think she just wanted to get me around here for chat.

We sit on the sofa together and chat. She offers me a cup of tea which I decline. She tells me that she's looking after two Down's Syndrome girls. For doing this she gets free accommodation from Celia. I need to leave so I say goodbye.

I return to Celia, I tell her there's no charge for the bits and pieces that are to be done next door. This makes her happy. I also tell her I will return in a few days to do the work, which will be on Saturday.

The place I'm renting contains some very strange people. There's a young lad in his mid twenties, a girl of the same age who is a big animal lover, it's very easy to upset her. There's a guy who stays in his room and never comes out and another old man who is probably the best of them all. But the room is good, it's cheap and you can park off the road.

Saturday, I'm just completing the work in Celia's house. Everything went well so I've made some good money. Celia pays me, and I move on to see Maria.

The door opens, there she is looking good. Within thirty minutes I've finished the work. I want to sit down and find out more about this girl.

We finally exhaust our conversation, I tell her I must go now. She thanks me for the work done. On my way out I ask her if she would like to have a drink, if so give me a call. She just smiles and says nothing.

It's Saturday evening, one of the house mates shouts,

"Seb there's a call for you".

I pick up the receiver, it's Maria. She says,

"Seb were you serious about that drink?"

I tell her I was absolutely serious. After a short conversation I put the phone down, we have a date tomorrow evening.

Wow.

This morning I've been working, so tonight I'm looking forward to a beer with Maria.

When I arrive the door is open. I walk up the garden path, before I get chance to knock on the door out comes Maria to greet me.

She looks great, very colourful, a punk look I think. She invites me in, there are two girls waiting to meet me, it's the girls she's looking after.

After introductions we leave the house. We drive to a near bye pub with a nice garden to sit in. The evening is a rare English summer evening, warm with a light sky. We drink and get to know each other, but quickly the time passes.

I drive us back to her house. She invites me in for coffee, which I'm going to accept. I want to stay longer with this girl.

Inside we find the place is empty, the two girls have gone to bed.

We sit on the floor coffee finished. I look at her, I realise I would like to kiss her but we have only just met. Do I try, or will it be the end of the relationship? to hell lets try.

I lean forward; almost simultaneously she does the same. Our lips touch; we are soon giving and getting passionate kisses.

My hand moves inside her tee shirt, there's no resistance. I lift her bra; I feel very solid breasts with small nipples. The temperature's starting to rise; my hand moves down and unzips her jeans. Slowly I push my hand down inside to feel a soft shaven pussy, there's still no resistance.

She makes her first move and starts to unzip me. Moving her hand inside my jeans, she starts to massage my cock.

We start to undress each other. We just touch and stroke until I finally enter her, the love making is good.

We have finished it's time for me to go. We arrange to talk tomorrow, I will call her.

Over the next few weeks I would go and see Maria after work and at weekends, she would also come and stay with me.

The relationship was growing stronger and stronger.

I did spend some nights at her house, but Celia was giving her problems. She was telling her she shouldn't have men in the house. Maria told me that Celia was jealous, she also liked me.

One weekend Maria was staying with me, we discussed the possibility of moving in together. I told her if she could find somewhere in Malvern, that would suit both of us. It would save me travelling every day.

It's three weeks later, I get a call from Maria and she sounds very excited.

When I ask why she's so happy? she says,

"I've found an apartment for us".

I was surprised, she had worked very fast.

After viewing the place, I was very satisfied with what she had found for us both.

Living with Maria was great fun. We would make love any time of the day; it was never just for the bedroom.

One weekend she took me to stay with two of her friends in Brighton. I was forewarned that they were lesbians.

On the way there we parked in a lay-by and went into the wood. We made love against a tree, it was so spontaneous. We were only some fifteen metres from the road, the vegetation was very sparse. Cars were speeding by, I'm sure we could be seen.

We arrive at her friend's house; I'm introduced to Angie and Caroline.

First thing I notice is that one looks like a man in appearance. The hair is cut short like a man, even dressing like a man. The other is very feminine.

I thought these people only like their own gender, if that's so why does one take on a male role?

One day Maria takes me to a wood belonging to the National Trust. We walk along the foot paths, very nice exercise and fresh air. Little did I know there was more exercise to come.

We return to the car which is parked in the visitor's car park. I ask Maria if she's ever made love in a car, she says,

"never".

Another bit of spontaneity. I sit in the front passenger seat, both with our jeans removed we start to make love.

Suddenly we hear voices; it's a lot of people returning to their cars.

Shit.

I look at Maria's face, her glasses are pushed to one side and her eyes look glazed, I think she was enjoying. This starts me into laugh mode, Maria quickly follows.

We decide to do nothing.

"If you see a couple fuckiing in a car, do you go over and tell them to stop? no you ignore".

The cars drive away, we finish what we started.

We spend a good weekend with the girls. They had their little disputes like any married couple.

Life was good; I was enjoying the company of this girl. I had met her parents and brothers. The relationship was getting well cemented, could it be marriage?

I took her to my cottage in France, she met everyone there. Her mother and father also made a visit.

One evening we go to La Trellis in Bergerac. I park the car and we start to walk over to the restaurant.

I looked up to Amelie's window, to my surprise she's there looking down at me. When she realises I can see her, she disappears behind the curtain.

After the meal we walked back to the car, she's there again. Was she jealous or just inquisitive?

Back in Malvern my life is work, work, work. Every three weeks I would be on call.

On one occasion I'm called out at three in the morning, no electricity. Fortunately it's only five minutes away.

"Sometimes the call out could be a forty five minute drive".

When I get to the house a lady in her sixties opens the door. I quickly diagnosed the problem; her iron is tripping out the earth trip. Why the fuck she's ironing at three in the morning I don't know.

Other times women would come to the door partly clothed. They call you out night or early morning, they know you are coming and they stand there part naked. This worries me; they could make all sorts of accusations.

Recently I'd been thinking about my cottage. I wasn't getting the use out of it. I had originally bought it with the idea of living there permanently, not as a holiday home. After a lot of thinking I made a decision, I will sell.

One evening I sit down with Maria, I tell her about my plan. I explain to her I will be gone for about four weeks providing everything goes well.

She can't get the time off so will not be able to join me, but she is fine with this.

When do I go, within the week I hope?

~~~~~

Chapter 23

Return to France

I have taken four weeks away from my job; will this be enough time to do what I have to do? I don't think so.

The drive down is no longer the enjoyment it once was, this is why I think it's time to sell.

I arrive at the cottage, soon everything is in order, bed made, food, and wine in the fridge.

Tomorrow I start.

Today my first stop is Pierre the agent I bought the house from. He tells me he will send someone around this afternoon.

I start to meet people I've known during my time here, some are friends others are just acquaintances. I tell them that I'm selling the cottage and furniture. I want to take very little back with me.

When I arrive back at the cottage, I find Michel there doing the grass cutting. I tell him that I'm selling the house, but I'm sure anyone buying will require his services.

Lunch finished I start to look through the contents of the cottage. I've hired a Transit van so I will need to sell most of the furniture. The rest will go to auction in England.

I hear the sound of a car. I go outside and pulling into the drive is the agent's representative, a lady.

I hope she speaks English.

Photographs taken, measurements complete, we sit and chat over a glass of wine. Her valuation is a little less than I had expected, but there's still work to finish. I don't think you could sell a house in England that was incomplete, but here it's no problem.

We have arranged to hide the key in a safe place; if I'm out she can still have access to show prospective buyers.

Tonight I will sit on my veranda drinking my whiskey. Today was good, progress was made.

It's a new day. I've finished breakfast, and visited the supermarche to get some boxes. There are some things I want to take back to England which are not for sale.

Slowly the boxes are filled. My bottle collection is packed, must be over one hundred bottles of different shapes, sizes and colours. I will take my plates and cutlery back; they can be used in England, pots and pans as well. Tools they will have to go back.

There's a knock at the door, it's Simon. He looks surprised to see the boxes. I tell him that I'm moving out, and selling the house. He tells me he's shocked, but I'm sure he already knows. News travels fast here.

I ask him if he would like to take the building materials, cable, cement among other things, which he gratefully accepts.

We sit and have some lunch together. I ask him where Cynthia is. He tells me she is back in England for family business, should be back next week.

With my wheelbarrow loaded with items, Simon makes his way back to his house. He will collect the other things bit by bit.

Tonight I've decided to call Amelie, so before I drink too much I will go into the town.

I get to the kiosk, it's empty. I dial her number, she answers. I tell her what I'm doing. I ask her if she would like to have a drink before I go back to England.

She says,

"that would be nice",

she will call when she has spare time. I hope so.

The evening passes by with good food, wine, whiskey, and music. I find being here on my own is good for mind, body, and soul.

Today the agent brings the first people to view, they are French. After some thirty minutes they go, now I can carry on with my work.

Another knock on the door, this time it's Charles. He tells me that someone in the town told him about my cottage being up for sale. We sit and drink a glass or two of wine, during the conversation I tell him about the furniture that's for sale. He tells me he would be interest in some of it.

After some hard bargaining Charles wants to buy quite a few things. He wants the dresser and table; he will give me the price I paid originally.

The dresser and table are French. I was tempted to take them back and auction them in England. I'm not sure they would reach the price I had paid, so to break even is a good deal. He will also take the bed, and two converted gas lamps.

Providing he doesn't renege on this deal, today is a good day for me.

Over the next week the agent brings more people to view the property, but no one is interested yet. Some of the furniture was collected by Charles, so things are moving nicely.

Today I see David; he arrived back late last night. He's surprised that I'm selling.

He invites me over to his place; he makes a nice pot of coffee. I tell him that I want to sell the items inside; he asks me what's left? I tell him, he is interested in the chaise longue and my petrol garden strimmer. We agree on a price, now I only have a few big items left, which if I fail to sell will fit in the van.

It's Saturday, I think I will go and listen to the live jazz in Old Bergerac; perhaps I will bump into Amelie.

It's a beautiful evening; I'm sat on the wall in the courtyard of the Maison du Vin, watching the band. My memories are going back to the time I met my beautiful French lady. The more I think, the more it hurts. I did love that woman, why did I send her away?

After a few glasses of wine, I feel a whisper in my ear. I turn to see Amelie, she looks stunning. I stand up and give her a kiss on the cheek; she accepts my invitation to sit with me.

We spend the evening chatting about what we both are doing now and what we had done together.

Soon the clock tells me I need to go. I really don't want to leave this lady, but I must. I ask her if she would like to visit me next weekend for some food, without hesitation she accepts my offer.

Today the agent is bringing another person to view, let's see what this one is looking for.

Looking at the inside it looks a little empty. Maybe I should have waited for the sale and then sold the furniture.

The agent arrives; the person viewing is a man. After inspecting the property, he wants to ask me some questions.

He asks me what I have done in the property. I explain to him the work I have carried out. I then explain what I was going to do, and the rough costs of the remaining renovations. He seems very interested, but we will see.

Don't build your hopes up Seb.

The weekend is here, I'm sat on my veranda waiting for Amelie. Perhaps she will not come; she did see me with Maria.

Maybe she was just being polite when she accepted my invitation. I really didn't think about these things, now I have doubts.

She never asked me who the girl was that she saw me with, but then she would be admitting to watching me out of her window.

Ah! I'm thinking too much.

I hear a car, no it's Simon. I think I need a drink.

I return to the veranda, I take my seat, and enjoy my wine.

I hear another car, its Amelie, she pulls into the drive.

She steps out,

wow,

she looks good.

We greet each other with a kiss, I get her a drink.

I lay the table under the vines; we eat, drink, and talk. It seems the perfect setting.

The sky changes to darkness so we move onto the veranda. I put the music on and we carry on with the conversation.

I look at her; I really want to kiss her. I notice she's rubbing my arm, is this affection? I'm not sure.

I lean towards her, I start to stroke her face and then I kiss her lips. She doesn't retreat; in fact her kiss is very passionate.

The evening draws on; we are getting closer and closer. She must want to stay, otherwise she would have gone by now, it's late.

I ask her the question; did she want to sleep here tonight? Her answer was not in words, it was her arms around my neck, and her lips on mine.

We are in my bedroom undressing. She stands there naked, looking so perfect.

She pulls me towards her, our bodies touch. I push her against the wall and enter her. The feeling is good, we fall onto the bed. I'm still inside her; we just make love until we have no strength left in our bodies.

Morning comes, without any hesitation she's on top of me. We make love for what seems a long time.

We get out of bed, shower and have breakfast together.

It was a fantastic night, but that's all it was. I can't get back together with this lady; I have Maria waiting for me back home.

Today it's good news. The agent is coming around; the man seems to have made an offer on the house.

Over a glass of wine, she tells me his offer, it's a little under the asking price. I would not be loosing money, I would break even.

This is good considering the great times I've had here over the last six years.

I tell her that I will accept his offer.

"Unlike England, when both parties agree there's no pulling out, unless you want to loose your deposit".

I ask her about the man? he's Dutch and a wine importer. He wants to do business with the wine makers of Bergerac. The cottage will be for business and vacation.

The agent gives me a paper to sign, the buyers signature is already there. I sign; it's witnessed by my neighbour Simon.

I've sold my house, fantastic.

My stay has been longer than I had expected, but everything is finalised.

I've been to the notaire, contracts are complete. The electricity and water companies have been informed of my departure. Simon and Cynthia will do anything required, like outstanding payment for water, electricity, and local taxes.

I talk to the buyer, he will retain Michel.

The van is full, the cottage is empty. I take one last look inside, and out, it brings back a lot of good memories.

I remember the day the postman came, Amelie and I were making love in the garden.

Ah! just memories now.

I drop the keys off with Simon and Cynthia and say good bye to them. I get into the van and start my long trip to the coast.

I start to think about Amelie, she never contacted me. Maybe she just wanted to fuck, no strings attached.

Fuck it, stop thinking, it's all history now lets see what the future will bring.

~~~~~

Chapter 24

Maria

I'm with my lovely Maria. I think this evening will be a special one; it's a long time since we made love. We will get a takeaway and a bottle of wine, and stay in the apartment.

Last night was very special, we sat drinking and eating, then finally we went to bed, but not to sleep. So today I'm fucking tired.

I need to go to the auction house. I want to get the items booked in for the next available sale day. When I've finished that, I will clean and return the hire van.

My projects for the day are completed, now I will just wait for Maria to finish work. Tomorrow it's back to work, so I want an early night.

Maria arrives home; she looks pretty tired as well. She does her studies during the day and then goes to a job at night to earn money.

We eat and talk about different things. She tells me how her day went, I do the same.

We decide that it's time for bed. Soon we are between the sheets; sleep is definitely not on her mind. This girl is going to kill me.

Time is moving on, I sold the cottage five weeks ago.

We have managed a few weekends away but already I'm getting bored.

I think I have a plan.

Things were getting boring for me, so I put the question to Maria.

"Do you want to go to India for two months?"

She had never travelled before, her answer was,

"yes".

We check when she has a long holiday coming, that's going to be in five weeks time. We will need visas so we will start to put things in motion tomorrow.

The time passed quickly. We had the visas, plane tickets and her holidays had started. It was time to go.

Our flight arrives in New Delhi. I warn Maria what to expect when we get out of the terminal, there will be lots of people. This can be very intimidating if it's your first time.

Formalities finished we walk into the main hall. The glass panels of the windows are full of faces, reaching a height of three metres or more. They must stand on each others shoulders.

We go outside and jump into an old Ambassador. The driver is soon moving out of the airport onto the main highway. He fails to negotiate one roundabout and takes a short cut, straight across.

I turn to Maria and say,

"welcome to India".

The taxi drops us off in the area I asked him to take us. It's two in the morning, but I've already been here before so there's no problem.

Safely tucked up in our bed we both sleep well.

The next three days we spend in the city looking at the palaces and many other things. The other attraction is Wimpy; you get cockroaches with your sandwich.

Tonight we are on the train to Agra; I want Maria to see the Taj.

We pull out of the station and within no time make our first stop. This stop is prompted by the chai wallah shouting out,

"chai chai".

Next the man selling his boiled eggs shouting,

"baldy egg, baldy egg",

followed by other types of hawkers.

The journey is spent chatting and being fed by our fellow Indian passengers, and of course the stops every half hour.

Sleep, we did get a little, but that can wait.

We've arrived in Agra railway station; we make our way to the exit.

Once outside we notice how warm it is, and it's only eight o'clock in the morning.

I get a good price from the tuk tuk driver. Soon we are racing through the streets towards the hotel I've used before.

After a ten minute journey we pull into the drive of the hotel, we are greeted by the two brothers. After a few words we are shown to our room.

I return to the reception, I ask the brothers if they've seen Sanjay. They tell me he's about, so I ask them to tell him to visit me.

Having visited here before, I start to show Maria around the place. She asks me why they are playing cricket this early in the morning. I explain to her that by noon it will probably be forty degrees.

We find a small restaurant and grab some breakfast. Breakfast finished we go back to the room to get some sleep.

We spent the afternoon sitting in the shade, now evening is upon us. We've decided to go and find a good restaurant; we both want to eat some good food.

In the town we find what looks like a good place. It's full of local people not tourists, so it must be good.

Our hunch was correct, the food was fantastic and the evening was spent chatting to the locals.

We return to the hotel, one of the brothers tells me that Sanjay will come tomorrow morning at nine o'clock.

This is good, he can take us to the Taj.

Once in the room we strip naked, it's to hot to sleep with clothing or the sheets on. The fan blows warm air onto us; it has no effect in cooling us down.

This doesn't deter Maria from wanting to make love, this girl is incredible.

We both slept well and breakfast is finished, we are just waiting for Sanjay to collect us.

Sat outside the hotel entrance, I hear the familiar noise of the tuk tuk engine. Into the drive comes Sanjay, right on time.

Big hugs are exchanged, I introduce Maria to him. After a brief chat, I ask him if he will take us to the fort first.

I want Maria to see the Taj from there first, like I did.

We could walk, but I want to help this guy, he is a good friend.

Once inside the fort we slowly make our way around. Finally we are looking out across the marshes towards the Taj. I've done this twice before, but it still gives me a fantastic feeling to see this view, it's so beautiful.

Back in the tuk tuk with Sanjay we are heading to the Taj. This guy really throws this little machine about, dodging between cows, people and bicycles. I sometimes wonder if we are going to get through the gaps, but his judgement is perfect.

We arrive at the gates and make our way inside. We enter into the grounds and Maria gets her first sighting of this beautiful building.

We spend hours walking, sitting and taking photographs.

Maria sits on the seat with the Taj behind her. We have the exact same photograph that was taken of Lady Diana.

It was a great day today; Maria really enjoyed what she saw. I did too; I never get bored of seeing this building.

We spend the evening relaxing at the hotel drinking a few beers. The brothers have invited us to join them for some food.

It's a new day, we are just going to walk a little and relax. Tonight Sanjay wants us to visit his house and meet his family.

The evening arrives, so does Sanjay. After a thirty minute journey we arrive at his house.

The building is single storey with a central courtyard. Once inside the courtyard, we are greeted by what must be twenty or more children and some adults.

Once the introductions are finished, Sanjay explains to us that there are his brothers and himself, which total six, and his parents. Each has a single room onto the courtyard. These rooms are small and are occupied by Sanjay his wife and three children, same for the other brothers.

Earlier in the day we bought fresh fruit for the children. We hand it to them; it was like we had given them something special, they are really happy.

Sanjay sits us down on a carpet in the courtyard; we are joined by everyone else.

Several plates of food are put in front of us, Sanjay tells us to start eating.

I notice no one else is eating, Sanjay tells me guests first. I felt that something was not correct here, so I told them we were full and thank them very much.

What I'd been thinking was correct. There was no more food to come, this was all of it. If we'd kept eating, there would have been nothing left for everyone else.

The rest of the family tuck into what is left of the food.

The night passes quickly, we get some great photographs.

Back at the hotel, Maria and I discuss what had happened. These people with very little gave us their food, even if it meant they would have none.

We spend the next few days enjoying Agra. The place can be hot, but it's a good place to stay.

Our next destination is Rajasthan, first stop the city of Jaipur. The city I read is the capital of Rajasthan. It's also called the Pink City, due to the pink stone colour of many of the buildings.

Here there's a wealth of architecture to explore, from temples, to palaces, to forts. We spend three days just wandering around sight seeing.

In this city Maria gets Delhi Belly. She comes out of the bathroom crying. I ask her what the problem is. She says,

"I have got an upset stomach".

I tell her not to worry, it happens. She thinks she has let me down.

This afternoon we've arrived in Udaipur, the City of Lakes.

Within no time we find our accommodation, it's a very old building. Walking through the entrance we find ourselves in a courtyard. Looking up there are three floors, all having a balcony with carved stone balustrade.

We are taken to a room, inside is a very large double bed, a clean bathroom with a hot water heater,

will it work?

and large flagstone floor. All of this for the sum of 55 rupee, that's £1.

So fucking cheap.

First thing is to see if we can get a drink. We are told there's a roof area with restaurant, that's our next stop.

We reach the top of the staircase, walking out onto the roof we are greeted with hot sunshine.

Up here we have a fantastic view of the lake, Lake Pichola I think it's called.

Looking out into the lake we see a beautiful white building, it's like a palace. I will have to find out what it is.

We take a seat and enjoy a cold drink. We realise what a wonderful place we have found.

Evening is upon us and we will eat food on the roof. They prepare curries so it should be good.

I go into the bathroom first,

eureka,

the heater is working.

I look at the electrical connections, it really looks dangerous. When we shower we turn it off.

I'm on the bed naked watching Maria have her shower. The way she soaps herself down gives me an erection.

When she comes back into the bedroom, she looks at my cock and quickly starts to eat it. Spontaneity again, we make love before evening meal.

We go up onto the roof, the scene is fabulous. The moon reflects on the lake and illuminates the hotel.

"Yes it was a palace but it's now a five star hotel".

The natural lighting gives a reflection of the hotel in the lake.

The kitchen is small, eight feet by eight feet; it's to one side of the roof. The food that comes out of there is fantastic. We both have a vegetable curry, total cost £1. The food, the scenery, the company, is just wonderful and it doesn't cost the earth.

Today we just wandered around the city looking at the palace and finding out more about this place.

We stumble cross a restaurant; we go in for a drink. Well we sit drinking a Limca, I notice a poster. It's advertising Octopussy, the James Bond movie. It's shown here in the restaurant every evening at eight o'clock.

What the fuck for?

After making a few enquires, I found out that the movie, or some of it, was filmed here.

Since we arrived here, I've seen a dramatic change in Maria's ways; she wants to make love all the time. I wake in the morning and she's already working on me. When we shower she wants sex, when we go to sleep she wants sex, she's killing me.

Tonight it's another fantastic evening on the roof. We eat good food and enjoy each others company so much.

Sat up here in the morning sun,

"yes she did fuck me again this morning",

having breakfast we hear a noise.

We turn to see a band of marauding baboons, or monkeys, making their way across the rooftops. They were stealing anything they could find to eat. They were emptying the people's trash cans, just generally running amok. Some people were fighting back, trying to chasing them away, but they just continued to the next roof. It was quite interesting to watch how man and animal live side by side.

We spend a lot of time on this roof just watching the world go by. People doing their daily routine.

On one occasion we watch an elephant, it's fully loaded with some type of grass making the journey through the narrow lanes.

While walking along today we see a barber, he also does head massage. Watching him ply his craft is quite fascinating, he seems to jerk the man's neck and you hear,

crack.

He's asking me if I would like a massage. I tell him no but Maria would. Before she can resist, she's in the chair.

After her ordeal she tells me how relaxing it was and how much she enjoyed it.

We've spent six fantastic days here in Udaipur. It's a beautiful place but we have to leave.

Our next stop was Jodhpur. We stayed there for three days, looking at the Mehrangarh Fort among others things.

Tonight we've reach Jaisalmer, it's dark so we can't see much of the place. The journey to get here was interesting; it's a lot of desert.

There are a few boys hanging around telling you they have cheap rooms, let's try one of them.

We follow him to a small guest house. We check out the room. It's clean, the water is not running but they will bring to the room in a bucket. It's bloody cheap, so the criterion has been met.

After a good nights sleep we start to explore the city, it's in the middle of the desert and very hot.

The people of Rajasthan wear very colourful clothing. The women seem to wear lots of ornate jewellery.

I notice a very strong military presence on the ground and in the air, jet fighters keep passing. I suppose the border with Pakistan is not far away and they are not the best of friends.

We find a restaurant which is looking down onto the square. I'm sat drinking my Limca getting some great photographs. With the telescopic lens, no one is aware that I'm up here taking their photograph.

After our bucket of hot water is thrown over our bodies, we go out and find a restaurant for evening meal.

Talking to a girl in the restaurant, she tells us she returned today from a camel safari. She was sleeping in the desert for two nights; you go there and back on a camel, not really for me. She's also staying in the fort and paying the same price for her room that we are paying for ours. I'm surprised; I thought it would have been more expensive in there.

The night is over; we get back to the room. We are both tired, no I'm wrong. Maria is on top of me, she wants to make love.

Today we go into the fort; this fort is a working town not a tourist attraction. Inside are alleyways which are overhung with ornately carved buildings, there's a Royal Palace and several temples. Photo opportunities are many, inside and outside the forts walls. The view is terrific, you just see into the distance, desert and more desert.

Last night was another nice evening. We went inside the fort to see what it was like at night, and to look at the rest of the city in the dark.

Today we are getting into a Land Rover. It's a local taxi and will take us to a place which is a one hour drive from the city.

The journey goes through the desert. The vehicle is full with locals, doing what? I'm not sure.

I take a photograph of myself; this gets the other people in the back of the vehicle thinking this man must be mad.

We finally reach our destination, which is really a strange place to come to visit, there's nothing here.

We wander around, finally stopping at a water tower.

The construction is a concrete tank on four concrete pillars, it's very high. The concrete staircase spirals around the outside of the structure. I start to climb the stairs, there's no handrail either side. Looking over the edge on both sides combined with walking up a curved staircase, makes for a very strange feeling. I start to get to high and decide to go no further. The view is just mile after mile of desert. I get back down safely and we just wait.

The sun is getting low in the sky; we finally get sight of sand being disturbed. It gets closer until you can see a large herd of camels. They finally reach us and just walk on past.

There's a camel farm near here. The camels leave in the morning spending the day in the desert, they return at this time with no one calling them or collecting them.

Our time in Jaisalmer had come to an end. It was a good place to visit. Our next stop was going to be Bikaner.

We arrived in Bikaner at night, it was dark. We could hear music, when we got closer it was Pink Floyd. We turned the corner to see people sat around small fires keeping warm. Looking closer at them I could see they were Westerners, hippies a thing from the past. It was quite surreal really, seeing these people smoking their pot and Floyd thumping out into the Indian night.

I'd come to experience India, not what I was seeing and listening to.

We didn't stay here, we moved on the next day.

We have arrived in Bombay, our final destination. We have nine days to relax here before our flight back to the UK.

Our hotel is in a fantastic position, a few minutes walk to the Gateway of India and the Taj Mahal Hotel.

We walk the short distance and find ourselves looking out through the Gateway of India. There are Indian and Western tourist, plus the usual parasites of touts and beggars, which any tourist attraction will bring together.

Next we walk to the Taj Mahal Hotel, a very grand building.

There's a very impressive range of expensive cars driving up to the front entrance. Their doors are opened by a concierge wearing traditional Indian costume with turban, which at closer inspection is very dirty.

Inside are the usual plush furnishings that you expect from these places, yet on the streets you have people with nothing to eat, strange world.

We spend the next few days walking the streets of Bombay. We see the people playing their cricket on any green space, the beautiful architecture, parks and many other things.

Going out at night I notice people are shooting up with some drug on the pavements, this I didn't expect to find here.

Another strange thing to see are beautiful young girls dressed very Western in mini skirts. We've only seen women dressed in saris.

Today is not a good day, I'm feeling very unwell. When I was eighteen I was diagnosed with pleurisy, this is the symptoms I had then. As the day progresses I start to feel worse. I will see how the night goes, if I still feel the same tomorrow I will go and see a doctor.

My sleep was not good; I'm feeling shit this morning. Maria asked the man on reception where we can find a good doctor?

We have the address of his surgery, it's just a few minutes walk away.

We arrive at the surgery, within no time I'm having my consultation with Doctor Singh.

After his examination he wants me to have an x ray, which is conveniently in his surgery.

I'm shown to another room, inside is an x ray machine that looks so ancient. I notice on the seat next to me is a manual,

"How to do x rays",

well that gives me confidence.

The door opens, in walks a young man dressed pretty scruffy, wearing trainers.

I think I may well be throwing money away here.

Back in the consultation room the doctor shows me the x ray.

Maybe it's not mine, perhaps he just uses the same one for everybody,

He tells me there's a build up of fluid on the lung; he prescribes me with a strong anti biotic.

I spend my time in bed for a few days.

The big problem is we have a flight in less than a week, if I feel like this I will not be able to fly.

A few days have passed; I feel a little improvement so I'm able to sit down in the entrance of the hotel. I start to chat to an Indian; he has a very good American accent. He tells me that he lives in the US and he's a doctor. I tell him of my illness, he asks to see my tablets. He tells me they are good, a very strong anti biotic, so that's good news.

The tablets are finished, today is our flight back to UK. I feel good, not perfect but I think flying will be no problem.

~~~~~

Chapter 25

My Appointment with Doctor Wong

We've been back in Malvern three weeks, work seems so boring now. I also need to go to the doctor, I want to check up this problem I had in Bombay. Maria is back to her studies and working hard in the evenings.

When you travel it changes your outlook on life so much. When you get back to reality, it's very difficult to return to the mundane way of life you have.

It's another day; I've just come out of the surgery. The Doctor is sending me to the local hospital for an x ray. I need to bring them with me to the surgery as soon as possible.

Strange for the urgency, perhaps I'm dying.

It took me a few days to get the appointment, but here I am in the waiting room of the surgery.

I look around me, some people sit reading the magazines, others are looking so sorry for themselves.

I'm studying the people so much I don't hear the call for me to see the doctor. There's a tap on my shoulder, I'm prompted to proceed to his room.

Back out into the fresh air I start to walk back to the apartment, my mind is thinking,

why do I have to see a Consultant?

Work is going well, it's not a difficult job and I earn good money, so I should count myself lucky really. The call outs still nerve me at times, but they are part of the job.

Today I get some good news; the money from my house sale was paid into my bank in the UK. Simon also phoned, he told me all utilities and local tax have been finalised.

This weekend Maria's parents are coming to stay. The good thing is they go off on their own; we only see them early morning and late evening.

Two weeks have passed; I'm sat in the waiting room at the hospital. I was quite surprised how quickly they gave me the appointment.

Looking at the people, some have serious problems with their lungs. They have small oxygen bottles with them; this is not the way I would like to spend the rest of my life.

I see the consultant, he asks a lot of questions and I am sent for various tests. One of these tests is to blow into a pipe which is connected to a machine, this gives a print out.

I make three separate visits to see the Consultant and take more tests. On the final visit I am given the verdict, I need an operation on my lung.

The Consultant explains to me that I have a chemical deficiency in my body called Alpha-1 anti trypsin deficiency. My body is not producing enough of this chemical which is secreted in the lung, it's hereditary. The operation I need is called a bullectomy, which means part of my lung needs to be removed, deep joy. The operation can't be done here in the city; I will have to go to Birmingham.

Well it was an interesting few hours, now I just wait for the call.

This evening I explain to Maria what they had told me, she seems quite interested.

The weeks go by; finally I have a date for the operation. I discuss with Maria, she will come with me and will then drive the car back.

The day finally arrives, we drive to Heartlands Hospital. This place is a training hospital which means the students can practise on you.

It's three in the afternoon; I sit until six in the evening waiting for a bed. They finally find me one in the section with the women.

I'm still sitting fully dressed; it's now eight in the evening. A nurse finally tells me to get changed.

The sign NIL BY MOUTH is put above my bed, I can't have food or drink.

Nine o'clock in the evening and the surgeon visits me.

He's Oriental, looks like he's just finished his paper round, fuck he looks about fifteen years old.

He asks me,

"do you need this operation?"

This is a strange question to ask me, stupid twat go and ask the consultant.

He tells me that they need a special piece of equipment to do the operation, they don't have it. He's going to ring around the other hospitals to see if they can get it, he tells me he will be back.

That's why he asked me that stupid question, they have fucked up.

I'm sat here with nil by mouth, a fucking surgical dressing gown ready, and the nurses keep coming to me saying,

"Sebastian, are you having the operation tomorrow?"

How the fuck do I know.

Finally Boy Wong comes back; they have failed to find the item they need. He tells me to sleep here tonight; he will let me know if the operation can go ahead tomorrow.

He walks off, that's it.

The nurses still keep asking me if I'm in surgery tomorrow. this is starting to annoy me.

My sleep is not that good; I keep thinking will I be operated on tomorrow or not? When you know what's happening you get yourself ready, but this is a state of limbo.

It's nine in the morning, they've been serving breakfast. I'm still nil by mouth, not even a cup of tea.

The next nurse to ask the question,

"are you having your operation today?"

I'm not sure what I will do.

Nine thirty, here comes Boy Wong.

"Sorry Mr Tims, we will have to cancel your operation".

What a surprise.

I'm back at home with Maria. She had to drive all the way back up to collect me. It's her time, my petrol money, and they don't give a shit.

A few days pass, I'm contacted by phone.

"Mr Tims, is it possible for you to come back tomorrow?"

I tell them yes.

It's another night of getting my mind prepared for this operation; let's hope it's not another fuck up tomorrow.

I'm back in the same ward, but in a section with the men this time.

The sign, the gown, everything is in place.

Here comes Boy Wong.

"Yes you will have your operation tomorrow Mr Tims".

This morning I'm taken down quite early, before eight I think.

We pass through some double doors, there's the anaesthetist.

"Hello Sebastian, I am just going to count to five and you will sleep, one".

Next thing I remember is waking up.

I'm in some sort of recovery room, Maria is with me.

Strange, I'm sat upright.

There's a doctor, I have no idea what he's doing, but it's something to do with my cock.

After one hour I'm back in this world. First thing I notice is a bag with urine in it. Maria explains to me that the doctor was putting a catheter tube up my cock.

I see another bag, it's full of blood. I follow the tube, it goes into my side through a hole it looks horrible.

As the day becomes night I'm starting to feel the pain now, it's very intense. They give me some brown tablets which are pain killers.

Maria left about thirty minutes ago, she stayed here all day bless her. She's visiting tomorrow night.

It's a new morning, I try to eat and drink a little.

I start to ask questions.

What is the bag coming out of my side for? The reply is waste product from the operation.

I notice the other men who have had chest operations have a machine; they can give themselves a dose of morphine to kill the pain.

I ask the sister why I can't have this?, she tells me I had morphine injected into me during the operation, I can't have any more.

The day goes by, soon Maria is back. We talk and she gives me some reading material she's brought with her. Soon it's time for her to leave.

The sister is a black girl; I've always fancied black women since seeing Marsha Hunt sing on Top of the Pops in the sixties. Her hair was afro and she wore a small shirt, when she lifted her arms up her breast would just peep out of the bottom.

I tell the sister that the pain killers are not helping me. She tells me to wait for a moment, she will be back.

After a few minutes she returns wearing latex gloves. She turns me onto my side.

What's she doing?

I feel her finger go up my backside, fuck I didn't like that.

"I can't understand how a gay likes a cock stuck up his arse hole".

She tells me that will solve the problem. She was right I had a good nights sleep.

Today I'm starting to feel good. I've had breakfast and I'm just reading my book, when in comes a nurse with a little dish. She draws the curtains and gets a syringe from the dish. She goes towards my cock.

Please not an injection there.

She grabs the tube and sticks the needle into it.

I tell her I thought she was going to inject me in my cock, she laughs.

She tells me that she will now pull out the tube, it should come out easily. With both hands on the tube, she places a foot upon the bed to gain leverage. I tense myself, fuck this doesn't look easy.

She puts the foot down and laughs, this girl is a comedienne. With one quick pull the tube is out, a strange sensation, but nothing painful.

I'm sat up in the bed, cock out of my pyjamas with a little twenty two year old girl looking at me.

I thank her, she says,

"goodbye".

Today the Consultant I saw in Worcester Hospital tells me that I can go home tomorrow.

There seems to be something happening in a room off the ward. I ask the sister what's happening. She tells me a man is in isolation, he's infected with one of these hospital superbugs.

She returns and gives me one of the local newspapers.

The headline is about a man who went in to have is hip replaced. He got infected in the hospital and died. There was also a woman who went in for lung surgery, she also died.

Fucking hell, it's not this hospital, but it's not far away.

I'm glad I'm out of here tomorrow.

~~~~~

Chapter 26

Boredom is a Curse

I'm back in Malvern, unfortunately with my bag still attached. I've been told that recovery will be twelve weeks. During the time the bag is still in place a nurse will visit the apartment to dress the wound and keep a check on the bag.

The cut was made around the shoulder blade at the back. I enquired why? The response was the heart is in the way, so the front is not possible. I was also told they open the rib cage to get in, quite technical really.

I've had a few visits to the hospital, everything is going well. Today they are going to remove the bag.

I'm taken to a surgical room, I'm told to lie on one side. With one pull the tube is removed, there's a burning sensation. The doctor explains that they do a special stitch; it seals the wound when the tube is removed. These can be removed in a week.

What amazed me was the amount of tube inside my body.

I thought I would contact the employment people. See if I can get some money for being sick and not being able to work. I'm told that I don't have enough stamps.

Fuck I've paid since I was fifteen.

I ask them how they come to this conclusion. They tell me I only have eighteen months, to claim I need two years; apparently the other thirty years don't count.

She tells me that I can claim Income Support. I tell her that's means tested, she says,

"Yes, why do you have money?"

I explain to her I've just sold my house, she tells me to go and buy another one.

Fucking bitch.

I keep getting these employment people asking me to come for an interview, why? they're giving me fuck all.

One day I decide to go and see them, I've nothing else to do.

When I get to the offices I'm told to sit and wait. After five minutes I go into a small office, there's one lady.

Before she can ask me any questions, I start the questioning. I ask her why they keep calling me when I'm receiving no benefit.

I tell her I've had major surgery. I then remove my shirt to show her the scar. I tell her she's seen the proof, now stop calling me.

I walk out and never heard any more.

They just want to pry into your affairs. If they are giving me something then it would be acceptable, but they are giving me nothing.

Twats.

Nine weeks have gone by since my operation; I need to go back to work. They told me I needed twelve weeks to repair, but I feel good now.

I go to see the Doctor; he tells me that if I feel fine then I can go back. That's good I need money.

The following week I recommence work. The first job is going to take three days in the same house.

When I arrive the lady answers the door and invites me in. We discuss what she wants doing; she then offers me a coffee.

We sit and talk; she doesn't seem the type of person to be renting from the association. She speaks very well, sounds like she came from a good family background.

Looking at her she is a very sexy woman.

I spend the next three days chatting to her. When the job is finished I ask her if she would like a drink. she accepts. Having no one to look after the child, it would have to be one evening at her house.

Time passes, I make a few coffee mornings at Cynthia's. It was on one of these mornings we became intimate. Her child was at nursery, so we made some good love.

This became a regular occurrence; we even went out a few lunch times to bars.

One evening I bought a bottle of wine and went to her house.

"I told Maria I was going to look at some work".

We were sat in the lounge when I noticed behind the sofa a box that looked like an alarm. I ask her what it is. what she told me surprised me.

It's a direct link to the police. Her ex, the father of her child, is Iranian; he had beaten her badly on a several occasions. If he comes to give her a problem, she just hits the button and they will be there.

"Wow",

This is reassuring, he sounds like a man possessed. I'm sure if he found me here he would go berserk.

This affair lasted three months, the love making was great, but the box behind the sofa put me off a bit.

One was finished, but there was another one starting.

I'd already started an affair with another woman, her name was Jackie. She was divorced with three children. We were never in a position to make love until now. I went to her house for coffee this morning; we made love on the lounge floor.

Maria and I were still making love like the day we first met; she had no suspicions that I was being unfaithful to her.

I was starting to get bored again. I needed to get away, but a long trip this time.

This evening I sit with Maria, I explain to her I need to go abroad. She tells me it's not problem, she will get a job overseas, we can go together. Her degree is finished so she can start applying for jobs.

Two weeks have gone by, to my amazement Maria walks into the apartment, she says,

"I've got a job in Botswana".

My first reaction is where the fuck is that? but she soon briefs me.

Africa, not a place I've ever wanted to go really.

She will teach in a school there.

The appointment is in three months time. Fuck that's only twelve weeks, we have work to do.

Over a few drinks tonight, Maria and I discussed what we are going to do.

The arrangement we come up with is that she will go out first. I will stay for one month here in the apartment to finalise everything. I will then fly out to Johannesburg, and enter Botswana by road. There's a big price difference in the airline tickets, it's much cheaper to fly to South Africa than to Botswana.

I will stay with her for six months, then I will visit friends in Fiji, this will include dropping off in Australia. This will take six months and then I will rejoin her in Botswana.

Weeks pass by very quickly. She attends a few meetings with the people who are supplying them to the Botswana government. This gives her chance to meet the other people who will be joining her.

The time finally came, Maria had gone to Botswana, I was on my own, well not quite.

For the last month I'm in the apartment Jackie is a regular visitor. Making love with her is good; she's very experienced in all that she does.

The month is up; everything I had to do is finished. Tomorrow I fly from Heathrow.

Jackie pays me one last visit, we make some good love. After she gives me a St Christopher, what a kind thing to do.

Today I'm off to Heathrow on the bus, next stop,

"Africa".

~~~~~

About the Author

Terry Minett was born in Cheltenham England. He has been married three times and has five children. He is much travelled, having circumnavigated the globe twice and visited many countries. He has lived in Zimbabwe, Senegal and Uganda. This book was written in Uganda, during his two year stay there.

*****

To be released soon

A Lonely Man in Africa,

Follow Seb's journey in life as it takes him to the great continent of Africa. The life style remains the same, bars, women, children, as he stumbles around the countries of this gigantic continent.

*****

Other books by this Author

One man's thoughts on Africa

Available at Smashwords:

www.smashwords.com/books/view/389422

Also available at major ebook retailers.

Contact the Author

tcminett@gmail.com

 https://www.facebook.com/terry.minett.7?sk=info&edit=eduwork

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