A sombre day

I went to Auschwitz today.

You've heard it all before, seen it all before, nothing I will describe here about the experience will be very new to you.

Nevertheless, its necessary to state how powerful the experience is, despite knowing beforehand it would be powerful. How can a human ever fathom how such calculated cruelty could be performed by so many humans to other humans? It boggles the mind.

One of the unexpected themes of these travels for me has been human cruelty justified by political or religious rhetoric. I didn't realise when I set out that I would come across so many instances of insanely violent and coldly calculated genocide and repression. I knew I would find it in Russia, but I have found it in Hungary, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland and Bosnia. In each country I have managed to have fun in bars and cafes, but have also explored the historical remnants of a history too obscenely bloody to comprehend. The juxtaposition of lively town squares and beautiful vistas with images of corpses in concentration camps and smoking ruins is startling, and leaves me silent for hours. Auschwitz did that to me.

The day was beautiful: sunny, bright skied, delightful breeze. I'm wandering around a field surrounded by autumnal trees and brilliant green grass. Yet on this very soil 50 years ago, untold agonies were felt. Its a sobering experience - I don't know whether to revel in the beauty of today, or cry for the pain of yesterday.

This is my theory: as a human today, it is our duty to try to understand as much of our global history as possible, to visit these places, ask questions of the locals, read what material you can. By this attempt, we are both offering our metaphoric shoulders for the long-past dead to weep on, and ensuring we teach our children what is necessary so this never happens again. But more so, we need to absorb all this, have a moment to feel sorrow, and then smile. It is our duty to lift our chins high, and vow we will not be broken as humans, and to go out and celebrate life. So many millions have died and suffered because of who they were and a belief that humans should live freely and with abundance in a beautiful world. I firmly believe it is our duty to make their sacrifices worthwhile, by proudly being who we are, and to live with joy and beauty. And as a laugh merrily, or buy pretty clothes, or plan my next holiday, I will silently give thanks that I am so unbelievably blessed that I can do these things without persecution or concern. I will take advantage of every opportunity I can, because I can, and that is a rare and treasured thing. I will aim for as much as I can out of life, because for now, it is delivering, and its worthwhile that someone can enjoy that.

I will live so that their sacrifices were worthwhile. That is my theory for life based on what I have learnt about the suffering of those before me.

Krakow - Nuns, Vodka, Flowers and Tonsilitis

Tee hee.... I went to type in a Title into this blog entry, and it was auto-filled with what some other person using this computer typed in before me... so I thought I'd keep it. Makes for an intriguing juxtaposition of images... nuns, vodka, flowers and tonsilitis... what on earth was this person doing?!

My impressions so far are a little different. My string of words would be: "Corpses, cobblestones, castles and computers". Why?

Corpses
One of the attractions of Krakow is the Church of the Reformed Christ (strange name for a church, eh?), which besides being stunning inside, with its vaulted roof painted with stars and clouds, also has a crypt where dead monks were laid in state. What is absolutely fascinating about this is that for some unexplained reason, instead of decomposing, they mummified themselves! The proposed reason is that the crypt has its own microatmosphere which has kept the bodies from rotting. Tanya and I were curious, so went to have a look, but found the crypt locked. Luckily, a small group of Polish people were also waiting and managed to communicate to us that a monk would soon take them personally down into the crypt. So we waited, and aren't we glad we did! We eventually had a small private guided tour by a monk in a brown tunic (yes, that still wear them!) into a dark vaulted underground crypt with piles of coffins, and a few open ones, where yes indeed, lay corpses, out in the open, there for me to touch if I wanted! They still had skin, albeit black and flakey, and teeth, and fully formed hands. It was the most eerie and intriguing thing I've seen! Wandering about seeing corpses out in the open, that are 500 years old... crazy! Once we finished, the crypt was locked and we left - it was pure chance we were able to see this amazing sight!

Cobblestones
Speaks for itself really - Krakow is a beautiful old city and full of darling cobblestones streets and ancient ornate facades. Its just stunning. Everything you have heard about Krakow is true - its spell-binding.

Castles
This is my favourite story about Krakow so far. As legend has it, the Hindu god Shiva cast to earth seven stones of spiritual power, akin to the chakras in our bodies. They landed in seven places in the world, and bestowed these places with spiritual and restorative powers. One of these places is the north-east corner of the courtyard within the Wawel Castle in Krakow! People supposedly come here and rub their backs to the wall, hoping to glean some of its enlivening powers. However, our tour guide this morning said that some workers restoring the castle accidentally found the stone, and unaware of its legendary status, cast it away casually, lost forever...

Computers
I have been in Krakow a little over 24 hours, and have spent over 6 hours in front of a computer. Why? Because I am the worlds biggest faffer. I faff - as anyone waiting for me to get ready will attest. I have been trying to decide on my Africa itinerary, and have researched so exensively I can tell you the itineraries of every tour offered by every carrier, and have not been able to reach a decision. I decided I would make a decision yesterday, but faffed and researched more... after my first 3 hour stint, I left for dinner in a huff with myself, and said I would wait for a sign... should I do the Geckos tour or the African Travel Company tour? At dinner in the hostel, there were people talking, and I overheard one guy say "Oh, Jane is going to Africa for a safari, isn't that cool!", so I interjected and asked Jane (I'm making up her name): "Oh, who are you going with?". She responded: "With Geckos". I burst out laughing! There was my sign - thank you Powers that Be. So I went down to the Internet Cafe and finalised my entire 2 month itinerary in Africa. A lot of computer time, but a huge sense of satisfaction and closure at the end of it!

Now, surely that is more interesting that Nuns, Vodka, Flowers and Tonsilitis??!

Leithy in Lithuania

Ok - I just had to do an entry taking advantage of the pun potential between my name and the wonderful country of Lithuania. Leithy in Lithuania... how melifluous sounding!

If you had told me anytime before last week that I would not only visit Lithuania, but that I would love it, I would not have believed you. I didn't even know where Lithuania was, nor what was special about it.

But the wonderful thing about travel is that it can be serendipitous, and you end up in places you would never have imagined you'd end up in, and find they were exactly where you needed to be.

I was in Riga with my newfound travel buddies, and Tanya and Jason were keen to go, and I didn't have anywhere better to be, so I decided to tag along with them, and then Adrian decided to tag along too. So our happy little travelling foursome continued a few days more. We bought a bus bound for Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania.

For those who don't know - Lithuania is a little country below Latvia and next to Russia. It is - together with Latvia and Estonia - known as a Baltic State, as its an ex-Soviet state that sits on the Baltic Sea. It has a similar history to the other Baltic States - repression by Communist Soviet party, then by the Nazi German party, then again by the Communist Soviet party... but they have all been recently liberated and are now free sovereign republics. Do you know how they did it - I love this story: two million people from Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania joined hands across 600 miles and sang national songs (that were forbidden by Russia). Its called the Singing Revolution, and it brings tears to my eyes. All three Baltic States have incredible museums dedicated to describing the political, cultural and human impact the repression of the last 50 years has had on their countries. Estonia had videos showing the Singing Revolution; Latvia had the best museum I have been to ever, with so much interesting memoribilia, such clear description of events, and even mock-ups of how the concentration camps were like; and Lithuania had the most disturbing of all, the building of the KGB that was used for imprisonment, torture and executions... I have never felt such a pre-sentient chill as I did when I walked into the Confinement Cell were prisoners were sent before they were to be executed, or when I felt the hole where bullets that had just killed innocent people entered the stone wall. It was eerie, awful, sickening stuff. But so essential - if ever you want to feel humble or put your life's woes into perspective, book a trip to Eastern Europe, and then prepare to be silenced. The terror and inhumanity these countries have seen is more than anything I can imagine. And - I go to Auschwitz and Birkenau tomorrow.

Anyway, notwithstanding the horrific history of these countries, what has impressed me most is the degree of forward-looking going on. Compared to Russia which I found stuck in its horrific past, the Baltic States have shaken off the vomit, taken a few painkillers, and are now well into a recovery. The customer service is superb, the people are happy and positive, they are welcoming tourists and building appropriate infrastructure... its a complete joy to travel around these countries.

And Lithuania - well, it just impressed me. Not so touristy as the others, but very ready for tourists. The best clubs I have been to in Eastern Europe by a long stretch. The most lovely food, cheap and good quality. And I stayed in a wonderfully homey hostel, where we very quickly met everyone, and had a large group of people from all over the world to explore the city and clubs and bars with.
We even did a day trip out to the Hill of Crosses, a surreal spot 3 hours out of Vilnius where people have erected crosses to commerorate their dead. Over the years, millions of crosses stand or hang from other crosses, covering a hill, and creating the most surreal tinkling noise as the breeze moves through the forest of crosses.

During Soviet days, the hill was bull-dozed as the Communists sought to destroy all religious activities (because religion might create a spiritual resistance to their oppression), but each night, unseen people risked their lives and freedom to replant more crosses, in defiance of their oppressors. Its wonderful to stand in a spot where so much emotion and passion has been felt. There is a saying here, that during the oppressive Soviet times, Estonia was the brawn of the resistance, Latvia the brains, but Lithuania was the soul. I loved Lithuania for it.

Russian proverb

The church is close
But the road is icy.
The bar is far away
But I will walk carefully.

Old Russian proverb.

Something in that for all of us. Courtesy of Jason - the most knowledgeable man in the universe, my new gay travel buddy.

Estonian road trip

My previous post proposed that coincidences are not the product of pure chance, but a signpost from the powers-that-be. Here again is another tale of happy coincidences and the adventures they accompany.

It all began when I said I am a fag hag.

My Travel Friends
I had met a lovely Canadian girl - Tanya - on my Russian tour, and as we were planning on travelling through Eastern Europe at the same time, we decided to go together. Along the way we met a charming Canadian guy - Adrian - and the three of us spent an enjoyable day and a half in Tallinn, Estonia, which I heartily recommend to anyone. Its a gem of a teensy city, full of cobblestones, beautiful facades, and funky cafes.

It was in one of these funky cafes that I mentioned my numerous gay friends and my affection for their company. Adrian then raised the fact that there was a gay American guy in his dorm room. I expressed interest in meeting him (after all, it had been a good two weeks I hadn't been in the company of a gay man, I was suffering withdrawals!). So, he kindly arranged to invite the gay guy, Jason, to dinner with us the next evening.

Within minutes, I was cackling with side-splitting laughter. What is it about gay men, they just amuse me so.

Adrian, Tanya and I had been planning on travelling to Riga in Latvia the next day, and discovered its cheaper and infinitely more comfortable to hire a car and drive ourselves rather than go via coach or train. So when Adrian invited Jason to join us on our road trip, we had a ready made group made for fun!

Start of the road trip
The next morning, after only 4 hours sleep (Tanya and I HAD to sample Estonian nightlife the evening before! very fun!), we wake up to a wet grey dreary morning. Not so great. Then we see the car that we were to travel in. Yellow. Bright New-York cab-type yellow. Not so great. We piled into the vehicle, and thus began our road trip from Tallinn to Riga via the Lahmea National Park and Tartu.

After several wrong turns (yes, I was directing, but it was the fault of the maps, they were just so unclear!), we finally made it onto the highway, and progressed through the plummeting rain. Jason thankfully kept us in hysterics - imagine a slimmer Jack from 'Will & Grace' with glasses, and you have Jason. He works for British Airways (of course), but is on his way to Azerbaijan (yes, supposedly it is a country!) to volunteer for the United Nations democratic election supervisory committee... and he speaks fluent German. Handy.

Anyway, we get to the Lahmea National Park, which Lonely Planet assures us is pictureque, but unfortunately on this day was just wet and murky. However, we insist on driving into one of the coastal villages, hopefully to find something to see, and a toilet. Instead, we find everything boarded up for the winter, and desolate (and no toilet). However, we do find a walking trail through the woods, and Adrian (our designated driver) proceeds to insist upon driving down it rather quickly... off-roading Estonian style, apparently. It was the epitome of a modern-day hike, a bush-drive if you will.

Arriving into Riga
Anyway, we eventually accept that the rain will not clear, and abandon any hopes of exploring the national park outside of the car. We drive on to Tartu, through many a funny named Estonian town (think of a cross between Finnish and Russian words, and you have Estonian). We stop for food in Tartu (a pretty little university town), and then head for the Estonian-Latvian border crossing. We get a little lost just before the border, and need to stop to ask for directions. We sidle up in the car to what appears to be a policeman, and I whisper to Jason "Don't be too American!". So Jason begins with "Te're" - the Estonian word for "Hello", and to my surprise speaks in a very even neutral accent. We get guided appropriately over the border.

We eventually make it into Riga, Latvia, in the driving rain and murky darkness. We make an attempt to enter the old town to our hostel, only to find they have exceeded London's Congestion Charge fee, and charge a whopping 5Euros per HOUR to enter the old town. We decide, unsurprisingly, not to enter. Instead we come up with the brilliant idea of all driving to the car drop-off point, then collectively catching a cab to the hostel. Brilliant. On the way to where we think the Agency is, Jason gives directions that turn lead us not onto a road, but onto a tram track... a one-way tram track, with us going the wrong way! Adrian appears to consider reversing, but when Jason said in a flummox "Wrong way... but we'll have a longer way to go if we don't go down this route...", Adrian went off-roading for a second time that day, and accelerated along the cobblestones accompanied by the shrieks of the female passengers! We passed a tram full of people gawking at our little vehicle, but before anyone could notice, we were onto a normal road again.

Returning the hire car
Jason then pulls out the car rental agency address, and informs us confidently its on "Ganibudambis"... which was met with hysterical laughter from the vehicle as we were certain he was simply speaking gibberish. To our immense shock, when we read the street sign, we found that "Ganibu Dambis" was indeed a street name, and we spent the next 24 hours repeating the hilarious sounding street name and falling into giggly piles. However, finding the desired street wasn't enough... we then had to find the Agency. We had the street number, but couldn't find any clear signs for it on the busy wet dark road. We drove up and down a few times, to no avail. We then noticed the alley ways off the main road, so thought the Agency might be located down one of them. We drove down, with trepidation as the dark dingy alley reminded us of those horror movie scenes when cars full of sweet normal people disappear forever. Due to the darkness and rain, we had to travel with our windows down if we were to have any chance of reading the signs we slowly drove past. All of a sudden, my heart stopped! We were being attacked by a white monster!! I screamed in horror! Only to find the white monster was a large ferocious Alsation dog about to leap through my window to devour me! I frantically struggled to wind the window back up, waiting for the frantic dog to jump in and kill me... I made it just in time! Of course, the dog was chained up, but my imagination (and that of everyone in the car) went haywire amidst the scary ambience of the alleyway.

We drove past the dog, further into the alleyway, and found a burly looking man standing suspiciously by a dimly lit door. Our hearts were beating, our nerves told us to turn back, but we were utterly lost, tired, and had no idea where to go. So we sidled up to the man, and Adrian called out "You wouldn't by any chance speak English?", which was met with a look of complete noncomprehension. We were about to collapse in despair, when Jason popped out with "вы говорите русского", or "Do you speak Russian?" as we later found out... yes, indeed, our little gay companion apparently studied russian for two years and could speak it fluently. And as Latvia until 13 years ago was a Russian state, almost everyone can speak it, so we were in luck! The dodgy man and Jason spoke in Russian to each other, and lo and behold, we were given directions that helped us find the Agency!

Jason and Adrian leave us girls in the car (nice and dry, very chivalrous) to go into the Agency to find out what we had to do. They were closed so we were told to organise key drop-off with the night guard. Waiting in the car, Tanya and I started to tell each other urban myths about axe murderers jumping up and surprising people in cars in dark Baltic towns, and managed to work ourselves up into a slight hysteria, when we saw the boys bolting back to us across the car park! We were terrified! Of course, the boys were just running to make us panic... it was all ok.

Jason jumped into the car and said breathlessly: "You wouldn't believe what just happened! We went in, found the night-guard, and I asked him if he spoke English. And would you believe it, the man looked blankly at me and said 'Seulement français!'. What on Earth is a frenchman doing in Latvia?!". "So what did you do??" I urgently asked, praying that the drama was soon to be over. "Well," Jason said, "I asked him to order us a cab to take 4 people and luggage...". "What?!", I exclaimed, "you speak French as well??". "A little...", Jason said with a shy grin.

So it seems, throughout the day, Jason could speak whatever language was required to get us out of every tight situation. What a man! Honestly, a gay man is a woman's most essential travel accessory. I can't believe I've contemplated travelling without one!

Coincidences

I have adopted my own philosophy whilst on this journey. It may sound quite superstitious or even religious, but I propose that its actually an entertaining way to view the world, and on occasion it can be a solace and guide.

My philosophy is as follows: coincidences are the sign-posts of your true path. They are what highlight that you are on the right path, and that good things await. They also serve to guide your decision-making.

The fun of this way of thinking is that it makes you super-aware of the world around you. I am constantly lingering, looking into things further, hyper-sensitive to events and things around me. Which is a wonderful thing when you are travelling! The significance of this way of thinking is that I feel some comfort and almost spiritual accompaniament, which is soothing when travelling far from home and friends and family. I like to believe some divine spirit is watching over me, and communicating to me via coincidences. Its not necessarily what I actually believe, but its soothing to act like I believe it.

So... coincidences... there have been quite a few startling ones. Here are just a few of them: (Note, Ste, this is me taking your advice and adding sub-headings to break my sagas up a bit!)

1. St Nicolas in Myra
I was sitting in my pension called St Nicolas Pension, in the area called Myra (in Turkey). I had just left my 10-day tour and was by myself for the first time, unsure if I'd made the right decision. I was waiting for my breakfast, and leafing through an activities pamphlet on my table, with the heading on the cover 'St Nicolas - Myra'. I closed the pamphlet, picked up my novel 'The 2 1/2 Pillars of Wisdom', and went to the paragraph I was up to. The sentence began 'Have you heard of St Nicolas, who was the bishop of Myra in the 4th Centure AD?'.

I was breathless and stunned. To be sitting in St Nicolas Pension, in Myra, having just read the words 'St Nicolas - Myra', and then to read the same words in the book I was reading right at that point in time... the odds are scary. Coincidence, or divine sign? Well, I took it as a sign that I had made the right decision to leave the tour and head to this place on my own...

2. Amazing mazes
I was on my last full day of my first leg of my journey, in Seville. I had been a bit lonely after Turkey, everything else had paled in comparison, and I hadn't met any people vaguely as interesting as I'd met in Turkey, and I was yearning for some good company. All I had met were young silly Aussies and Americans, more intent on getting drunk on cheap vodka in their rooms than exploring places, or more intent on saving every cent than exploring what a city had to offer. The night before I had gone out with a few people from my hostel, nice but not terribly exciting. The only thing I remember was a story one girl had told me about this couple she had met in Cordoba: they were a married couple but were forced to sleep in separate rooms as the dorms in this hostel were not mixed. They were supposedly an interesting couple as they were researching Spanish food before heading back to Sydney to open a funky Tapas restaurant... I found this interesting for obvious reasons (yes, Damien, you are that reason!)

Anyway, back to the next day. I was lonely and a little sad. I was about to head back to London the next day, and I wanted desperately to have a fun experience with a kindred spirit. Then I found a maze! I had been wandering through the incredible gardens of the Alcazar in Seville, these majestic thrilling gardens created by kalifs and kings. I have a thing about mazes (similar to the thing I have for ruins!), so was rather excited by my find. I ventured into the maze, in awe and in wonderment - it was the most wonderful maze, thick and lush and wild and confusing. I fell into almost a daze, almost dizzy with glee. It was such fun to wander alone, with the smell of orange blossoms and honeysuckle in the air, and the sound of birds chirping... When I finally came out of my trance, the first thing I saw was this couple, running around chasing each other in the maze (the maze reached eye-level, so you could see other people in the maze). They were having so much fun, it reminded me of my friends and what we would have done in such a maze. We ended up falling into conversation, and helped each other out of the maze. They introduced themselves, they were in Spain researching Spanish food as they were going to open a tapas restaurant in Sydney...

... Can you imagine my shock! I did a double-take and said to them "Oh my god, I know you! You were in Cordoba a few days ago, and you are married, and you couldn't sleep in the same room as they weren't mixed dorms!" My look of shock was quickly reflected in their faces! "How do you know that?!" they asked. "Aah, I'm magic" I grinned... then told them how I knew. We fell into conversation, and did not move from that spot outside the maze for an hour as we chatted incessantly about the best jamon we had tried, the best place to try sherry, how the salmorejo in La Coruna was divine... I had found my food kindred spirits!!! After an hour we arranged to meet up that night to go out. We ended up having the most wonderful time together, doing a tapas crawl of Seville, trying everything, moaning about the flavours, discussing our lives... they are a very cool couple! We then found an underground flamenco bar, and watched in awe as wild woman pounded the floor with their heels. What a night! What a find! Coincidence?? Or a sign?

3. Russian Museum encounter
My last night in London was spent at Pip's farewell party. She and her boyfriend were off to travel before heading back home, like me. Anyway, fast forward two weeks, and I'm in the Russian Museum by myself, once again after finishing my tour. I was having a lovely time gazing at art, but then, for some reason, I thought to myself "Why aren't there any beautiful people in Russia?" because indeed, I had found it a particularly unattractive place to people-watch. So at that moment, I turned from the art on the walls and surveyed the large room I was in to see if there were any pretty people around. My eyes went to one guy who had just walked in the room, he was the best looking person in the room... then I noticed who was on his arm... Pip! Yep, Pip had just walked into my room in the Russian Museum just as I was surveying it. Very weird! We tried to arrange to meet up that night, but her phone wasn't receiving or sending messages, so it never happened, but it was a funny coincidence nonetheless. What does it mean? Not sure yet.

So there you go... weird hey? Coincidence or divine messages... not sure, but its more fun to believe its the latter!

A land of palaces and sorrows

This is my first post from Russia. Its been a whirlwind of activity up until now, as tours tend to be. I was on a 9 day tour that went through Moscow, Pskov, and St Petersburg, which all in all was very informative and a wonderful cushion for then exploring Russia on my own a little. So that is where I am now: alone on my 10th day in Russia, and with the first opportunity to really consolidate my thoughts on this incredible country. Its a land of staggering contradictions and immense hardship. I still cannot comprehend how so much can happen to one country. One the one hand you have the grand legacy of the tsars, with their gilded palaces, tremendous collections of art, and riches literally beyond your wildest dreams. Tsarinas with 50,000 dresses (yes, that even outstrips me!), 50 gilded carriages, jewels and artefects so ornate they take your breathe away, not only because of their beauty but at how so much wealth can be spend on something that will only ever be (and has only ever been) kept in a museum showcase. Then you have the poverty of a nation that seems to be present throughout its turbulent history. This is the type of poverty that inspires uprisings, its so prolific and deep. I see images of it in the artwork, we learn about the riots and protests through the centuries as the starvation and deprivation of the masses inspire violence and revolution. Post-war poverty reached new heights, with people supposedly boiling their shoes to soak up whatever nutrients are left in the leather. And even today, I read about it in the excellent English-written St Petersburg Times, a free publication that chronicles the political and economical situation of the country today, which I have been avidly reading. The minimum wage in this country is four times less than the minimum standard of living cost. Teachers and nurses earn in 1600 rubles in a month - to put it in perspective, an average meal here costs about 200-300 roubles. Horrific. What amazes me is the degree to which the domination of Communist propaganda and a history full of despots has affected the people. Actually, it doesn't surprise me, its very understandable. If you subject people to decades of torture and death and imprisonment when they express any free will or yearn for something greater, then you teach them to not think, to not act outside the square, and to do the least necessary to get by. So is it any wonder that its impossible to get anyone to smile at you, to go a little out of their way for you, to offer a decent level of service. For example, my hotel room has no heating, so is glacially cold. I requested a heater and had to wait two days to receive it. I went to a fascinating Political History museum, and was kicked out unceremoniously at 5:40pm because the museum closed at 6pm. When I protested I was rudely yelled at by an old woman. I tried to explain the irony of being scolded so rudely when surrounded by relics from the Communist era when people where tortured and subjugated, but I think the sentiment was lost on her. Food is served late and cold, taxis scandolously overcharge, public transport is a nightmare to work out... all in all, it can be a hard place to be, and I am often tempted to be furious at the people, when I remember they are a product of their history and environment, and earnestly wish them the best in the future. Anyway, its been great fun. I went to supposedly St Petersburg's best nightclub and was surrounded by supermodel type woman, very fun. I have had a Russian sauna, which involves sweating in a sauna then being beat by birch twigs then running outside and diving into a freezing pond. Mmmm... I have seen wonderful art and beautiful palaces. I have learnt so much about how Communism seduced then raped the country. All in all, its been tremendous, an adventure, despite the hardships.

d

Finally fun in Cadiz

Just a quick update to my previous post - for those wondering if indeed I did end up having the fun I was searching for in Cadiz, you will be pleased to hear that I did.

The hostel I went to this time had been recommended by various people, so I had high hopes. And they were satisfied... although it was disappointing from the perspective that as everyone was a budget-conscious backpacker, no one was interested in hitting the various tapas bars with me... so I bought some delicious chorizo iberico and manchego cheese, plus a lovely bottle of rose, and offered these up for sharing in the common room of Casa Caracol hostel. It was well received, and I began to meet my fellow travellers.

I met a lovely German girl living in London, and a very pretty Swiss girl, and a buxom and beautiful Italian girl. The German girl looked like Zoe Ball so we called her Zoe, the Swiss girl was a younger version of Samantha from Sex & the City so we called her Kim (ie. Catrel), and the Italian girl we named Italy (wasn´t my idea, but it stuck). There were also three German mechanical engineer students with Gallagher brother styled hair-dos. Amusingly I had been bumping into them all over Cadiz again and again, so it was a relief to finally meet them. They were very amusing. So we were a very merry posse, and we planned to hit the bars eventually. Eventually was very slow in coming though, so I assumed my Organiser role (as I tend to do, annoyingly I know at times, but other times a godsend, if I do say so myself!), and asked the locals working at the hostel for recommendations for where to go, and then managed to organise the group (of an extended size of about 2o people) first to the bottle shop to buy some alcohol, then through the maze of streets to a plaza that I was assured would be heaving with students partying in the open square. It was quite a challenge to coordinate such a large group, but I do think I managed it whilst still keeping the energy alive (tee hee!).

On my way to the big square, I started to have minor panic at the realisation that I was leading 20 people to a square purely on my research, and that if it were crap, I would have 20 disgruntled people staring at me. My panic increased as I realised that the recommendation was given to me by a 60 year old man at the hostel... and that may not be the ultimate source for a group of young people... but my worries were relieved as we entered the square to a view of hundreds of chattering students and young people, drinking their bottles of wine and beer, around a fountain in an old beautiful square. It was wonderful fun, and I was congratulated for my organisational skills! tee hee

During my time on the square, ´Zoe´and ´Italy´and I discussed a compelling new business idea... you see, youth hostels are great, not just because they are a cheap way to travel, but they are the best means to allow solo travel as its so easy to meet other interesting people, that you just don´t have the opportunity to meet when staying in hotels and pensiones. And we lamented that they were aimed at youths, when certainly old people would also benefit from such an arrangement... and then it hit us... of course it would!! Divorcees and widow/ers, as well as elderly people, may want to spend a few months travelling, but cannot find anyone else to go with, nor can afford hotels for that length of time. Why shouldn´t they have hostels?! Furthermore, deep down, most divorcees and widow/ers dream of finding new love on holidays, and again, hostels are an optimal way to meet other people in a non-threatening casual environment. The main objective of the holiday of course would be the travel, but if they find romance as well, even better! Sooooo.... we want to start the Mature Youth Hostel Association, dedicated to building quality hostels aimed at middle aged and elderly people, with dorms, common areas, etc. Anyway, we got very excited with our idea...

After a few hours, I gauged it was time to progress to a new venue... I again did some research (chatted to other students in the square) and worked out a bar to move on to. I again, miraculously I think, coordinated the large group through the maze of streets with my trusty map (I´m always map girl!), and got us to the entrance of the bar, only to be told by the bouncer it had a cover charge, and by one of the guys in the group that it was crap and he had been there 4 times in the last week. So I sighed and asked the guy to give an alternative that would not leave my drunken posse lost and down. He rose to the occasion, and led us to a corner of Cadiz that had a row of heaving bars and clubs. Excellent!

We bar hopped a bit, and then progressed to a venue that had particularly good house music coming from it. It was wonderful fun... until I started to notice the men kissing other men all around me. Now, I am of course completely fine with this, it generally means better music, better looking people, and no harrassment from men for me. But the German boys were not so comfortable, so after half an hour, they convinced everyone to leave. But it was a most amusing half hour!

Anyway, that is my tale of fun from Cadiz. Not ground-breaking in its fun levels, but entertaining and satisfying nonetheless. I am so deeply pleased that I came back to Cadiz for that one night, and that it lived up to my expectations. I left for Seville the next day with a wistful smile.