Sucking Air Filled With Purple Haze

Well, that would be a nice reprieve at the moment, but alas, that is not the case. Sorry 'E', no purple cloud of smoke sharing going on for you buddy. Ha ha ha.

In any case, I figured it was about time to update my blog once again, this way everyone knows that I'm not dead, incapacitated, or otherwise moved from my current hold that is Corner Brook, NL. I'll tell ya folks, the desire to just say 'To hell and back with this upcoming testing with the "butt-doctor"' and 'hello sunny skies of Barcelona', is nearing its breaking point. Luckily, I'm trying to keep myself occupied in other ways.

The fiddle is coming along. I'm about two-thirds of the way through it, but it is getting progressively more difficult as I go along. At least now I'm not killing small animals out of the air with notes coming from the 'E' string. I tell ya, getting consistent notes from that string on a cheap fiddle is an art unto itself. At least I'm re-visiting my childhood through this new instrument. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Old MacDonald, and Mary Had A Little Lamb are bringing back gobs of memories from days gone past. Star, Old Mac, and Mary Jane and I have been sitting down to some long remembrance sessions lately...of course Mary Jane is kept out of the loop for toxicity reasons.

Ya know, that's another thing. Here I am spouting all of these credos and battle-cry's stating I'm willing to try anything, and yet MJ and I have not been acquainted as of yet. Huh, I guess I'm a bit of a contradictory specimen then, aren't I? I guess me and 'Mister-e' may have to sit down one of these days and contemplate the meanings of the human psyche and how I have deviated from the path of supreme 'experientialism'. I think that last word doesn't exist, but, I don't really care now do I. It accurately describes my current state of being and probably will for some time now. I'm hoping I'll be staying in that state for the next upcoming trip I have planned.

January Baby!

That's the date I'll be getting prepped to kick up my heels and take the long trans-Atlantic flight to other borders and peoples...And you know what, I can't wait for the life of me. But here's a challange for those of you who are currently saying 'Man, I wish I could go do something like that.' I'm currently opening spots for people to join me on my journeys. That's right, for only $9,999.99 you too can join me in the riches of the world.

Ha ha ha, I kid about the $10k thing. That just brought back good memories of Bugs Bunny and Tweety cartoons. "You too can own this for only ninety-nine, ninety-nine, ninety-ninnneeeeeee!' Ah the fun it was on Saturday mornings. Did you know they have all that set up on Sunday Mornings now? I was shocked and appalled at the matter. How dare they effect sacrilege on the holy day that was Saturday Morning cartoons! The audacity! The horror of it all!

Ahem, back to the matters at hand.

As I said, I am opening up slots to join me for my journey upcoming in January of 2010. I currently have one maybe from miss Jillian Philpott. And the best part is, it's flexible. You can go for a week, a month, or even a year. The choice is yours. Just pick a time, find out where I am, and get your butt on a plane. In fact, just let me know where you'll be within a month prior to your departure and I'll even meet you there! how's that for a deal. Travel Buddy For Hire! Actually, it's be more accurate to say 'For Rent', as I'm basically free. But there are conditions! Oh yes, conditions there are many, hmmmmmmmm. (Put on your best Yoda voice and read that last sentence again.)

Number One, though shalt have an amazing time! No ifs, ands, or butts. Well, butts there will be a-plenty, but we'll deal with that when we get there. Spanish butts, French butts, Swedish butts...gah! Ok, no more daydreaming for me!

Number Two, though shalt not bring any more than you have two. As outlined in the backpackers code, and it is written: 'Thou shalt take half as many clothes as thy might think thy needs and twice as much money.' So states the code, so shall it be!

Number Three, bring no preconcieved notions. Notice how I didn't say plans there. You can have plans, but no notions. Be open to the experience, and you'll have an amazing time. This being said, it also leads to some less than desirable situations so that brings us to...

Number Four, be flexible! Change with the days, the availability of transportation, and even events that are going on. Roll with the punches, baby, and we'll get along famously!

Right, that's about it for my rules, well, at least the top four. I really do wish though that anyone reading this blog would get in touch, plan a trip, and meet me somewhere. Imagine the stories you could tell later! What would your NL or Canada bound friends and family look like when they found out what you had gone and done? I'm pretty sure they'd look like a really big goldfish out of water...with very human features of course. :P So come on, join the fun!

Alright, now back to how I've been keeping myself sane. I've bought an XBOX 360 Elite. Yep, I did, I went and got it. Am I regretting it...sometimes the money is hard to deal without. But on the plus side, my sanity is more intact than it would have been at this time without it. Oh how I missed gaming. Ah, it is nice. Kind of a weird combination though, eh? I run for 12k and then come back and hit the games. Hah! Who says gamers can't be fit! Pbbbbbbbttttttttt! I've also bought a few great CD's.The new CD's by Three Days Grace, Billy Talent, Nickelback, and one by Jeff Healey. Well, if you know your blind guitar players, Jeff Healey is long gone by now, but his music is still amazing. The rest of the albums are currently getting lots of play time on the computer, XBOX, car, stereo, etc.

On that note, I washed, waked, and detailed my car today! I'm so proud, but if it wasn't for Mom's nagging I wouldn't have done it. Thank you Mommy! ;)

Also, I'm churning through the third book in the Shadows of the Apt series by Adrian Tchaichovsky. Amazing series, amazing writer, amazing concepts. Go get it! If you're a fantasy lover at all, you have to own these books. I think it's set up for another book after this one, and I'm hoping for another TEN THOUSAND!...but I digress, cough, excuse me. Ha ha ha. If you do get to read the series, you'll know what I mean when I say Mantis Kinden Rock my Cotton Socks! Kudos goes out to Dot Gardner for the Cotton Socks. Loves ya Dot!

My final piece of business goes to something only one week old. I am taking a course from i-to-i learning (http://www.onlinetefl.com/) for TEFL, or Teaching English as a Foreign Language. Once I'm done, I should be able to teach the bastard language that is English anywhere in the world. I'll tell ya, I could spend an entire blog just talking about how messed up our language is. I mean, I thought French was hard, at least they have forms and ways of writing and speaking. We've got nothing, or so it seems. I really do take for granted being an English speaking native. For all of those I have met that took up English as a second language later in life and have mastered it, my hat comes off to you! You deserve all the praise in the world. A week I've been at it, and I'm still not through the grammar section. Gah!. What the hell! Shouldn't a native speaker and writer be able to understand all of this (or so I thought)? NO! Of course not!. If I pass this, I promise to be ever so patient with anyone I have the honor to teach. I'll make the Dalai Lama look like one of the jacked up angry soldiers from Gears of War. Did you know he has a website, the Dalai Lama? I didn't know that either until I checked the spelling just now. Huh, fancy that. (http://www.dalailama.com/) Who says spiritual leaders can't be up on the technology. Way to go DL! Yes, he gets a nickname now, since he's cool!

Later days blog fans, I'm outta here for now. Keep me posted on what's on the go.

Neal

Homeward bound...by bugs and such.

Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the long delay in my blog posting. I do, however, now have some more news for you.

I am back home in Corner Brook, Newfoundland, for the time being. Why? Well, the reason is in the title...

Bugs!

Well, at least we think it's a bug. While I was travelling I spent six weeks with constant movements of the bowels. Quite the opposite of constipation, and rather frequent as well. So, luckily, my medical insurance provider saw fit to send me home to get it all checked out before I continue my journeys. I'm now glad I bought that insurance. Whew, saved me a lot of fuss in the end. But there is a downside to all of this wonderful doctoring I'm about to recieve. The reason is also in the title...

Home!

As much as I love my home in Newfoundland, well, let me put it this way. Have you ever come off the highway at 110 kmph into a sudden city zone where you're forced to go 50kmph or less? Right, well that feeling of impatience, lethargy, and utter disinterest, is exactly what I'm feeling. I've even gone so far as to buy a fiddle and sign up for boxing lessons, just to keep me occupied. I think tomorrow I will have to be checking with the golks down at Colemans to maybe get some work. No time like the present to top up the coffers.

Still, after being on the road, sdoing my own thing, and finally getting my life back in check, it's a shame to stuck again. But this will not be settling me for very long. As soon as the doctors give me the go-ahead, I'll be on the next plane to...well...wherever I want actually! Ha ha ha.

Well, at least now I have some time to re-group, re-pack, and actually do some writing for enjoyment. And maybe even go through my pictures and videos and label them...as much as it pains me to do so. Ugh!

I leave you for now, but when I have some more news, especially news of my returning to the travel scene, I will let you all know, right here.

Later days,

Ultimatum Made

Alright, you know you've got a fan, albeit your mother, when SHE makes an ultimatum regarding your blog. And when your mother speaks, you listen...or at least pretend to listen and...ah he he he, shutting up now Mom. I'm sure I'm getting her to glare at the screen now. :P Whew. Well, mom, here ya go. Oh, and by the time this is up there should be some pictures, and maybe videos up as well. Enjoy!

Well then, where to begin. I've seen a lot, experienced much, and now I get to use my (heavily practiced these days) liguistics skills pertaining to the written word. I have even found the time to do some writing for myself, fiction, as it were. If you haven't heard of it, it's called fanfiction. In essence it involved using an existing universe of characters and places in order to write your own story, thereby allowing the writer to focus on the story and play with their creativity. If you have the talent and wherewithal, try looking for my stories. If you can find them, you get $50 of my own hard-earned money. If you like them, I'll buy you a beer too. If you hate them, well, who asked you anyway! Oh, I did, well then...bugger off you! Here's a start for finding them, FanFiction.net.

Down to the task at hand, the dirty business, the reason why I'm spending £2 an hour to stare at a screen and listen to awesome music. Speaking of which, if you get the chance to come over here and you have access to a computer, get online with Spotify. It's gotta be the latest and greatest thing I've ever seen. It's basically like itunes, except completely free and great quality for streaming music. Amazing! Unfortunately it's not yet legal in Canada, but I'm told there are ways around that. I won't be trying it, as I'm in the legal zone now. Ha ha ha ha ha. Bogger on you all. I hear natterings that they're trying to move to Canada now, but we'll see how that goes. As well, it might be available for the google version of the iphone soon, as itunes rejected it. He he he, wonder why? Thousand Foot Krutch is the band of the minute for me on Spotify. Their new Album and Single, absolutely awesome! In any case, time to consult the almighty journal and picture albums and see what I've missed.

Okay, so we've gone past Wild and Sexy Scotland tours and Hairy Coo's, what next. Well, I did spend some more time in Edinburgh, then it was off to Glasgow for a few days. Glasgow, Glasgow, Glasgow. Backing up for a moment, Tony, the tour guide from Haggis Tours and Wild and Sexy Scotland is from Glasgow, so he may not want to read this. Unfortunately, I don't have much good to say about Glasgow, other than its people are friendly, just like the majority of Scotland I experiencd. The city was, definitely a city. Dirty, smelly, and generally crowded is the definite word. I won't dwell on that though, and I will spin some tales of my 2 or 3 days in the city center. The first tale is that of a set of buskers. Now, these lads were probably close to my age, not much more, and definitely not much less. They were dressed very smartly in Kilts, traditional white shirts, and some skate sneakers. Okay, so they weren't comletely traditional, but you get the idea. In any case, they were kitted out to play some good marching music. Sanre, bass, and a set of pipes. In their credit, they were excellent. I actually gave them a half pound piece I had in my pcket at the time, one of the few times I actually had some coin on me. So, the first time I saw them was earlier in the morning when they were first getting set up and moving along. So I trolled along through the day, touring the dirrrrrty (roll your r's like Sean Connery) city and generally getting a feel for what Glasgow is all about. Ooh, as another aside, I got some new shoes. North face, bright toxic yellow and green. Awesome! They're wicket trail runners, and a bit slick on polished wet surfaces, but then again, what shoe isn't. Back to the story. I made my way back to that street full of buskers later in the day, and I heard the lads at it in full force. The bass drummer was swinging away, doing those little acrobatics with the sticks you see in marching bands. His sticks were covered in huge fuzzy puffs, I'm guessing to dull the noise. The snare was doing his thing too, a kevlar top creating that distinct marching snare sound. It's one of those sounds that can penetrate anything, anywhere, at any time, 'nuff said. Then there was the middleman, the highland piper. This lad was not slowing down for nothin' and no one. His fingers were a blur as he made his way through several pieces of music, though finishing rather abruptly as I sat down on a step from where the crowd had gathered in order to fix my pack and maybe do some journal writing. Strangely, I heard a commotion coming from within the crowd, so I scooped up my bag and headed for a look. Well, i must have gotten there late, because all I saw was two blokes walking off, jeering to each other, and the drummer (snare) and piper putting down their stuff saying stuff like "Real funny there guys." I have no idea what the two guys in their track suits did to piss these Scottish buskers off, but they certainly made a mistake by picking these three, well, two in particular, but that will be explained in due time. So, the antagonist chaps walked off around a corner, still jeering, and the two that had put down their instruments walked back and forth between looking around the corner and gestulating at the two and back to where their mate and teh crowd was. Eventually, they must have come to a decision and they went off after the two guys. I was then treated to a Scotland brawl. Long story short, the guys in Kilts beat the hell out of the two buggers causing the trouble. They definitely lived up to their name of the Ladies from Hell (I'll touch on this after). Though I didn't see the whole fight, you may wonder why I can safely say the two in Kilts beat the piss out of the two in track suits. The reason is two fold. One, the guys in track suits fled after about 30 seconds into the scrum. Two, the guys in Kilts came back with minimal bruising, and no blood. Now there's a lesson to be learned from this, ladies and gentlemen. The fact is, don't mess with the Ladies from Hell.

Now I referenced that I would touch on the Ladies from Hell comment I made, and so I will. Back in the days of Scotland when battles were still fought with broadswords and you only owned one Kilt for all your duties, there were battles upon battles, countless scrums if you will. I won't try to recall the exact story Tony gave us, but it went along these lines. A group of Spaniards, if I'm not mistaken, were moving into a territory in the Highlands. Now, the highlands of Scotland had been left to their own devices for hundreds if now thousands of years prior to missionaries and the like moving in and trying to take over, often by force. English, Spaniards, and other forces were at work in these battles of supremavy. In any case, during one of these battles, the Spaniards were at the bottom of this ravine, preparing to do battle with whoever, or perhaps they were marching. The key to remember here is that the Highlanders were one of the first in their era to use Guerilla Warfare. So the Highlanders come running down through the trees, yelling and screaming, weilding weapons of mass destruction (two-handed broadswords), ready to send anyone to meet their chosen Gods. Here's some pieces of into to make the picture more vivid. The broadswords were weilded above their heads, twirled around and around in a maelstrom of fury. They were so long that they were only good for the first incursion of troops and then were dropped for favor of shorter weapons or other tactics involving the broadswords. Also, these highlanders came through the trees, so they were not only hard to see, but hard to target until the last minute as they burst out and kicked your pasty white butt back to where you came from. just to top it all off, they were half naked from the waist up, and tattooed everywhere. So your picture now includes several hundred hairy, smelly, screaming, half-naked, kilted, tattooed men weilding weapons of mass-destruction running through the trees down over a hill towards you to cut you down. Oh, and need I mention that they were hopped up on some ancient drink they called the Elixir of Life (alchohol, home brewed) and more than likely some drugs, probably mushrooms if I remember correctly. Now that is definitely a reason to be called Ladies from Hell, and if it isn't, I don't know what is.

Here's a pause in the running commentary we call my blog. Go grab a drink, stretch out the kinks, and download or stream the song Jingle Bell Rock by Thousand Foot Krutch. This is an awesome version of the song, and definitely one I could see being used in a remake of the Muppet Family Christmas. Picture Animal and the rest of the band rocking out to this tune. Booyah! Ha ha ha ha, ahem, right, onwards we move.

Well then, next bit I suppose. While still in Glasgow, I spent my last night out touring around to see what kind of clubs I experience. I visited one area of town with some student bards, and me without my student ID, couldn't get in. But, unfazed, I moved on up and down the roads in search of the ultimate party. There were a few promising prospects, though they turned to dust when I reached them. Live bands that night sucked (at least in the areas I was haunting) and other clubs I was just, well, dissapointed with the clintele, and thus decided not to stay. But, there were two experiences that saved my night in and of themselves. The first being between myself and two lovely, long-legged ladies outside a haunt they wisely advised me not to attend. They represented a tobbacco company, of whos name I will not mention as I abhore smoking and I won't market it without some form of significant payment. Sorry guys, ha ha ha. In any case, they were standing in these form-fitted three piece suits and fancy hats, think really hot mobsters, with white umbrellas in hand. Now, that being curious enough, the umbrellas had written on them "We will keep you warm and dry." Well, at first I was thinking, this could be some rather questionable company, but there's no harm in striking up a conversation. besides, what did I have to lose? So I approached the two ladies with a smile on my face (how could you do anything but) and proceeded to ask them in very eloquent terms, 'What the hell are you two doing out here?' They were only too happy to fill me in about what they were doing and that it was some sort of marketing campaign for this tobbacco company they represented. I think they were also thankful for some more intelligent conversation, as judging by the patrons outside the bar and walking by that night, intelligence may have been somewhat lacking in large quantities. Now, they recommended me to two other bars, one of which I tried and was dissapointed with, the other didn't open until much later and had a different feel to it, so I didn't bother. So, excusing myself from their presence and bidding them a goodnight, I proceeded to see what other trouble I could get myself into in Glasgow at night. Aside from seeing a series of Police vans patrolling, and arresting some poor sould in some cases, there was not much that struck my eye. Of course, that is ignoring the fact that my head was on a swivel with most of the women around wearing not much more than most should wear to bed. Florescent colors assaulted my vision left and right, so who was I not to be drawn to the...um...colors.

So, I did say I had an amazing time that night, and thusfar I have not delivered with a satisfactory explanation. So here's the explanation, and it comes in the form of a bar by the name of Jumpin Jaks. Now, the thing to remember is that this place has got to be the wildest multi-theme bar I've yet to have been privy to attending. The open floor was enormous, a large projection screen for showing music videos as songs were played, a dedicated DJ and MC for the night, a stage for events and live performances by the bar's local girl squad, and a bar that could take any number of drink orders at any given time. Oh, and an interesting point, they had this cool little contraption rigged up, fake of course, above the bar. It was an ACME distillery, and if definitely looked like something Wile E. Coyote would have used in the Roadrunner cartoons. Definitely, a place to go if you're in glasgow. Oh, and they even had singalongs to songs, with lyrics put up on the screen. Absolutely rediculous place. I've got some videos, but I'll have to upload those another time, or maybe if I get time now I will. We'll see.

Okay, now that I have some videos and pictures uploading, I can now concentrate more on the blog. But actually, I'm done for today at the moment, so I will leave you with this piece of a Irish poem. Funny I should be doing that considering I'm in Scotland eh? I'm sure you've all heard it before, but it is really a great piece:

"May the road rise up to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face
and the rain fall softly on your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand."

Substitute what you will for God; Buddah, Allah, or even Loki will do. :P I'll catch you all on the flipside bloggers. Later days,

Neal, the Wandering Newfie Himself

Last minute quiz, for 2,000 points: What tv show is 'Later Days' coined from. A tip, it's a cartoon.

Further Notes On Scotland

Right then, time to go through my load of experiences over the last week or so and sum them up in one ginormous blog post. As far as photos and videos go, that'll have to wait until tomorrow or something, as I forgot my transfer cable back at the hostel. As for the rest of it, I'm working off memories and pictures from the phone so I may be jumping from thought to thought en masse. Well, then, off to the races, giddyapp!

Evan, the bro with the 'fro, you'll definitely like this one. Now be patient, because there's a story behind it as well. While I was in Scotland, I decided to do a 3 day guided tour around Scotland and the Isle of Skye. The company was called Haggis Tours, and boasted a trip featuring Wild and Sexy Scotland. With marketing like that, how could I go wrong? Well, luckily this story does not follow the general pattern of prose in the world today. There is no downturn, no unfortunate circumstances, no events leading to the catastrophic failure of my vacation. Simply put, the trip was phenomenal. But, there will be more on that later, for I have a point to reach considering Heirey Coos.

Heirey Coos, you know, Heirey Coos, right? What do you mean you don't know what a Heirey Coo is? You've never heard of a Heirey Coo? Bah, then we, and by we I mean I, need to explain what a Heirey Coo. So considering this might be some form of code, you need to follow my simple steps to decipher what I mean:

1. Remove the first 'e'.
2. Replace 'e' with the ancient heiroglyph for 'sun'.
3. Flip 'Coo' around so you get 'Ooc', leaving the 's' on the end.
4. Change 'y' to 'v'.
5. Mark the word with an asterisk.
6. Stand on your head.
7. Spit nickels.
8. Go talk to Corey Conrad in produce while hopping on one foot.
9. Run around the town naked.
10. Disregard everything you have read (and possibly done) and simply replace both words with the phrase 'Hairy Cows'.

Give yourself a pat on the back, you're done with the translation. If you've followed all of these steps to the letter I will certainly hear about it on the news tonight and will then contact you in order to congratulate you on being one of the most obedient 'sheep' I've ever met. Of course, I'm kidding, so then on with what I mean by Heirey Coos, Hairy Coos, or Hairy Cows.

Hairy Cows are more commonly known as Highland Cows. They stand about as tall as a regular cow, maybe somewhat shorter than a beef cow, but not by much. They are usually covered in a shade of long brown hair all over their bodies, much of it covering their faces. Since i don't have pictures up yet, have you ever seen those little dogs with the crazy long hair? The ones that look like you could make them run around the house and complete all of your sweeping for you. Right, with that in mind, give them a bigger muzzle, increase their size about two-hundred times, add hooves, give them an 'emo' haircut, and add long horns on either sid eof their head. Now you have a Heirey Coo, or Highland Cow, to be more precise. The critters are rather cool, and they're everywhere in Scotland. We stopped to see some first on the side of the road in the Isle of Skye, and got quite close to them actually. They seem to be very tolerant, not moving too much, and very groovy in general. There was a going challenge to see who could run up and mount one to ride back to town, but of course, the horns were quite the deterrant. This was especially so after one of the Aussies on the tour mentioned he had just been to the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona (I think that's right) and someone was killed and another badly trampled. Needless to say, sprouting off chorouses of 'Here Hairy Coo!' were about as close as we got. I heard later that another tour got to actually pet one, but thein one was enclosed, and therefore more predictable.

Now, why did I just tell you about the Hairy Highland Cows, Evan? The answer, is in the horns. All over the world, there are strange aphrodesiacs, love potions, stimulants, downers, perception-altering drugs, and generally something to enhance every sensation you might want. Now, I have no idea if this is true or not, but our tour guide, Tony, gave us this information. he said that if you grind down the horn of a Heirey Coo and snort it, not only would you have 'coo-caine', but you would also have a very powerful aphrodesiac. Needless to say, he was definitely joking about getting us some and all that, and I'm pretty sure he's lying about the actual resultant effect. however, for a few moments there, I was seriously looking at wrestling a few Heirey Coos to divest them of their cranial fixtures. So Even, when you travel the world, I expect to head about strange dissappearances of Hairy Coo Horns in Scotland at some point. Ha ha ha.

Right then, to the next point of business, namely, Loch Ness. Actually, I'd like to start with some weird names once again. We dicussed on the bus what all the names actually mean translated into English. Loch simply means Lake, and Ness is the area where the lake is, so 'Lake of Ness'. Pretty simple, right? Well then, translate for me Loch Lochie. Have you got it yet, if not, it goes to the tune of 'Lake Lakie'. And we thought Newfoundland was bad at naming places sometimes, sheesh! Also, if you seen something called Eilean m that means Island of . But now I'm getting ahead of myself. Back to Loch Ness. Amazing place, superb, spectacular, breathtaking, and could do with some excitement from time to time. There's not much going on around there, though it is definitely 'the' tourist attraction around the area of Inverness. It brings in Millions of dollars a year in tourism, which is nothing to sneeze at. But honestly, I would rather have just rented a Kayak and gone out on the water paddling. It was clear as glass one time we passed, though the others were less than optimal as the lovely 100% humidity Scotland is known for kicked in and kicked our soaking wet butts. So, I didn't see Nessie, and no, I didn't see anything unusual happening around the area. Cut, paste, moving on to Eilean Donan, among other things.

The tour itself was filled with jokes, laughter, limerics, music from all eras, and general tom-foolery all around. Our 'Clan' mates and guide bonded together well considering we had people from China, Hong Kong, Venzuela, Italy (noisy buggers they were, always yelling and drunk), Aussies, and of course, one lonely Canadian and two Americans, if I counted correctly on my mental tally. There were hikes involved, which had me and my water-proof hiking boots helping a few people out as we made our way around an ovean area into a cave were Bonnie Prince Charlie hid out. If you want his story, you'll have to ask me later, as that could take up a blog post into itself. Oh, another story to remind me of is Saucy Mary. I now have a new term of endearment for the monarchy, the Queen. She will now and forever more be known on Haggis tours and in my heart as 'Sweaty Betty'. Yes, I thought that amazingly funny as well. Now quit yer laughin' boy and keep readin' the wee words laid down here. Eilean Donan was one of the Castles we visited over on the Isle of Skye. Really neat, it was built by a Monk who came over to convert people. Apparently there was better money then in Monkhood, or some guy just built a castle after he was there. In any case, it wasn't the original castle unfortunately, but definitely a great reproduction. You'll get the pictures later, now quit wining!

If you end up over here at a later date though, you definitely have to try and find a certain beer. There's a story with this one too, that comes from Tony's perspective. He said that one time he was speaking to some Mexicans and he mentioned they had a beer called Sheep Shagger's Beer. The two Mexicans looked perplexed for a while, then asked him what he meant. Tony said, 'You know, like...' and made some rather suggestive movements with his hands and hips. The look of dawning struck the Mexicans, and they said ... you're gonna have to ask me to send you the rest of this story, as I'm still trying to keep this PG rated material. Needless to say, it involved poultry, and a favorite four letter word of Robin Williams when doing his 'Golf' skit. I nearly pissed myself at that point, and I hope you won't hold that against me. Actually, why would you, I'm sure you've almost pissed yourself by now as well. Here's another terminology for you, dealing with Castles in Scotland. There are over 1200 castles in Scotland, ranging from small and simple to large and ominous, and other recreations that look like castles but aren't because they now have windows in them. Not exactly what you want to put in a building to keep invaders out, eh? But if you go around to see the castles, eventually you'll get the ABC syndrome. Most times this syndrome is accompanied by copious amounts of cursing, but directly translated, it means 'Another Bloody Castle' Syndrome. All of these terms I give credit to Tony, one of the funniest guys I've ever met in my entire life, and probably the best Sean Connery impersonator I've had the chance to listen to.

If you want to sound like 'Sir' Sean Connery, here's how to do it:

1. Pinch an invisible ball, about the size of a large marble, between your thumb and first finger in front of you.
2. Pop that ball into your mouth, leaving it open slightly.
3. Slide your lower jaw forward.
4. Anunciate your S and X in Sexy as an 'sh' shound, lowering your voice to the desired level.
5. For the pronunciation of 'dirty', roll your R and 'ty' should be pronounced 'tay'.
6. Have fun with it!

Oh, and I've got plenty more saying and such for those of you over the age of PG-13 ratings when I get home. As for now, I'm going to clue this one up and get out of here. Time to drop off some stool samples to the doctor for processing. Okay, so you didn't need to know that, but tough cookies. My blog, my rules. Ha ha ha.

Later gators, and the invitation is still open to join me when you can.

Neal

Cabers Tossed and Haggis Squashed...

...While Kilts abound when ladies sound!

Alright, so not all of that makes sense, but it rhymes, so deal with it. Man it's been a long time since I dabbled in the realm of poetry and prose. I'll have to get back to writing some fictional stories when I set my feet down in one place for a while. Flex my mental muscles once again, becoming a titan of gray-matter and all the airy-space in between! Ahem.

Right then, as you may have guessed, I'm in Scotland, specifically in Edinburgh at the moment. I'll be leaving to go on a tour tomorrow morning around the isle of Skye, so I'll definitely have some better pictures and all that for you by the end of the three days. Then, I have to decide whether to suffer, or to head home and get some treatment. But that will be touched on later if the need should arise. As alluded to before, there are kilts everywhere. Not as many worn by the men, but just the sheer number of shops is astonishing to say the least. I counted over 12 on one road alone. And the prices, Christ, I know you only buy one in your lifetime, but it's a damn good thing you only do that once. The shirt, kilt, and tie combo starts at about £500 and goes up from there. I did see some rather interesting endeavors called Utilikilts, or kilts for everyday wear. http://www.utilikilts.com/ That would be an interesting way to walk off the plane in Deer Lake when I get home again.

But I gotta jet at the moment, as time is running out and I have no more money for extra time this time around. Lots of time in that sentence though. :P

Catcha later bloggers,

Neal

Leprechauns and Red-Haired Maidens Ahoy!

Ah, Saints Begorah! 'Tis a fine day ta be Irish, don't ya know it.

Ha ha ha ha. So, how do ya like my Irish accent. Well, for those of you in the produce department reading this, you now what I'm like with the Irish and Scottish linguistics. I hope you've all looked up Tommy Tiernan and the skit he does on Mass. Priceless, though not for younger ears. As you can probably gather, I'm in Ireland, Dublin to be exact about the matter. I arrived a few days ago, and I've been getting settled in, seeing the sights and all that jazz. I'm uploading photos as I type, so by the time you read this post I'm sure you'll be able to go online to my Facebook acount (my photos link) and see some of the photos I have up.

So far in Dublin, I've been absolutely at home with the world around me. We always say that Newfoundland is much like te Ireland of Canada, but now I can safely say that we're right about that, one hundred percent! I feel more at home here than I did when travelling most of Canada and the U.S.A. over the years. The music, the people, and even the food all ring true of back home in Newfoundland. For those of you tuning in from the West Coast, you have to come over. There are live sessions and kitchen parties here almost every night of the week tat rival anything we have ever organized at home. Aldonna and Sean, have you ever been to O'Shea's or O'Donoghue's? Both great spots in their own rights. The former has Irish set dancing on Tuesday nights, though I haven't seen that yet, and the latter has some of the best freeform music sessions and traditional Irish pub 'feel' I've come across so far. I'll be writing about my experiences at O'Donoghue's actually and when I get my photos uploaded, I'll be able to show you all what the sessions were like. Ah, the wonders of youtube.

Here are some passages from my personal journal for your reading pleasure. Be warned, to step inside the mind of an Oram is to tangle with possible insanity, laughter, music, theatre, and adventure all joined into one congealed mess of consciousness. So, with the disclaimed out of the way, do enjoy:

"I stand, or sit as it is at the moment, in Dublin Ireland. It is currently day two in the lovely island of Ireland, and I feel healthy and wise, but not so wealthy any more as my budget is decreasing rather quickly. Ha ha ha. Oh, how quickly money does disappear when having adventures. I went for a run before 7AM this morning, not bad for a guy who normally wouldn't stir out of bed before he had to back in the school days not much over 1 year ago. That is one thing I have noticed changing for the better is that of my physiological constitution, minus some gastrointestinal issues I am currently dealing with. Firstly, let me say that a great business idea has come to mind in my travels. Why not go with the new dieting trend and combine it with travelling? Send people off on a tightly budgeted trip, make them walk everywhere, and watch the pounds just slip away. As lean as I was, I've already lost another 7 or 8 pounds (10 currently), and I'm not 1 month into the trip. I'm as lean as I've ever been and if I can keep up with a little strength work twice a week, I will be going after the body Brad Pitt had in the movie Fight Club. A-Booyah! Secondly, my sleep habits are changing as I mentioned before. I find myself awake at close to dawn, especially if the window is open. But here's the real kickers: A) I don't have to use an alarm clock, and B) I have no loss of energy! Fancy that, eh? I can now see the benefit of the forager and hunter-gatherer lifestyles I studied briefly in my Anthropology course. Walking all day from place to place, eating only what you have to, and sleeping only what the body needs does wonders! Unfortunately, I'm still trying to refine my diet enough with the gastro-intestinal issues I mentioned earlier. Some tests have been done and back, so apparently there's nothing wrong in the stool, a great sign, but there may be something going on. I'll be getting checking out again if this keeps up or gets much worse. (Went there today actually, and we'll see how it goes, otherwise, I be coming home for some treatment briefly before setting off again. Nothing can stop me now.) It could be the change in climates, foods, or even stress-related (I haven't felt this relaxed in years though, ha ha ha.) No worries though, as I believe I'm narrowing down the food issues. No heavy creams based sauces, high fatty foods, or anything rich! And as for the gas, whew! I think I killed a pigeon the other day. I walked past, farted, and the little critter ruffled up his feather, teetered a little on his feet, and promptly flew away into a wall to drop unceremoniously into a pile at my fell. Okay, so that didn't actually happen, but it could! :P"

"I did meet a rather interesting individual yesterday, Mr. Patrick Slaney. He's a fellow Newfoundlander from down in the Southern coast area, if I'm not mistaken. Unusually her does not have a Newfoundland accent at all, but I will ask that question of him later. (I asked, and it turns out he moved to the mainland for University and has been away ever since for over 23 years. That would explain it.) He approached me due to the Canada running shirt I had on at the time when I was leaving the public library in Dublin. If I had been just a little bit slower or faster I would not have met him or had the chance to talk to him. he's an entertained on a cruise ship actually, (as well as a practicing psychologist, but I found that out later) and has been for a long time from the way he speaks of it. Piano is his tool, though I have yet to hear him play. Maybe I will try to sneak that in somewhere today. In short, I'll have more to say about Dublin after today as Patrick offered to show me around the city, as he has been here many times before. I should point out that this gentleman is probably old enough to be my father. ha ha ha h a, yes Dad, this is my way of calling you an old man. Deal with it! Ugh, I still have half an hour before I head into the Library, time to see if my hand is up to the task of even more writing."

"I performed a good deed already today. Rachael, as I found out he name when we parted ways, was having trouble with her rather large bag this morning due to the stairs. So, I offered to help, and promptly carried her bag down over the steps. For someone of her slight build I was not surprised to see she had trouble with the bag. it was heavier than mine even! Sheesh. But before I parted ways with her, I did find out she's from Toronto, and her and her group are headed for Galway for a day or two and then back home to Canada. As a side note, and a rather unfortunate one at that, I failed to acquire her contact information. Foolish Neal, gotta remember, always get the pretty girls' digits. Maybe the next one eh? I've got a long way left to go on this journey, and with any luck, a lot more people to meet. Ciao baby, for now anyways."

"Note, buying fruit from stand vendors around O'Connell street is an adventure you should not have. I believe the food, while of great prices, are of questionable quality. Perhaps they are seconds from other stores. I'll be sticking to the shops from now on."

Whew, well there you have it, one journal entry down. I may enter another today, as I wrote about my experience at O'Donoghue's and another pub. Strangely enough, there's been no cover charged in any of the pubs and bars I've seen and been to around Ireland. Maybe we should take a page out of their books for George Street, eh?

Later days everyone, until next time,

Neal

Heading For New Shores

Ladies and gentlemen, next stop, Manchester!

Alright, so not quite the blog entry you were hoping for eh? Ha ha ha. Well, I do have some good news, that is not what I meant by New Shores. I will be heading across some water to the lovely island of Ireland, specifically Dublin. After 5 days there, it's up to Edinburgh, Scotland, for an indeterminate amount of time at the moment. I haven't booked my hostels yet. Maybe I'll book a few, some in different areas, and get to see some of the coasts of Scotland and some outlying areas I wouldn't normally see.

At present though, I may be cutting this short, as I have been surrounded by a bunch of teenaged Italians. At least, I belive that's the language. Italian or Spanish, one of the two. They're rather nosy as well, peeking over my shoulder to look at what I'm doing. Buggers the lot of them.

Alright, adios amigos,

Neal

Interesting Facts Previously Not Mentioned

The following post may be considered PG-13 rated. If you are not over the age of 13, do not read this post. Ladies, if you are lying this badly about your age to believe you are 13 once again, you definitely need not read this post and seek professional medical help. Men, well, there's only a few people in my family under the age of 13, and one I know can't read yet, while the other two should beletting their parents read this first. Now then, enough with this random disclaimer/warning, and on to the blogging at hand.

Good Day men, women, and beasts alike. Your host is back with another installment of the Wandering Newfie blog. Y'know, I was doing some writing in my journal the other day, and I came across some pages I had scribbled random notes on for use later in a previous blog entry. Well, needless to say, I had not included these findings and tidbits of information into the blogs in retrospect. So here it is, the blog to bring to the forefront some of these thigs I saw, encountered, heard, touched, tasted, smelled, and otherwise interacted with on some level or another. Each paragraph is its own separate thought process, so you can read in bits and pieces at your leisure.

The first one was a street sign. You and I know that in Newfoundland, we have some odd town names, and even more surprising business names from time to time. Well, this one really took the cake. I will remind you, that this may be PG-13 rated, so parents, please remove your children from the computer screen until you have passed this piece. On the bus heading out of bath, this road sign for a hotel read, and I kid you not, 'Limpley Stroke Hotel'. Not only was this sign presented on the side of the road for all to see, but it was placed strategically around the turn we were taking in three different places, just to make sure all passers-by recieved the message implicitly that this hotel was there. I nearly jumped off the bus at that moment, though if the hotel had lived up to the connotations of its name, I would very quickly not qualify to stay at said hotel.

A pice of information I found at Stonehenge was what they referred to as Burroughs (my spelling may be off slightly, pronounced Bur-uh's). These reminded me of the Viking houses and grave sights at Lanse-aux Meadows on the Northern Penninsula...and I hope my geography is right otherwise Dad and Mom will never let me live this down. Well, Mom might because her sense of direction is sometimes worse than my own. I love you too Mom! The mounds in the ground, which look like shrunken versions of our own Norse invaders' graves, dotted the landscape around the Henge. It would have made one hell of a challenging golf course though, let me tell you. Corey, I'll see if I can make it to St. Andrews, where they invented the sport, and piss off some poor waspy old men by acting out Robin Williams. If the video is shaky, it'll be because I was running away from the golf carts. But, I have digressed. As it is, these Burroughs are the grave sites of ancient Chieftans who lived in the area surrounding Stonehenge hundreds if not thousands of years ago. But they aren't pushing up daisies, so to speak, as there wasn't a blasted flower, shrub, or plant to be seen save for the long grass and local small plants that seem to be everywhere anyways. They're certainly doing their blastedness in the afterlife not be disturbed or found. Fortunatley, out tour guide knew where they were, and he filled us in. I will say this though, if I get the chance again, I'm taking my running shoes and running over all of those Burroughs I can find, just to say I 'ran over' a historic figure, if not royalty for some I'm sure.

York is certainly an interesting place, if you're into older-style architecture and very, very quiet places to think and ponder about the myseries of the universe while being bothered by countless amounts of geese, pigeons, finches, and other fowls and feathered fiendish fauna hiding in the flora. I will explain myself in short order. Firstly, the architecture is really quite spectacular, as you can see by going to my facebook page. (Yes, I still haven't figured out a good site to dump mass amounts of pictures onto, so if you have any good ideas, let me know!) The walls around central York are the original walls and walkways and towers used to gate and guard the city in its earlier years against travellers, warring bands, and wild animals of all sorts, shapes, and sizes. It is quite interesting to walk on them, but I did that once and it didn't take me very long, so enough said about that. Oh, come on, it's a wall! It's not that impressive. Still, there are pictures in the facebook gallery. You can check it out there. Some of the buildings look old enough to belong in a movie set back in the days of Shakespeare. The roofs are bowed with age, clay-fired tiles cracked from the weather, paint fading off the walls, and people manning them that look like they've been strung out on the timeline too long. Alleyways dot the streets as you walk by, some so small you'd miss them if you blinked as you walked. My friend Jessica showed me a book she had about where all of the alleys were and where they went, and also said it's a great way during festivals and busy times of the year to get around the crowds. I looked at them and thought 'What a great place to get away in a chase!' and 'I wonder if I can climb those walls?' That was another thing, all of the drain pipes and such running down the sides of the buidlings had this 'Climb Proof' paint on it. Well, it certainly didn't feel climb-proof to me when I briefly tested that theory. Did I go to the top, nope, as the building was 3 stories high, but it did give me a really cool vantage point to look down on the alley from. It'd be a cool spot to run around for a day and see where I could get, well, minus the police and jails and all that jazz that would undoubtedly ruin my fun. Pffft. As for the quiet of York, it's too much like home in some ways. Every major shopping area save the market in Central York is set far outside the city proper. There aren't a lot of travellers either, not like London anyways, or I would suspect some of the other places I will be visiting in the near future. That's what bugs me about some of these places, great scenery, but lousy amounts of things to do and people to meet. Still, for what it is, a great place to wind down and relax for a few days, until you go completely mad! Finally though, there are the birds. Pigeons are in your face and around your feet quite literally 24-7 and they are everywhere. They even wake me up in the morning. I didn't know pigeons could be that annoying, honestly, I didn't! I guess in the bigger cities, they get drowned out by the engine and gunshot noises. But that craziest thing was the geese. I have pictures of hordes of geese, just walking, or rather waddling if you prefer, in the main pathways. They're not exactly the nicest sort either, well, the gray ones aren't anyways. There were two main types, black and gray. While the black ones stayed to the water and flights mostly, the gray ones acted like we were on their turf. One even blocked my path as I was biking towards it, raised up, and hissed at me like a bloody-snake! Needless to say, I was so shocked by the maneuver, I promptly stopped the bike and waited for it to get the hell out of my way. In retrospect, it would have interesting to see how far a goose could fly if powered by a kick moving at speeds accelerated through the use of a bicycle, or 'push-bike', as the locals like to call them.

'Bicycle Policeman With Siren Blaring Looks Ridiculous As He Weaves Through Traffic!' That definitely could have been the highlight of my blog post. The dude just threw a siren on and cars started somewhat moving out of his way. I have to give the dude some credit though, as it takes dedication to do your job all day on a bicycle wearing a bright yellow vest. However, he did look rather ridiculous, and I believe I even saw some of the locals look and laugh as he passed by. I mean, how intimidating is a guy on a bike coming up behind you in a car? You almost want to open your door abruptly and see how far he flies. But of course, I would never do that, no...not having a car throws a monkey-wrench into things now doesn't it? At least on horse-back you have to look up at the officer as they come up on you or pass you by. Imagine if the poor guy got a flat, or got into a bike chase with a theif on a really nice racing bike? He's not only be exhausted in the second situation, but also embarassed in both of them. Not my first choice for a position with lots of respect flowing my way.

I believe that's about it for today folks. I have to go dbook some more flights. Next stops, Manchester, Dublin, and then most likely somewhere in Scotland. Time to have a linguistic adventure! If you can tell me where that line is taken from, you get a shout out and I'll send you back somethinf in the mail.

Neal

Most Pictures Uploaded

Hey eveyone, this will be short and sweet.

I'm still having some troubles uploading my london pictures, but all the other ones are up now. The london ones should be up soon. The party ones are up as well, so you can check those out. You have to access my facebook page, and I let eveyone see those, so you should be able to get access to them through your facebook account. Let me know if its not working there.

Cheers,

Neal Oram

Apology Needed

Right then, as you all may notice, I have squat-all for pictures posted on my blog and website. This is because, finding computers and the necessary time with which to post them is rather difficult. However, I will be solving that problem in the near future, either by purchasing a computer or coming back to this Library I am currently seated in and posting up some more. I need a better site to upload to though, as my current one is crap! If anyone has any suggestions for websites where I can mass-upload pictures and the like, even for a small membership fee, please let me know.

Sorry again for the pictures, but I'll do the best I can soon,

Neal

Veni, Vidi, Vici Camden Town...Stonewhat?

Actually, it's more like I came, I saw, and Camden Town kicked my pasty white Newfie butt all over the tarmac. Holy sweet mother of pearl that place is cool.

Ahem, let me rephrase that last statement. Camden Town is the best place on the planet at the moment for a cross-cultural market experience in my books. Anyone into alternative lifestyles, punk, rock, somewhat questionable uses of what looks to be lamps with hoses attached to them (Evan, you know what I mean), and anything else you may wish to get and/or imagine, this is your Mecca!

The place was crawling with people, even in the 31 degree heat of the day with little cover. Money changed hands, food was consumed, and music was played loud and proud over the speaker systems of each and every shop. In just the clothing shops alone there had to be a ludacris amount of choices. Let me see if I can remember and list what I saw there:

1. Punks, everywhere.
2. Goths, also everywhere. All that black must be hot.
3. Psychadelic Pants
4. Piercings Where no Piercings Should Go.
5. Mass amounts of shoppers.
6. A hemp shop.
7. Bongs.
8. Juggling Supplies.
9. Bondage Pants.
10. Bars and coffee shops.
11. Alternative lifestyle fairs.
12. Metal Horse Sculptures.
13. Masquerade Masks.
14. Lolicon Clothing (Quite cute on Asian girls.)
15. Carvings.
16. Motorcycle/Scooter Benches.
17. Free samples of all sorts of food.
18. Crazy t-shirts.
19. Freaky shoes.
20. Roller-ski style skates. Wicked expensive though.
21. Stockings.
22. Motorcycles.
23. A wine store called, well, look at the pictures.

Right, that's about all I can think of at the moment. Whew, it was wild though. It is definitely a must-see spot when travelling in the UK in general , let alone in London, where it's so close to everything. Take a look at the pictures for more stuff. Unfortunately, I couldn't take a picture inside some of the shops, being that they wouldn't allow it. They're a bit anal about that, but meh, it's their shops, so I gotta respect that.

Right then, after Camden town, the next stop was the city of Bath and Stonehenge. Let me cover Stonehenge first.

Pile of Rocks. Moving on! I might rant about this later, but I'm on a timeframe so I have to cover what I can when I can. Needless to say, just drive past it if you go to see it. Not worth any money to see.

The city of Bath, absolutely delightful! The city was gorgeous. Not real big, ust over 80,000 if I'm not mistaken, but the architecture made up for it. Crown mouldings, sculptures on every building, beautiful bath stone used on every area that you could see, and some of the most beautiful scenery around. There is actually a park there, nice and manicured lawns and the works. Unfortunately it costs a few pounds to get in. But, if there are lawn chairs available, you get one for free! Needless to say, I did not go in there. Ha ha ha.

The baths in Bath were deinitely a sight to behold. It is interesting to see how ingenious the Roman peoples were with architecture, plumbling, and artisan crafts alike, combining it all into one place. Did you know, that they actually allowed business to be conducted in the baths? Interesting thought really. Why not do business when you're comfortable and can get lots done, eh? Maybe that's a new business idea for Corner Brook? ... Nah! Since that covered most of my day, seeing both Stonehenge and Bath, I then promptly went home and fell to sleep, almost with my clothes on. The blasted sun was still pelting out a whopping 35 degrees that day. I swear, if I didn't get some rain soon, I was going to freak. Luckily, a few days later, I did, and it got cooled off. Whew! Word to the wise, if you don't like crazy warm weather, don't go to London or Bath in June.

Alright, I'm done for the session. Let's see if I can get another update started or completed. I think I have a party to tell about, or did I already cover that one? Hmmmm, well, I'll have to read my own posts and see.

Adios ladies, gentlemen, and creatures of all sorts,

Neal

Rock You, Sock You, Pick You Up and Drop You!

Good Morning Blog Fanatics,

For those of you new to the loop, I am your host, Neal Oram, and this is where you can find out all about me, what's going on, where I'm travelling, and what things I've seen so far.

Right then, so this morning I've got to fill you in on what I did yesterday. Well, the morning was a usual day, walking around the city, meeting people from all over the place, sweating profusely, and generally drinking copious amounts of water to prove that I could still pee! Ahem. In any case, that pretty much drained me, so after a run, which i think was yesterday, I headed back to the hostel, cleaned up, and headed out to my first live musical show.

Yeah, yeah, ham it up. I went to a muscial. But, I'll bet that if you were here, you would have loved it. The musical was called 'We Will Rock You'. It was created by the remaining members of Queen a few years ago, and has been running ever since. Honestly, it has got to be one of the best shows, if not the best musical show I've ever seen. The theater felt more like a rock concert than a show, and of course the singers we ridiculously talented. Definitely professionals of some sort. Whew. Oh, and need I mention the little clothing some of the female dancers wore. Rawr! Cough cough, ahem!

Another thing, if you head over here, head to Leicaster (spelling may not be right) Square. That's where all the theatres are for the shows, and also where all of the discount ticket agents are. On the day of the show I got 60 pound top class seats for 35 pounds, not too shabby at all. Definitely a spot to check out though. Each theatre is dedicated mostly to one show or another, which makes the experience really special in each place. In this one, they even had in-floor hydraulics on stage to lift performers up and out over the audience. for over 2h30min of showtime, 35 pounds was worth it.

On another note, I just got back from a run with a German friend of mine. I just rackeed out on one of the trails too, and combined with the spots we both have from some plant when running through some thorn bushes (of course, my idea) I'm now spotted legs and scratced up forearms and shoulders. But hey, would it be a good run any other way. Ha ha ha.

RIght then, catcha later gators.

Neal Giggity-Giggity-Gone!

Catch Up Or Shut Up...

Alright, so I've been lacking a bit in the online journal department lately. Time to catch up for the last few days I've been away. This could take some time so bear with me please as I gather my thoughts and develop them into this delightful piece of electronic literary work we call a blog.

Well then, I believe it is time to start at Thursday, the 25th...hmmmmmmmm. Ah, yes, now I recall. I had a race that night. But before that, the morning, as we will be moving in chronological order on this post. I slept rather poorly, but well enough I suppose considering even at night it has got to be up past 20 degrees outside and even warmer in the hostel basement where I'm located. Which reminds me that I must post up some more of the pictures and videos I took. But enough sidetracking. I wandered around a bit that day, got to see, if I'm no completely off my rocker, Oxford Circus. Now, this is not an actual circus with clowns, elephants, trapeze artists, fire eaters, and the like (I wish it was though), but rather a crazy shopping district just North of Hyde Park. Quite a nice spot actually, lots of shops, a university campus right in the middle of it (strange), and plenty of gorgeous people to meet. This one lovely lady by the name of Rosie Hudson sat down next to me at a coffee and sandwich shop on her way back to work. So, being the social person I am and not one to pass up a challenge, I proceeded to engage her in some conversation. She was awesome, rather enthralled by the idea of travelling the world solo, but quickly amended she likes her creature comforts too much. Well, to each their own. Mind you, she has already seen more of the world than I have and she won the ticket for free through a contest, or a friend, something like that. This is her picture, before I move on. Good luck Rosie I hope the job is going well and that you manage to get back to the countryside when you can. Keep in touch and drop in to Newfoundland one of these days and I'll show you around, well, when I get back there of course.


















That night was the race, and what a race. It was the London Bridges Relay, right down by St. Thomas Hospital, the Millennium Eye, and MI5 and MI6. Probably about 200 runners or more. 4 Persons per team, 100 teams registered, wel, 3 people per team on all-female teams. So i showed up, and my impromptu team member Kevin, was about to go mark the course with some chalk, so I went along, running in my Tilley hat along the course, chalk in hand, chatting away to this fine runner. We were put together on this team by Mr. Stephens, great cat, not at the race though, but I'm sure we had the most global team there. Kevin from London, Elise from Australia, Alicia from Poland, and me from Newfoundland. The world is definitely a global place, and we just proved it. Kevin ran 12:57, Alicia 15:00, Elise I think 18:00 or thereabouts, and I ran 14:00. Not bad, but for an above 40 year old guy, Kevin can run! It was about 3.6k we figure, not real accurate, but a fun, flat course. The little headwind on the turnaround helped me catch a few people, he he he. After that we all, minus Alicia, headed north along the waterfront to hit one of the local watering holes. All the crowd inside the bar must have been flabbergasted when about 100 runners or more showed up to this pub and took over the joint. Ha ha ha. The looks on their face was priceless. Elise and I stayed for a bike to eat (burgers and fries, but salad instead of fries for me, damn deep frier and fish allergies). The food was excellent, though next time I'll get the burger well done, rather than medium. Our server was quite blond, and definitely lived up to all the jokes about her designated cranial coloring. Then it was time to head home on the tubes, and crash. What an amazing night's sleep I had that night. Whew!

Right then, on to Friday I suppose. Not so good this day. I spent the morning in bed sleeping in. God did I need that. I guess the mix of exhaustion from no good sleep for a few nights and racing and walking in the sun everyday and then finally utilizing my earplugs and sleep mask before the damn blokes from the bars got in and caused a ruckus may had inadvertently caused my cerebral cortex to shut down for the night entirely. 'Gasp' That was a run-on sentence, for all you grammatical freaks out there, but I had to get the point across how amazing it was to only wake up one during the night and immediately go back to sleep. So as I was saying, not a great day, but fun. I had picked up a book earlier the previous day at Oxford Circus, so I sat down to do some reading in the Hostel and in Hyde Park, just up the road. The reason being, I was feeling a bit ill, green around the gills, if you will. My bowels were not quite agreeing with me that morning, and still aren't quite at 100% now, but it's a work in progress. I tried to line up some stuff with my health insurer, but that story is better left alone. Grocery store at night, picked up some mangoes and such stuff, chatted with two lovely ladies from Norway and Poland, if I screwed up and you're readying this ladies, sorry! My name and country memory bank is getting a workout lately with all the travellers I'm meeting. Then it was off to bed to end another day.

Next day, late waking up and I had to check out of my hostel in about 10 minutes. No shower, no teeth brushed, nothing, just packed up and took off out the door. Ha ha ha. Only 15 minutes late, so the crew at Astor Hyde Park were really good about it. I had approached them before going mad at packing, and they basically said don't worry about it, just make sure you stay out of the way of the cleaners. So off I went to another hostel. I didn't quite realize how far away it was until I started walking with a pack I had packed quite badly. I also had a little too much food and water on me, so I opted for a cab. Never again! 18 pounds to get where I needed to go. Blah! Now I wish I had a bike to ride on and no training gear to lug around. I sear, if I had only packed for the summer season, I could get away with 10-15 pounds instead of 30-35. Whew, it's so hot here now and I'm so dehydrated I'm sucking back water like mad. Well, moving on then. Arriving at the Palmers Lodge, my new home until the 2nd of July, I took a look around, read a little bit, went for a walk, and then got settled in. Then it was out for another walk around the community to check out the local shops, where I could track down some grub, and grab the nearest tube. Once sorted, I got in tough with Elise who had went down to check out Wimbledon. She was there for hours and couldn't get in, so she took off and hung with some mates of hers. Mates as in friends, not mates as in a polygynous relationship between one woman and many men. That would just be weird, considering she's from Oz. So she invited me out with some of her friends to a pub that night, which was an adventure in itself I will outline below.

I started on the right tube, but once there, the damn thing was cancelled after me waiting for about 20 minutes, no service whatsoever. I had only missed the last good tube by about 10 seconds. Rubbish on me for re-checking the route. Ha ha ha. In any case, I took off walking/running to the next stop, saw a couple of buses and said, ah, to heck with it. I waited at the bus stop for the nearest bus, but lo and behold, three buses passes us all by because they were full. I guess they were filled by angry tube-goers further up the line. So, off I went to walking again. I did have a partner in crime though. This lovely young lady had been on her feet for the last two hours or more, and was doing the same as me, trying to get to another station due to the tube being down. She was off to meet her boyfriend, I think, who sounded quite upset on the phone. But, we had a good laugh at his expense. She kindly escorted me down to Baker Street station, and then proceeded on to Oxford Circus to meet her BF. Me, I hopped on the Bakerloo Tube and headed for Waterloo in short order. Quick, simple and made it in record time. Now, you know when you look at a map, and the distance doesn't seem that far to walk? Yeah, I was subject to that wonderful little fact of irony that night. Arriving at Waterloo I walked along the river Thames in a Northeasterly direction for a good 25 minutes. Now I'm only 1hr30min late to the bar. Ha ha ha. What can I do. Keeping Elise and her gang in place with multiple texts, I found the Globe Theatre, yes the Shakespeare one, and thus the Swan at The Globe, the bar we met at. Nice, swanky joint too.

Next comes the fun part of my night. Elise and her crew, a German and another UKer, decided to crash a runners party nearby. The Serpentine Road club, I forget the actual name they put on themselves, had 150 tickets sold on this gathering they had going on. Great times there. he three ladies were actually part of the club, but no tickets, and me, well, I'm just along for the ride. At the door, lo and behold, big black man. The kind of guy you look at in the night and the only thing you see and the two eyes and teeth smiling back at you. Luckily, very patient. The girls tried to work their magic, to no avail, but then produced some cards proving membership to the club. Well, two of them anyway. Elise was too new to the club and me, well, I'm not part of it. So the bouncer heads upstairs to check with the organizer of this thing, bringing him back downstairs to us. We explain what we want to do, mostly true, and he doesn't bat an eyelid and invites us up, after checking the occupancy limit of course. Ace! He must be part Newfie to pull that one off. So, we got in, ceiling within my arms reach, it was quite the jumping little club. Then the party really got going. We had to work as a team there for a while to get the dancers up on the floor, me being a little bit of an instigator. God, I haven't sweated that much in most races, let alone on a dance floor. But, after a while, got them all up there, and it was great. Absolutely crap music, but great crew. All gorgeous people. Check out the pictures and maybe a video or two on the links north of this post. You'll not be disappointed. Right then, so after wowing all the ladies with my light feet and camera work, and the fact I crashed the party, Elise and I took a cab to her place. Now guys, don't get any dirty thoughts here. i crashed there because the tubes, or most of them, were not running at that late hour and I had no idea how to get back there save for a 30 pound taxi ride. So I crashed at Elise's place. Awesome pad for being here on work. Extra bedroom and all. He shorts were comfy as I had to wash mine out to be able to put them on the next day without knocking out small animals from mid-flight. Of course, I cooked in the morning. Bacond and eggs baby, yeah! Definitely tasted awesome, though english back bacon, waaaaaay too salty for my tastes. Still, quite good after being dehydrated as bad as I did. When your urine looks like gatorade, we have a problem. Then it was on the tubes, navigating my way to the general viscinity of where my hostel was, picked up 2.5 litres of water, and then walked back here, where I'm typing this blog post.

Whew, well, that was quite the writing done for this morning. Hopefully I've kept you satisfied for the next little while. I'm going to chug back some more fluids now, check out my room, which I paid for yet never slept in so far (he he he), and maybe go check out london bridge and the buskers down at the milleniium eye today. Oh, and definitely gotta check out some of the shows and when they're playing. Maybe see a Shakespeare one, or maybe We Will Rock You, the one written as a musical of Queen. There's just so many to choose from. Right then, I'm outta her bloggers and bloggets. Have a good one and catch you next time.

Neal

Neal Has Arrived!

Hey dudes and dudettes, I have arrived in London. This one will be short as I have 3 minutes left on my time on the computer here at the hostel. Damn pay thingies. Crazy day, got lost on the way back to the hostel, stuck on a tube (subway) and all that jazz. Ha ha ha. Blisters on my feet to prove the 6 hours of walking I did so far too. Funny thing today, some dude thought I was an Australian. I guess the Tilley hat did it.

Right, I'm outta here.

Neal 'The Crocodile Dundee of London' Oram

3, 2, 1...Takeoff!

It's down to the wire now blogers. T-Minus 9hrs and counting until I get on that gorgeous big plane and head off to world apart. Mom of course is rather woried, but I'm quite fine, and dad is of course, well, dad. Still wondering how he can go with me and not freak out mom. Ha ha ha.

Alrigh, I'm off to clue up my banking and all that jazz, oh, and pick up my bags from the tailor. You can't have too many patches on your clothing eh?

Cheers,

Neal

Shoutout to the Colemans Produce Department!

Good Night one and all, and welcome to the next installment of the Wandering Newfie.

I will lay out a little disclaimer at this point, as I have found out there is another blog titled The Wandering Newfies, but they are many and I am one and in no sense affliated with them. Oh, and I show up number one in google for 'wanderingnewfie'. A-Booyah baby!

This blog post is dedicated to all of my friends and adopted family in the produce department where I worked. We always thought of doing a breakdown of who it is that worked there and what they represent, but we just laughed about it and moved on. So here it is, my version of the produce family.

Corey - Stern and tough, yet just one of the guys, definitely the father of the group.

Dot - Knows when to put her foot down, definitely mommy material though.

Glen and Robert - What family would be complete without the crazy uncles.

Edith and Lisa - Two aunts with hearts of gold, tongues like vipers (when needed), and characters full of life.

Evan - My brother from another mother. Master and commander of all things psychadelic and mind-related.

Matt - The new baby on the block. He'll grow up just fine to fit in with the established crew.

Joey and Brandon - One's a crazy militant, the other one, well, just plain crazy. But these two make up the cousins of the group.

Greg - The ever 'agreeable' brother. Oh yes ya!

Brad - The second newest addition to our crew, he adds a lot of life and just a little more crazy. Pfft, like we need more!

K* - I've only met her once, and she hasn't been indoctrinated yet, but I'm sure the new little sister to the crew will put the boys in their place.

*Yes, I forgot your name. I'm sorry, sheesh, enough with the PDP. (Puppy-Dog-Pout, for those of you not up on your cartoon slang these days.)

I believe that's it. If I missed anyone, other than Dane who is now the estranged second-cousin twice removed, then you can come on over to Endland and kick my ass. Ha ha ha. Alrighty then, that's about all for me today, I'll catch ya on the flipside.

Neal

16 Days and Counting!

Welcome to the first installment of the blog of Neal Oram, soon to be world traveller extrordinaire.

If you haven't guessed by now, I am heading across the pond to the UK to start my travels and see the world. This page you're on now, will be where I will be posting all of my thoughts dreams, some photos, and maybe the occassional cry for help...though I sincerely hope I will not have to.

Right then, I'm off to get some other affairs in order, and to rig up some new travel underwear and insurance...although underwear could be considered insurance depending on how you look at it. Ha ha ha. Hit me up at my email if you have it.

Cheers,

Neal