Once more into the breach, dear friends.
Games are temporarily out of the equation and as a consequence, I’ve run out of all the excuses that usually keep me from writing. So, without more ado, commence ye glorious blabber:
A mate just got back from his three-month training stint in Malaysia with the Reserves. And truth be told, the whole affair looked far more like a government-funded Cancun vacation than a term of national service. After sitting through what could just have easily been a Balinese tourism brochure for an hour, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need a holiday. Bad.
Somewhere amid the reckless succession of picturesque glamor – each photo rife with its ancient temples, sandy white beaches, and oodles of unfamiliar flora and fauna – was a good time that I’d apparently missed out on.
Now, I’ll admit, I’ve never been to Malaysia, Singapore, Bali or Thailand. And even if every second of my mate’s photos were just hot pics embossed with a young lass, followed by the caption, “that chick has big cans”, I’m now tempted to visit them on aesthetics alone. Bar New Zealand, and a short stint to Europe as a kid, I haven’t done a lot of travel abroad. I’ve never really felt the need to – there’s more beaches right here at home than I’ll ever have days off to visit.
So normally, a night of happy-snaps wouldn’t have phased me.
Normally, my idea of a top getaway is a good surf, hot chips on the beach, sand between my toes and a stormy front coming through. Yep, that’s right. A storm.
The kind of storm that sets your teeth on edge. The one where looming clouds roll eerily on up from the south; where there’s a snap-change in the air and every fiber of your being crackles with anticipation; and the deep calm that settles before it hits. The kind of calm that even birds daren’t disturb. And later, the giant metronome that thunders against the rock shelf while lightning plays out across a black sky bay. Good company and a few half-empty bottles of red. The kind of bottles that you watch through the flicker of a log fire with a stupid grin on your face. A warm bed. Yep, I could set my life-beat by that shit.
So I put it to you, puppets: where, of your holiday picks would you go (or go again)?
what's this do? | doy | 31 August, 2008
interesting topic… I booked tickets to Fiji today.
Hrmm, if you’re after the beach life etc, then I’m not really sure. I tend to gravitate towards snow capped peaks, hiking etc.
So, I’m extremely anxious to travel to Nepal and South America (Andes baby!). As well as Eastern Europe (Armenia etc), and the middle east (Iran, UAE, Oman).
A friend of mine was from a little greek island called Kastellorizo, which, judging by pictures and her tan upon coming back every year, looks incredible if you just want to laze away the day on beaches and around locals.
Oh, and I’ve heard very good things about Morocco.
I HAVE to go back to Japan. I’m in love with the place – not so much the cities, though they are awesome, but the less populated areas to the extreme north and south are where the ancient ‘soul’ of the country lives on.
^^ was me