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Thursday, June 30, 2005
Le Havre, France
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Somewhere in an anonymous office, a mousy haired youth with poor posture listens to a rushed conversation being spoken in a language that he strives to understand.
I try not to be arrogent about things I've done or am about to do, but the email I just recieved from my best friend in Canada, who is Columbianm sums everything up far to perfectly for me not to share.
" i just read your site and got a better comprehension of your trip...
again man, bad idea...
We used to live near turbo... turbo is the poorest region of colombia... it's like harlem, all impoverished people... aserradero covadonga, "sawmill covadonga" but it might have closed down already... we used to go to capurgana when i lived back there... beautiful place...
anyways, why im saying to be careful is because in the colombia venezuela border there is a lot of guerrilla activity... pretty much anywhere east of santa marta in colombia is full of guerrilla rebels.. they routinely make busses and trains go through checkpoints, and if they see anyone worth it (ie. worth more than a couple of thousand bucks) you're kidnapped... the atlantic coast (barranquilla, cartagena) is a bit safer, but once you go into uraba (Turbo) it's packed with guerrilla activity... i don't know what else to tell you man... there's a chance that nothing happens, but it's still a huge gamble... if you are still gonna go through with it, i dunno what to tell you.. i can give you some contacts in barranquilla and cartagena...
and play it smart, contact the canadian and british embassies, im sure they'll have better advice.. let me know what your gonna be up to asap... if there is any way you could go from venezuela to central america, and then head west to panama, i'd suggest you do that in a heartbeat...
i don't mean to bash my country like that, i mean i love colombia, but it can also be a really fucked up place .. anyways let me know whats goin on.. give me a call if u can... later bro "
Boasting is so guilt free when they are not your words!
But seriously folks, I've done all the research I can, and will honestly not be hanging around anywhere long enough to be noticed.
I am here for another day. Before heading off. One forgets the everpresent delays that surround all things maritime. The sea is such a beautifully unpredictable thing.
TTFN
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Posted by devon @ 10:49 AM CST [Link] [No Comments]
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Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Le Havre, France
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Somewhere in a northern french port, an unshaven foreign young man walks aimlessly through the forgotten empty spaces between a confusing jumble of transport routes.
Its strange to remember the way people look at you when your walking down the side of a road that clearly isnt meant to be walked on.
I've had a very interesting first day. Everything is coming back to me. I couldn't help chuckling to myself as I waved back at a woman looking worryingly at me through a ground floor office window. She worked in the port authority reception and had arranged for a taxi to take me to the shipping office that I had asked after. I remembered as I got into the vehicle that something about my face and my demeanor seemingly gives women an undeniable desire to mother me, a suspicion that has worked to my benefit countless times over the past few years.
The most vivid recollection is how much of all of my travelling success relies completely and wholley on the kindness of others.
I was planning on a detailed description of how my day has panned out thus far, but considering that I am ready to turn this god-forsaken french keyboard into an electronic casserole through means of extreme violence, I think not. They have been less rude than expected, but I still find the insatiable desire to develop completely different systems for common things a distinctly infuriating characteristic of the french nation. Ironic that as the brits celebrate the 200th anneversary of the battle of the trafalger, I am forced to lament a failed attempt to rule the world. Old ideas and historical hang-ups are so boring and counterproductive.
On the other hand, thank fuck for the metric system.
On another page, it turns out I speak french! This is odd considering i dont remember learning it at school (was permanently kicked out of the entire french program for humiliating my teacher on a daily basis) and only really spent a few weeks in french speaking places on my trip.
strange, but helpful.
strange, but wonderful.
For the sake of my own sanity, here is my day in list format:
patchy, fitfull sleep aboard a p&o ferry across the english channel, broken up with pisstake amongst the crew members.
announce my presence at the port authority, and establish at least the 500th mother on my trip.
Get driven by a taxi driver to security, who sends me somewhere else. I give everybody a hard time (body language can be devastating) due to the taxi meter continuing to run.
Finally get past security and dropped off by the now crestfallen taxi driver. he pouts and takes 50 cents off my fare. a small victory.
I meet my man, mr. Boyanvalle, with a chest like a bear and a face like a hawk he jokingly pretends not to speak english.
He lets me leave my bag at the office and tells me to phone him at 22 00. its time to go to town.
Wander like a true vegabond through the byways of the industrial trading purgatory that is Le Harve port before ending up at bustop with an intimidatingly large, costumed west african man.
I observe the strangely located rundown shanties that appear to be a small oasis of humanity amongst a sea of lifeless industrialisation. The broken windows, prams, and multiple children on single bicycles prove this to be true, and i begin to be nervous.
The bus arrives, and carries me half dozing to the center of town, where I wander to a park and fall asleep under a tree reading a short story by Marquez.
I end up eating, then going to an internet cafe, where I have just realised that i have been completely and utterly theiving of another mans writing style.
Worse crimes have been committed.
For instance this fucking keyboard.
I've had enough.
I'll (hopefully) be jumping on this banana boat this evening, arriving in martinique in around 11 days. To entertain myself, I will read, exercise, kid around with the crew, play my guitar, listen to music, and reflect on what a rediculous thing I am doing to the ever soothing ambience of the ocean waves washing up against the hull of my ship.
We'll catch up in the Caribbean.
TTFN |
Posted by devon @ 07:27 AM CST [Link] [No Comments]
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Tuesday, June 21, 2005
London, England
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In a revibrant enclave of north london called shoreditch, a travel weary young man sits in an internet cafe nestled amongst graffitti'd shutter doors, off license mini markets and a constant trickle of edgily clad artists.
or so a more kitsch post may begin.
I'm vauguely remembering how joyless this process of expunging the raw details of my mobile existance can be when i'm tired and its fucking hot outside.
For those of you just tuning in, I left home a couple years ago to go travelling, and took a break while I did a little bit of reading and a lot of celebrating (for what occasions? the days of the week of course. Monday night at club whynot? standard.)
I'm now on the road again, leaving this funny little island in the same fashion that I arrived, with 5 days of brain trauma, severe inebriation and more live music than the sun. In a word, Glastonbury. Glastonbury is more or less the respected leader in the world of music festivals, and I was lucky enough to roll out of bed one sunday and get tickets on my first attempt.
This time I've traded in my mum and my little brothers motley band of friends for a group that may or may not resemble a peer group.
I leave on a cargo ship from a french port a couple days after the festival.
To be honest, I dont know what to think of everything. Its hard to make sense of your life when you've been around so many different people and environments over three very impressionable years. I know that I really care about people, and that sometimes when I think about things that happened during my trip, like people fighting through crouds of people just to shake my hand, it makes me want to break down. There is so much sensless madness out there, nothing seems to fit quite right at the moment.
Mostly I feel guilty.
I wasn't even raised catholic.
To shamelessly quote myself, I'm now leaving "europe, the bosom of my happiness" and I couldn't be more pleased. I'm returning to the grotty world of devo-travel for a short time, after which I will go and see my family and close this fucking unintelligible chapter of my life.
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Posted by devon @ 03:24 PM CST [Link] [No Comments]
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Thursday, June 16, 2005
Edinburgh, UK
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This will be the last post from Edinburgh untill I return next year for the beginning of University.
I'm leaving on Saturday, after placing all my things at a friends house and tying up loose ends.
There is a bit too much for me to reflect on, so I'll just keep it simple and give a general post of whats going on.
I AM GOING HOME!
Fucking finally.
On saturday I'm heading down to london-town, where I will stay visiting family and friends untill Glastonbury, the undisputed heavyweight champion of music festivals. I will most likely wander dazed and confused back to london afterwards, and arrange getting myself down to Le Harve, in France.
For all the things against me, I actually managed to find a boat heading to the caribbean. It leaves on the 30th of June and I should arrive in Martinique around 10 days later. To be honest, I think all of this is hilarious.
I'm getting dumped off on this little French colonial vestige of an island, from where I will have to randomly ferry my way to the Venezuelan coast. After that I'll be traversing the americas in those charming tin funk-busses untill I get to a little port called Turbo on the Caribbean coast of Columbia. Mmmm.... I can almost hear the giant dysentry beast lurking behind me. We have a special kind of relationship me and dysentry. Old pals now. From Turbo there is a fairly regular ferry service to Capurgrana, in jungly bits of the isthmus that connects North and South America. After that details get hazy, and it looks like further transportation will most likely involve me buying jungle juice (sugar cane whisky!) for short, stunted imbred central american indians. Thats Kuna's if you want to look them up.
Brilliant.
I dont know what to look forward to more; the intense harrassment, shitting liquid fire, 3 weeks on constant motion, complete uncertainty or the fairly realistic threat of death.
It's going to be a giggle folks. I'll be shooting film the entire way and keeping this website updated.
I most likely will nae get the opportuna'e tae fire offa upda' till just before I leave.
So get-tae ----
TTFN
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Posted by devon @ 10:19 PM CST [Link]
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