The coach made it’s way North through the night before arriving early in the morning in Edinburgh. The same drab faces filed off the coach at a snails pace while waiting for the driver to move the ice barricading our luggage. And with that, we were off. Three Boarder boys let loose in Edinburgh, thousands of miles away from home and legal aid. Oh the trouble we could cause if we….. eeerrrggg….. coffee, need coffee. Lots of coffee.

And so it was done. Lots of coffee and a twenty minute walk through the snow to our hostel. At first glance this city is beautiful. The old architecture shows the true age, and especially at such an ungodly hour of the morning. At second glace it seemed the same. I was glad to see it hadn’t changed from the second before and went about my business. That business being slipping around on the ice from my damn boot with the weight of a small child attached to my back.

However, the final stretch to the hostel was a good one. Especially with the thought of a bed at my disposal. Mmmmmm, need more coffee.

So look forward to me finishing off the travel blog. I may have forgotten to tell you a few stories in person, and now you can catch up with my brain =p

The one place that really put a smile on my face as it was completely drum and bass. Ahh, Calex & Teebee, Commix and DJ Friction. And then the long trip home via a nice session of stumbling and late night buses.

And now we’re about to catch our coach to good old Scotland in preparation for New Years. From there, Eastern Europe. But for now my laptop will be left here in cold England ready for my return before I fly back to Australia on the 20th of January.

So for now it’s goodbye and see you in the new year.

Not a hell of a lot to be honest. Well, obviously we’ve just had Christmas, or ‘generic holiday’, as I like to put it. There has been a lot of drinking and eating fine, fine food. So much so that my belly is taking the brunt of the hard work. Poor stomach.

We didn’t get so much of a white Christmas as I had hoped for, however we did get a few patches here and there left over from heavy snows on days previous. I’m claiming it as a white Christmas dammit!

But snow……. exciting, hells yeah. And no, before you ask, I have seen snow before. But as a adult (age wise anyway), I haven’t. And by god I’ve never taken any snow photography before. Quite an experience for me.

I was acting like a little kid for most of it annoying the hell out of Matt as my frolicking turned to snowballs and finally into a crazed maniac with branches. Unfortunately I only decided to make a snowman the day after the thaw. The lack of substantial snow made this task hard and all I ended up with was Bernard. Not the most glorious of frosty humans, but he had character. Somewhere….. SHUTUP!

Bernard’s life was short lived. Poor little man.

Tom (other brother), arrived on Wednesday at a nice and early six in the morning. Even with a wicked hangover from the previous night’s drinking session it was great to see him, and even nicer that all of us three brothers are now in the same country. At least for a few weeks. So the family cycles start again. Doing the rounds with family members so he could see everyone.

Poor him though having to stay up the whole day on his arrival. Luckily Paul had come across to Aunt Sylvia’s place and cooked one of the best feasts I’ve ever eaten. Damn that man can cook! Kind of helps that he’s a professional chef, working for Rupert Murdoch. Our own personal chef, chuckle. He hasn’t changed a bit and is still so much fun to be around. I’ve really missed him.

The Christmas lunch was brilliantly cooked by my Aunt Valarie and I got to chat with much family that I haven’t seen in a good nine or so years. It’s crazy when time gets closer to a decade. Just the sound of the word decade is a scary one. *Hides under laptop lid*

My two cousins Toby and Jonathan have changed a hell of a lot from when I knew them as young boys, but I suppose you do a lot of your changing during your twenties anyway. I know I’ve changed significantly over the last six years. Ahhh, half a decade….. well…. not as scary as a full one. And I start my ramblings again.

A weird Christmas for this now warmly accustomed Christmas goer, but one to remember nonetheless.

And with that I’m off for a boxing day lunch with Clive and Fran. More food! But staying away from the alcohol I think. Good idea Ben. Thanks Ben

Not so much of an awesome ninja adventure at the moment is all I can say. London is so cold and miserable. I can see why a lot of great artists and writers come from the UK. It’s mainly because no-one wants to go outside, and they have to have something to do inside. TV wasn’t around for many centuries, so other than drinking, something artistic could easily be done. Well…. that’s my theory. And I’m sticking to it!
So after arriving and seeing Philip and Matt the next few days have been a bit of sightseeing. I remember seeing quite a lot of it from previous years, but this time I can actually see it and remember it. Even so, it’s a little mundane. But I suppose one has to do it. Like Buckingham Palace. I’d never actually seen it in person. But now I have.
Check list – tick.

I could spend time visiting a few other cities around England. For example Liverpool and Manchester, but with so much time planned seeing family, it’s going to be hard to fit it in within the week and a half bracket.
Next time it shall have to be, next time.
We are going to be going to Stone Henge though. A must on my list of things to visit. I’m even hoping for a naked photo for the continuation of my series, but the cost of going on a coach tour compared to hiring a car means that more than likely I’ll be surrounded by heaps of other tourists. So I’m not too sure if I’ll be able to pull that off. Fingers crossed though.

So walking around London with Matt, taking the tube to our many destinations. As a child I’d ridden on the tube with Mum and Dad many times before, but instead playing the whole follow the leader game. It was always a little confusing for me, but actually having to do it by oneself show you how easy it really is. Even after coming from our home city, which boasts an amount of underground stations less than the fingers on one hand; it’s really quite easy to get around. Damn London is big.

There are a lot of men having trouble with their umbrellas throughout London. So much so, that warning signs have been placed to make sure no-one gets caught up in their web of terror. Crazy Brits.

But one more trip into the centre of London, we will have seen everything we really wanted to see. So that’s it for today. The final sights and we can continue on to other things. At some point I think visiting our old home town would be great. I wonder if our original house where we grew up is still there?

Damn sun. Come on! Five in the afternoon is a ridiculous sleep in.

And now I’m here in England. The last time I was here was a good nine years ago, in the country of my birth.

I arrived in the evening at Heathrow. Nice and fed due to the flirting with a lovely hostess who provide me with as much extra food as I could eat, but completely tired. In fact, I hit the point of no return and the whole world turned into a giant dream sequence making my way via tube to East Putney and met Matt at the tube station.

It was great seeing Uncle Philip again (and of coarse Matt) and we headed out to the pub. Five pints later we were back at the flat, and after a sharing of music from all parties involved I must have passed out.

“So”, you maybe asking, “what’s been going on with this whole crazy adventure thing around the world?”
You may also be not asking this, but I should write it down anyway.
Anyway…. here I am, now sitting in a departure lounge in The United Arab Emirates’ Dubai.
Ah yes I see, let me back up a little so this can all make some sort of sequential sense.

The last entry that I posted had me entering the ancient city of Cusco after a fourteen hour bus ride. The likes of which was horrendous in many different and unique ways. No I don’t regret it (I don’t regret a single thing I’ve ever done in my life), but it certainly could have been better. I got to the hostel and dropped my stuff off before making a b-line for the on-site bar for a beer and some hot chips.
Over the beer my head did a lot of thinking. Subconsciously, but thinking nonetheless.
I wanted to go home.
RIGHT BLOODY NOW!
It could have been the cold I was looking after, or the underwhelming sense of homesickness due to the cold. It very well might have been because my foot was still hurting like crazy (still broken), and the thought of traversing the hills of mountainside Cusco did nothing for me except the occasional chill of disparaging pain.

I booked my flights right there and setting my leaving date as the next day. If I get an idea I tend to act on it immediately. What? There’s no point in hanging around doing what I don’t want to do is there?

Two days later I emerged from the arrivals gate at Melbourne airport and greeted by Mum and Dad. Wow it was great to be home.

The next month panned out with me chilling, seeing friends and realising how lucky I was to have the life I do.

“That’s great Ben, but what the hell are you doing in a departure lounge in Dubai?”. I’m getting to that dammit, just hold your horses.
While overseas, it was originally my intention to travel across to the UK after my South American ventures. Because of this I had organised to meet up with Tom and Matt (my brothers for those of you who don’t know), in Scotland for New Years. I couldn’t very well abandon them after the money they had forked over to meet up with me.
“Oh and by the way guys, I appreciate you coming over, but I’m not going to be there. Enjoy the expensive festivities!”
Hence, why now I’m waiting for my connecting flight to Heathrow airport. Another few hours and I will be back in the motherland for the second time since my emigration. I can see relatives that I’ve not seen for years, and finally do the proper touristy thing. Houses Of Parliament, Buckingham Palace and tea and biscuits, hey what what old chap.

So a quick overview of my plan is this. England for Christmas. Scotland for New Years. Then I fly to Germany on the 3rd of January before beginning a quick ten day coach tour through Germany, The Czech Rebublic, Slovakia, Hungary, Austria and then back to Germany.
From there, depending on who is free during this time depends on where I go from there. But I will only have a week. Before having to be back in London for my flight home on the 20th.

A hell of a lot to squeeze in, in a short amount of time. But you know that this is going to lend itself well to some more Wicked Awesome Ninja Pirate Adventures!

Stay tuned =)

The few hours of sleep here and there left me completely exhausted by the time we’d reached our first stop at around seven this morning. The driver had made up twenty minutes on our late arrival somewhere during the night.

Considering distances between stops and speed limits normally base the approximated time, the driver must have been speeding the mammoth of a coach along the winding narrow roads of the mountainside. This, I’m glad I was unaware of.
Every now and then I would loose my hearing, forcing me to awake and pop my ears from the altitude. The engine sounds would rush back into my head and I could go back to a restless sleep.

The morning rolled around and the bus stopped at a small village stop. A local feast had been put on (for a charge of coarse), including a local tea and lots of beef spit-roasted over an open fire. Seven in the morning is really not a great time to dive into char-coaled meat. Any other time is would be welcomed, but not now. Please no.

And the trip went on, giving us beautiful views of the mountainside and the small roads littered throughout the landscape. It’s a beautiful country.

I got a concussion. Sand apparently isn’t as soft as one might think. Especially after traveling down hills at speeds close to fifty or sixty kilometers an hour. The second last one I attempted was the problem.

Control was kind of in my favor, except for the ridiculous speed that is. Having to bend down and lean backwards meant that my hand was trailing through the dune behind me.

The first thing I noticed leading up to the tumble was my hand getting burnt from the friction, then my arse, then finally… smack. A roll, flip and jump down the dune. Sand exploded around me and covered me in a fine layer of crap. I even got sand in places I didn’t even know I had.

Once I had settled at the bottom, flat on my back and legs outstretched bright coloured rings danced before my eyes. I couldn’t move for a minute or two, but when I did rise, control of my limbs were limited to stumbling around. Way to go Ben. This is certainly relaxing and taking care of yourself.

Even though I did obtain these injuries, the first half of the dune was amazing. The speed was incredible and the adrenalin even better. If I hadn’t stacked so badly I would have certainly gone on another outing. Unfortunately I think that might be me for this trip. Until the next unique opportunity to injure myself arises once again.

The dunes were still amazing, giving you a real appreciation of exactly how a desert can be like. It was almost like being on a completely different planet. Without transport it would have taken hours, maybe even days to reach the areas we had visited. That’s why dune buggies are so great, and so fun when your driver is nothing less than an crazed adrenaline junky himself. Down close to fifty degree slopes the speeds before hitting the flatter ground were insane, the smoke pouring out of the engine nothing but a byproduct of fun apparently.

And then the typical nude photo. I couldn’t not. I mean…. look at the view. One of the better photos in the collection so far.

And finally the sunset over the Peruvian desert. Breathtaking, that’s all it was.

I’ve been feeling so very, very rundown the last few days. I wanted nothing more than to sleep and be back in the safety of my own home. Yup, I had a man cold, the worst kind of cold one can get. I really shouldn’t have gone out drinking last night. I hadn’t really meant to, it just happened that way. I’d met this British guy called James on the bus trip last night and he decided to come and stay where I was. He just so happens to be one of the most boring people I’ve ever met in my life. Anything he says is completely and utterly useless for conversation, fun and even energy. Just to drown out the drone of his Welsh Birmingham accent I kept drinking, stepping up from beer to elaborate cocktails of death. As soon as I could bare one second of his bullshit, my body had decided that it was time to completely give up and once again a bed was needed as soon as possible.
The surprisingly similar thoughts that he also felt it was time to sleep had more sway on the fact that he obviously didn’t like to think for himself. Doesn’t really surprise me seeing that he is an accountant traveling the world, not for adventure, but for the thrill of weddings few of his friends are holding. And no, please stop trying to teach me the Welsh language. I don’t care.

The hostel door had been closed by the extremely late time of midnight and no-one was answering the door bell rings or the door knocks. I ended up giving James a leg up over the back wall so he could open the back gate and let me in. A great first night.