Journal 05.02.2026.
Present location - Blue Beach Resort
Sam Roi Yot (Hua Hin), Thailand:
Westen (Hua Hin, Cha Am, River Kwai), Thailand
Zim-Zala-Bim,
if the peasants cry from laziness disguised as stupidity, and whipping their
backs till they bleed is now illegal, one is forced to do the terrible task of
removing a table made from concrete from X and place it at Y (that being my
tiny veranda) themselves, because in the pre-historic age of socialistic
liberalism, the peasants here are in for a big surprise sooner than later –
just ask Donald.
6 days Barefoot through the Desert
- Eilat, Israel – continued all the way
back to Taba.
I have a BUS PASS. Now I used it to get to,
and check out, the underwater observatory and giant aquarium. This place is the
last stop South and then there is nothing for about a 15min drive to the Taba
border. Lame stuff. Alright for kids and
the entrance price nearly stopped my heart. Some bloke feeds the tame sharks. I
would have preferred to give him a couple of stab wounds to his leg and then
throw him in. That might liven up the show a bit.
Up to the top of the tower. Howling wind
as usual. A single person spiral staircase with a sign ‘No Descent’. Really.
Since no one was actually coming down the steps as I wheezed myself to the top,
I guess they all jumped off and fed the sharks.
Maybe I am just too old for this sort of ‘amusement’.
When it comes to fancy fish, I had several aquariums once. One was 660 litres.
I took out an extra insurance policy in case it burst. It was just an endless
drip-drip of money from my wallet as I would load it with bright shiny happy
guppies and angels, white shiny eels, and things with teeth and spikes and
often in the morning I would awake and gaze into the tank and wonder where 300
Deutsche Marks worth had disappeared to.
And that was that and get a bus back to my
50 bucks a night doss hole, for more Youtube documentaries and a 20 euro kosher
hamburger.
# # #
Going up north the following day and with
fuck all else to do to kill the day than walk it, I passed more of these pseudo
entertainment and things to do which nobody wants to do because it is all fucked,
I reach dead end at a bird sanctuary with a view of Jorden. But not before I
saw some monstrosities of hotels and a couple more of these shopping malls. It
is mind boggling that any one would even think the place could be some new
Monaco. All they had to do was look at that last shit hole I was in where
Prince Habby Dabby No Brains sunk 4 billion dollars in his version.
I am absolutely loving it. What a blast.
You can only appreciate the whole wasteland if you wasted… I pass some weird
pond. On the map and in the brochure the place was supposed to be…er. Not
really sure. I did see some tosser taking his dog for a run by holding on to
its leash out the window whilst he drove along the hard, baked sand of
this…er…pond shore. I had decided that as part of my quest, I had to reach
Jorden.
AND, there was supposed to be a bird
sanctuary there which was a little caravan (just like the one I had in Münich
once) being used as a shop with a weird French Jew running the joint. Loud
speakers blaring out Frog love songs. As the place is so popular according to
the blah-blah, the owner shat himself when I rocked up. I must have looked like
a tourist who has arisen from the dead. I certainly looked the part. Anyone
would have thought I had ordered a pint of blood instead of…a beer, the way his
face drained into that podgy complexion of a broken croissant…
So, I am sort of squatting/sitting in one of those awful hanging chair things on a fake grass lawn, and there is like, a couple of trees or three or four and surrounded by a wire fence. The bird sanctuary. It seemed rather quiet. I think. I had to replace my headphones onto my head blasting out Trance music to cover up the yowling of various versions of Je’taime.
After rolling another blunt, I decided to
check the place out. Fucking weird man, I tell you. There were, deep amongst
the foliage, some colourful parrots or whatever but…but, (now I started to
giggle) they were in cages and…you will not believe it…the fuckers are dead and
stuffed and tied to their perches!!!
I kid you not!!!
I started to look if they might have a
Norwegian Blue parrot pining for the fjords! (See pics.)
I was thinking – This is fucking too much
man! I can just make out the Jorden border fence with a mini look-out post,
with a flag pole with their flag and not the Jolly Roger, so I had some idea
that this was the end of the road, so to speak, and not the end of the world as
we know it, because – why on earth would you have this listed as a place of
interest unless you are as insane as I am!
How many lunatics actually visit. NONE.
Not only are the birds dead, everything is dead! Common sense never prevailed
here. The Promised Land – God help me… and he did because…
Actually… the sanctuary and border
crossing is still some schlepp away on the main road, not the dirt drag that I
dragged my stupid feet through. I had to backtrack, turn right and follow the
pictures on the roadside signs and I was there!
The real bird sanctuary was all very nice
and laid out for quite bird watching and free because I didn’t see one bird nor
anyone who runs the joint and I was the only person there.
The border was extremely busy at this
time. Hah-hah, you can hardly believe it. Bus after bus packed with Lebanese day
time poorly paid slaves with fast-track visas, going through the spinning gates
at a rate of one a second before the last rays of the sun hid behind the huge,
dark aboding mountains of naked rock.
THAT is because if they do not, they will
all turn into pumpkins. That is because yours truly in his idiocy had decided
to stay over Sabbath, which, it turns out, the Jews have managed to actually
stop the planet from spinning and everything turns to stone till Sunday - when
I caught the bus and almost fell weeping into the arms of my driver taking me
back to Sawa Camp.
THAT adventure cost me 600 euro for
basically having the pleasure of wishing the Israeli lunatics well, and good
luck, but in all honesty, Rhodesia had been a better place worth fighting for
because - beer was 25cents, coke 5cents, a packet of 30 Kingsgate 25c, a fillet
steak sandwich cost less than a Durex condom, we had Kariba for our shoreline
and beaches where we could hand feed crocodiles, we would stuff as many birds
as possible and never worried about shot-gun weddings because you had a good
chance of getting shot fighting for a real promised land, and get wasted on
booze cruises and more pleasures of the flesh than described in any fairy tale
book found wrapped in two thousand year
old scrolls in caves that only retarded Barberry apes would classify as home - God
was obviously blind picking this place for you lot…
AND – I still have no new shoes…
To be continued…
No comments:
Post a Comment