Chapter 16
On the ninth Day of Christmas...

On the ninth Day of Christmas...

A plastic bag over the head


Hello, While I sit here in this tiny internet cafe in Loja, southern Ecuador it concerns/ bemuses me to observe the sort of stuff my neighbours spent their $1.20 an hour on. The bloke on my left is flicking between a porn site and a chat-room (do your children use chat rooms??!!) and the two women to my right have just visited a site on breast-enlargement. I don't know how to say this, but ...they might like to consider plastic surgery a little closer to their hairline. Easier and cheaper might be a plastic bag over the head.

Within 2 hours of sending the last message I had fallen off the wife and burnt my leg on the exhaust, leading to me being laid up for the past three weeks. It is healing nicely now and I hope to be in Peru very soon. C'est la vie ....

My French is still better than my Spanish. Why didn't the berry/stripy shirt/garlic brigade from across the Channel (a third force -whose language I speak fluently- will never be successful worldwide, because they fail to realise that no Empire was ever built by occupying the deck chairs with beach towels alone) invade/ colonise Central and South America? It would have made things so much easier ....


Since I last clogged up your inbox I have ridden a grand total of 350km and spent an average of 3 hours per day in the internet cafe -processing my inbox, reading newspapers, motorcycle website etc.

There are so many linked to I feel quite humble. Thought I was doing something special ... It seems that every man and their dog (yes, some do take their canine friend!!!) is wandering around the planet on a motorcycle.

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Last time I asked who still reads my messages.


Here is a snapshot of the responses to my last mail:

  • I got nearly 300 replies. A few just said 'I read you'. Lots of you took the time to write a few pleasant words. THANKS! Some said they wished they were doing what I was and seemed bored of their mundane work routine. It may appear strange, but even though I'm laid up (as opposed to getting laid...) I haven't got round to dreaming of being back in wet England (has it stopped raining yet?). I have to remind myself as to how lucky I am to be swanning around the world with a huge dust cloud in my wake (that is what it is like sometimes at least).
  • All this does mean about 100 dud/still no response addresses, which when I get round to it, will be given a final meal (of frijoles) and taken out at dawn...
  • One good friend questioned whether I had 450 friends... I don't. I just collect every semi-illiterate halfwhit's email address and shove it on my list. - Now we will see who REALLY reads my missives....
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    One or two were concerned that they were one of so many getting the same mail. As this is the time of the year where postmen get backache delivering all your Christmas scribblings, how many of you can honestly say you write something different on each card? My ramblings do take a fair bit of time and effort to compose. It is my best work (....good night!). This, by the way, is MY Christmas greeting... No cards from me this year. Can't afford the postage.
  • One whinger -who didn't like my sarcasm and claimed there was a definite correlation between my hitting that drunk in Quito and me mentioning that US foreign policy had scuppered my travel plans twice too often- has already been executed.
    So folks, I wish you all lots of fun during the Festive Period and The Very Best for 2001. Hope to see some of you then too.... My American readers might also soon be freed of the joke that is your Presidential Erection.


    Shiney side up and all that, Yours, No Mates Bright
    RIP 'Norman' Born Malawi February 2000, MIA Mexico August 2000

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