CATEGORY / travel

Gay Paree

Greetings from Paris, my droogies. I arrived in London this morning after a restless overnight flight, only to be greeted with a UK immigration form with an official stamp that read, FAG. What could this mean? How did they know I was heading to “gay Paree”? Or was it a forewhadowing of the unspeakable liberties a Ugandan gorilla may be taking with me next week? Stay tuned, faithful reader, as this entangled web of juvenile banality unfolds.

The Eurostar train to Paris was quite comfortable. Europeans really know how to do train travel, The only down side was that after a day of enjoying complete mobile phone functionality on London’s tube, it was disappointing to receive no signal in the Chunnel! Possibly this was a good thing, as my calls are costing me almost $2/minute. Indeed, my plan blog from my Treo have been modified somewhat as data transfer from my device is costing me 4 cents/kB, which adds up really fast, Right now, I’m using my friend Lauren‘s computer to make this entry, which unfortunately means I can’t share with you (yet) the photos I’ve taken thus far,

I’m off to bed now after more than 24 hours (and three nations worth) of non-stop sleepless activity. Hopefully I’ll have something actually interesting to say tomorrow, but don’t hold your breath.

Countdown to Uganda

As the great Schiavo debate continues below, I just wanted to share with everyone a new review of my last book, this time in University of Toronto Quarterly. Let’s just say it wasn’t too flattering.

Meanwhile, I’ve managed to get almost all of my pending tasks completed! Yayyy! That means I can ship off to Europe this weekend for a few days of ostentatious tourism, followed by a lengthy flight to Uganda, whereupon I and two good buddies, Sean and Andrew, will trek through the jungle in search of the elusive and rare mountain gorilla, at which point we will feast upon its endangered flesh and claim its hide as our trophy, after engaging in some Abu Ghraib-style recreation, monkey-stylee.

Seriously, we are indeed trekking for gorillas in the Ugandan jungle. After paying our enormous permit, the government will provide us with a guide, a graduate student who records the gorillas’ doings (and possibly our doings –who knows what he is a student of?) and an armed guard. I ain’t kidding myself, though: if there’s any kind of trouble, I fully expect the guard to shoot one of us before he shoots the gorilla. The gorilla is way more valuable.

Do My Dogs Ever Hurt

This experiment in live mobile blogging continues. I’m still in Manhattan, though am hunkered in Grans Central Terminal resting my abused feet. Too much walking today.

At lunch today I met a talent agent who represents local news personalities from Ottawa! Also met his lovely British escort who, surprise surprise, was taken with my juvenile spoon tricks. At the same time I met a local musician and his wife who kept feeding me pancakes.

My friend, a local, commented that she had never known strangers to converse so much in a New York restaurant. “Welcome to my world,” I told her. Nothing brings people together like childish spoon tricks.

[Posted with hblogger 2.0]

The Gates

Got some minutes to kill here. Clearly my attempts to upload photos directly from my Treo to this blog have failed and I have no idea what chaos my attempts have thus far wrought.

I’m sitting on a bench on Central Park West waiting for John and Jennifer to come back from some snooty art gallery. Kind of nippy here, but not the arctic frost of Ottawa. I just walked through the park and saw the Gates — confounded by thousands of annoying tourists. Still, it’s a pretty scene and, given the price, it’s a wonderful exhibit. Later.

[Posted with hblogger 2.0]

  Previous Page

- PAGE 60 OF 61 -

Next Page