tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037Thu, 29 Aug 2024 04:10:12 +0000IrelandI'm going for a walk, I may be some time.http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)Blogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-3080538748706412374Sun, 09 Nov 2008 01:16:00 +00002008-11-09T02:18:18.917+01:00Lake Balaton’s morning breath condensed in heavy drapes on either side of the small road, replacing Hungarian countryside with a gauze landscape of soapy green and grey. Melinda’s father sat behind the wheel, his eyes scanning the slick road ahead while he kept the car at a polite pace – two acts that are atypical of the Magyar motorist stereotype. Unfortunately, given my level of excitement, http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/11/legacy-of-babel-part-two.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-2707975306272492679Mon, 06 Oct 2008 19:12:00 +00002008-10-06T21:13:17.560+02:00Walking into the Pergamon Museum in Berlin is like having half of your body transported back into the Classic era. Within its temple-like dimensions are partially reconstructed statues, columns, towers, gates and various other pieces of civic memorabilia from the ancient world. Where stone ends it is met with a blank whiteness – the fuzzy point where you must use your imagination or at least http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/10/legacy-of-babel-part-one.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-3428689424344091122Wed, 24 Sep 2008 08:44:00 +00002008-09-24T12:09:59.182+02:00Five German men boarded my sleeper cabin on the eastern outskirts of Berlin. Clean-cut, efficiently German and very polite, they introduced themselves with the offer of a cold beer before asking if I could move to the top bunk. Seconds earlier, two of the men had argued with the train steward about whether or not they could turn the cabin into a mobile bar. Whether or not they understood his http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/09/architecture.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-8496062879410504828Mon, 15 Sep 2008 16:06:00 +00002008-09-15T18:24:22.141+02:00The rules of etiquette suggest that you should never begin a letter with an apology. Maybe it has something to do with displacing the balance of power, immediately placing your reader at a step above you as the forgiver or, perhaps, because it raises the awkward social ghost of an outed faux pas.Whatever the reason, I've never been one for etiquette beyond the words "please" and "thank you", so .http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/09/some-footage-missing.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-8805271088830047099Wed, 13 Aug 2008 20:46:00 +00002008-08-13T22:52:41.961+02:00Before leaving the boat, everyone made sure that they were respectfully attired. This meant, despite the heat, wearing long trousers, shirts and closed shoes. It proved almost disastrous in the case of my feet, who still don’t forgive me for the Spanish tortures I put them through. But, there was a higher power commanding our dress code– we were to visit a 13th century monastery, and to this dayhttp://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/08/lonely-monks-and-rise-and-fall-of-greek.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-6264121849441597775Tue, 05 Aug 2008 15:13:00 +00002008-08-05T17:14:18.824+02:00“4...3...2...1...Let’s go!”Rocket-propelled, our taxi shot onto the opposite side of the road, overtaking the ambling SUV ahead of us as houses and trees blurred into streaks. Simone and I had sold our souls to the devil in the hope of finding internet access at Laganas, the party capital of Zakynthos.Free flesh, flashing lights, touts and drink coupons are all that this part of the world http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/08/flash.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-5979498708150426484Thu, 31 Jul 2008 17:32:00 +00002008-07-31T19:38:24.597+02:00JUBA, SUDAN - 1980This was a heat not made for mortals. Anco and Paolo wavered where they stood and lemming sweat leapt off them into the atmosphere. For Paolo, this felt like the end. Malaria had ignited a second inferno within him, and everything down to his bones was singeing into tissue-thin carbon. But at last he was leaving Juba.The airport was little more than a box built around a few http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/07/leaving-juba.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-7571943219796703590Sat, 26 Jul 2008 12:28:00 +00002008-07-26T14:31:39.953+02:00<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-AU ZH-CN X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/07/life-at-45-degrees.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-4425774698896368387Tue, 15 Jul 2008 11:23:00 +00002008-07-15T15:03:04.319+02:00It was inevitable that I'd see something burn before the weekend was over.But first -- a quick history lesson (and a flawed one at that, because I don't have much time to write).July 12th is an important date in Northern Ireland (as well as some places in the Republic of Ireland, but this is quite rare) and, at least on paper, appears to be a counter-balance for the green, Guiness fury of March http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/07/tent-shun-in-ireland.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-1121796087567835561Thu, 10 Jul 2008 09:38:00 +00002008-07-10T11:39:14.769+02:00Yes, a lot of people danced around Stonehenge to celebrate the summer solstice here in Europe, and yes, back in Australia there were probably naked bodies writhing by the light of a pagan pyre because the day was just too darn short. But, believe it or not, I think I experienced something weirder on June 21st.After receiving directions from a man with a ponytail for a beard, I boarded a bus http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/07/seeing-dead.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-2084118030683719259Wed, 18 Jun 2008 21:21:00 +00002008-06-19T00:35:14.136+02:00The chair across from me was occupied by a man in his early 40s; short-cropped dark hair and a very old-fashioned suit were all I can really remember about him. A muscular, white cat sat in his lap and, though it did not seem to mind being petted, it did not purr, nor did its large eyes suggest any awareness of the man's affection."Don't mind Mitzekatze," the man said, "he's been funny in the http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/06/moors-last-sigh.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-4049044881417400499Tue, 10 Jun 2008 15:02:00 +00002008-06-10T18:21:13.858+02:00The last time I saw Mary, she put her mouth right up to my ear and whispered: "Whatever you do, please sit next to him."The him she was referring to was Brian, a 35 year old man from Louisiana. He had come up to me at the bus station in Santiago, looking for his bus, which, as luck would have it, happened to be the very same one that I was catching. Mary and I were in the middle of our goodbye, http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/06/one-hundred-grams.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-3977842541813544214Tue, 03 Jun 2008 07:39:00 +00002008-06-03T10:16:07.691+02:00There is an older path that lies beyond the terminus of the Camino de Santiago. Striking out west towards the Atlantic Ocean, the Camino Fisterra has its roots buried deep in pre-Christian culture.At Fisterra, the End of the Earth, you can find a gateway to the underworld deep below the freezing waters. Here pagans came to celebrate the sun, watching as it fell to its death in the extinguishing http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/06/beyond-end-of-earth-back-to-field-of.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-5142058420429190513Mon, 26 May 2008 16:41:00 +00002008-05-26T19:26:27.904+02:00The young bartender adjusted his smudged glasses as he peered at our drunken faces."Do you remember how much you had? It was six, yes?" he asked.We nodded, not exactly sure how many beers our table had consumed, but six was an affordable number. As he fumbled with the till, we shook our heads at the thought of Spanish honesty -- no Anglo-Celtic pub would ever dare be so lax about their alcohol http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/05/off-beaten-egg.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-3182145163435566296Mon, 19 May 2008 13:19:00 +00002008-05-19T15:51:04.167+02:00...somewhere I passed an old man pushing a wheelbarrow. Hiw toothless smile touched me so deeply that I had a momentary impression that he was my father: a representation of The Father. Tears well up again and I am left speechless...my reality is shifting...why is it that I cannot recall the last few hours? This altered perception and emotional surge is overwhelming me. My heart feels so open my http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/05/sir-bawls-lot-worst-spirit-guide-ever.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-516448470638190026Mon, 12 May 2008 12:25:00 +00002008-05-12T15:17:27.974+02:00Dinner is a particularly fun part of the pilgrim experience. We call it the Game Show, and every time we sit down to a meal there´s a lot of hand-rubbing in anticipation for the frolics ahead.It works quite simply: you´re given a menu that is completely in Spanish. You have exactly ten seconds to decide what you want, before the camarero/a arrives to take your orders. As you progress along the http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-will-face-your-devils.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-2828814852812356064Wed, 07 May 2008 14:06:00 +00002008-05-07T16:43:18.737+02:00We met upon a mountain top, buffeted by rain and held down by overweight backpacks. At first I only knew of him as the Canadian, and we hobbled together, watching as speedier, less burdened folk passed us. Then, strangely, I also had a burst of energy and left my new friend behind in the mist.This was Naz, an amazing companion for my first two weeks of this walk towards Santiago. Slow, like a http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/05/ode-to-naz.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-4662761881804686113Fri, 02 May 2008 10:15:00 +00002008-05-02T12:47:07.249+02:00It is called the Santiago Shuffle.This is by far the easiest way to determine a pilgrim, just in case you ever happen to be hanging out in one of the many towns, villages or cities along the Camino de Santiago de Compostela. The most important thing is that you seem to move only your shins, your knees having completely seized up. And you only carry weight on the inner edge of each foot, as every http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/05/signs-and-wanders.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-2564972321027060711Fri, 25 Apr 2008 15:11:00 +00002008-04-25T17:39:55.897+02:00Galway, 16 days ago...Clemont: Ah, you want to walk St Jacques de Compostele? Are you Catholic?Me: No, I just like walking, that´s all.Clemont: And you start, where?Me: St Jean Pied du Port.Clemont: You will walk through Spain? Noooooo, you must start in Le Puy, it´s very beautiful to walk from there, I did it. It´s very beautiful.(Blaise nods)Clemont: In Spain, all you´ll find are, how you say..http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/04/le-puy-or-not-le-puy.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-1095962953225922762Mon, 21 Apr 2008 09:49:00 +00002008-04-21T12:41:51.030+02:00I had a bit of a love affair in Paris.She was a big girl, who, for a small price, would happily lift me into her arms and fling me about the place until I was giddy with laughter. Then, when she was spent, shed'd throw me out onto the street, and I'd be forced to find a real person to talk to.Her name was Metro and, when compared to the wheezing PE student that is Sydney's rail system, she is thehttp://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-went-to-paris-and-didnt-see-eiffel.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-2127910901651117511Wed, 16 Apr 2008 10:59:00 +00002008-04-16T13:28:30.702+02:00Take a moment to think of poor Rory.A Cork boy, Rory is cursed with ginger locks and an occasionally beetroot complexion, not to mention an accent that is sometimes completely indecipherable by even Irish standards. He studies computer science at the Cork Institute of Technology. And a few days ago, he finally worked up the courage to ask that pretty German waitress out for a "friendly night outhttp://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/04/tale-of-red-rory-and-tim-caterpillar.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-7401688758401501317Mon, 14 Apr 2008 15:47:00 +00002008-04-14T18:29:46.700+02:00Limerick's reputation has spread out from its industrial fringes like some oily stain, bubbling and flowing in so fast a manner that you have no choice but to yell, "Quick, Ted, quick, get the mop it's heading for the carpet!"A famous site for stabbings, gang warfare, and Frank McCourt's father abusing his mother, Limerick is an industrial carbuncle on the otherwise perfect, emerald face of http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/04/stab-city.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-7947314704907706308Thu, 10 Apr 2008 11:18:00 +00002008-04-10T13:46:55.528+02:00IrelandI haven't slept well for the last two nights. In some parallel universe it was because I was out all night, drinking copious amounts of cheap booze, or smoking hash with mushroom-infested hippies, or even engaging in multilingual hostel dorm orgies. Unfortunately it was all thanks to the wonders of some random French guy and a relentless snore that sounds like he's inhaling Clag paste through a http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-emerald-road.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-3931556146900974316Thu, 03 Apr 2008 20:13:00 +00002008-04-03T22:15:07.016+02:00"If that fekking idiot of a postman doesn't know that we live here, then they can just fekk off and get a local boy to deliver it. Ain't no sense in getting rid of the townlands. Stupid fekking house numbers and street names, Jesus."She was a young nurse, leaning back and blowing smoke out of the open kitchen window. This was the first time I'd heard of the townlands, and it would not be the http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/04/tales-from-townlands.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7607606062072677037.post-7406453814070254805Thu, 27 Mar 2008 19:21:00 +00002008-03-27T20:27:10.429+01:00IrelandFollowing the discovery of large amounts of copper amongst Stone Age strata, a special report was commissioned with the sole purpose of demonstrating that England was home to the only prehistoric copper-wire phone network. France, never one to be beaten by their Anglo neighbours, dredged up large amounts of plastic that may or may not have been buried under an old rubbish dump. The Gallic report http://idlefeet.blogspot.com/2008/03/not-quite-same.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Coprolaliac)0