January 12, 2017 §
It is funny when I find old notes from previous holidays previously disregarded. When I look back at some trips there may be one or two things that I always remember that trip for, but then when I find my old notes from that trip I find those one or two things were never even mentioned by me at the time. When I put old notes that I have just rediscovered into my book so often they instantly become the best and most powerful part of the book. Munich is really where it all began for me. It is where I was born as a European traveller. I got the Eurostar to Brussels and after taking no more than one step outside the Gare du Midi station into the alien Brussels street, I changed straight on to the night train to Munich. Arriving at the crack of dawn next morning with no German language, no German money, nowhere to stay, that is where I began to learn how to be a traveller. That was the start of my first Grand Tour. I itch to start another (literally & metaphorically).
January 8, 2017 §
I want to travel in ice and high mountains again; I want to set sail on stormy seas, and leave this safe port that has made me so soft; I want to sail once more through narrow channels between sheer rock cliff faces like Jason & the Argonauts, with the risk of being crushed at any second. Danger is my middle name. I thrive on danger. I thrive on danger, and masturbation. These are my fuel. Funnily enough just a little bit of research shows there are quite a few strip clubs in Munich—or tabledance clubs, that dread, dead expression—all within quite easy walking distance of the Hauptbahnhof and the Intercity Hotel, not just Atlantic City in Schillerstraße and Sexyland in Goethestraße; but I don’t think I will bother, still. I like things to be really close to me, so it is easy and convenient and Atlantic City and Sexyland are just so easy to cross the road and stroll across to, across all those cris-crossing tram tracks. How hard it is for an Englishman to step on tram tracks and not constantly think they are live! How many Europeans must come to England and electrocute themselves on tube or train tracks as they are so used to tracks that are not live! How many Europeans who stand waiting for the green man before crossing a road even if no traffic is coming must be absolutely shocked and horrified when they come to London and see how people just plunge into the hellish traffic and expect it to brake and swerve and avoid them!
January 2, 2017 §
As you can see, I am obsessed with those nights I spent in Vienna, Berlin and Munich. It is like I am still living in them. I go back to experience them again but am disappointed. Those places have gone and I have changed too. The ice has retreated across Europe but the ice has retreated inside my heart, inside my soul, as well. Love is in my life now, and that has melted my great glaciers, my icy peaks, my icecaps. Now my rivers are starting to flow and surge, my empty valley beds are filling again, and my land is becoming green and lush, like Madeira. Yet still I keep thinking about those nights in Vienna, Berlin and Munich. I go back out of nostalgia, to see if there is anything at all of the old erotic breathless excitement I can squeeze out of them like a sponge. A few cold drops is all.
January 1, 2017 §
I have already crossed Brussels off my list, as much as I love Brussels Grill and Cafe du Dome, and Cine ABC and Cine Paris; and I have already crossed Munich off my list, as much as I love Rechthaler Hof and Atlantic City; now I disappointedly cross Vienna off my list as well—I have found nowhere that I would want to come back for. Nowhere did I enjoy a nice meal, and nowhere did I have any great erotic arousal at all. Vienna actually worked out quite cheap, as there was nowhere I wanted to stay any longer than I could finish my bottle of beer. Trying to down the beer so quickly is why I felt like I was going to die last night, and had alcohol-induced fever again. What happened to the excitement I felt when I came to Vienna in 2002, 2005? If you keep coming back to the same place I suppose you will lose the excitement. I think I was so desperate back then I was excited by any crumbs of eroticism—now I am very hard to please indeed. The Fortuna Kino was the highlight of the whole trip, and that says it all. So that just leaves Berlin as the only place I would still want to go back to. I feel at home there.
December 28, 2016 §
Freezing cold air therefore turns me on. It brings back such strong memories of those nights in snowy Berlin, snowy Munich (the ‘night of the snow’ when Patricia told me that Bella Rosa loved me, and in shock I went to Emily who ran a cotton wool bud dipped in champagne around the head of my manhood; incredible, extraordinary memories!), snowy Vienna, searching for Tingel Tangels and Go Go Bars. The legendary night in Vienna exploring the whole western side of the Gurtel in thick snow and treacherous ice when I must have slipped over at least 20 times as the doormen watched me impassively. Every place a disappointment until I got back to where I started, and ended the night in Pour Platin next to my hotel, and finally lost my Vienna virginity to the amazing 10/10 brunette Maria.