Neil Coppen

writings/ plays/ poetry/musings/travel journals and newspaper columns

A Travel Rant- Gripes and Tripe

January12

Today and just today I am tired and over it all. Tired of everything. forgive me a little purging. Tired of buses, wailing babies, snoring passengers, stamps, boarders, bureaucracy, passports, ten day old pastries. lagubrious Cathedrals, oppressive histories, paper weight monuments, the obligation of sight seeing snap shots, wonder less wondering, retarded conversations, deceptive cab drivers, misjudging maps, distances, mispronouncing words, gringo charades,black snot, insipid coffee, the daily 60 m diarrhaea sprint, indifference, apathy (my own and others), the hungry eyes of skeletal dogs, hollow bellies of grubby kids. Yanky tourists fond of words like Skeeeeeedaddle and fucking A! Crooked politicians, poverty, rain, piss stained terminals, cigarettes, not enough exercise, disturbed sleep, long nights, dodgy hostels, persistent hormones, lumpy pillows, saggy beds, overhearing orchestration’s of neighborly loving/ waring through paper thin walls, cold showers, showers that shock, toilets sans seats, toilets sans paper,pubic hair clogging communal basins. Packing and unpacking, backpacking in general, buses( again for emphasis.) Spanish pop- the infernal, ever green and all night long Shakira and Enrique, Paul Simon pan pipe covers, bannanas, Che Guava, Gavarra, Guervarra-how ever you pronounce it! Expectation, altitudes, procrastination, acclimatisation, Internet cafes, soggy pits, blistered heels,smelly socks and sweaty bits, sleeping pill hang overs, old underwear, shrunk sweaters, over priced airlines, infected mosquito bites, groveling shoe shine boys, pin striped capitalists, begging misfits, blind accordionists, Barney the ubiquitous Plaza dinosaur. Bleeding saints, maudlin martyrs,words that wont settle, collaborate, wasted time, ideas, currencies and conversions- rampant crime, anthropological navel gazing, cultural pervesion. Wading through priceless Lonely planet metaphors such as : the constant hum of of hollering vendors hangs in the air like chanting in a monastery -erm??? Americans (again for emphasis) Coca cola, Beer, Aqua con and sin gas - Con is the fizzy fucker that erupts at the most inopurtune moments.The random finger lottery of ordering from Spanish menus, the culmination either tripe tatar, chicken claw soup, or if I’m really lucky- a nice wholesome plate -all expectant eyes, grinning molars, tufts of fur-of roasted guinea pig.

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