What a Cnut.

What kind of mail awaits me when I return to Edinburgh. Odds on there will be a red letter from the phone company demanding that I pay them or they're gonna send round the heavy squad to break my fingers. There will, I know, be a letter from the local council informing me that I am due them a couple of months rent and unless I pay them I'll be hauled off to court. Fuck them, I'll pay when I have the money. If I pay at all. Ho ho.

Well, the last month has certainly flew by. I fly out tonight at 19:20 and get back into Edinburgh at 12:30 tomorrow. Then it's back to work at the club where I stand behind the bar pretending I enjoy working there... But enough of that for the moment, there are better things I can write about than how much I don't want to go back to my job of serving pensioners alcohol. There is my desire to see some more of this wonderful planet for one. This trip to Africa has opened my eyes to the amount of places I can see, the people I can meet and the things I can do. Perhaps when I get back to Edinburgh I'll pack my job at the club in, get a job at the local Asda doing the nightshift stacking shelves, save up and take a year out and fuck off to the United States or travel around Europe. Perhaps. Firstly I have to pay my Dad back the money I "borrowed" from him to pay for my ticket to come over to Africa. I say "borrowed" 'cos I told him I had the cash to pay ...

We got back from Mozambique yesterday night at about 5pm. In particular my memories of Mozambique are of Inhambame being a place that I would move to in a heartbeat. When we all went there last week there was a parade on due to the new President of the country visiting. Flags of many colors were nailed to the trees at the side of the road and banners proclaiming who the locals should vote for were draped between palm trees everywhere. It seemed that everyone that lived in the town was on the streets singing and showing their support for the democratic process. How little they know, I thought. Just wait until they realize that democracy is just another way for the elite to fuck you over. Then the shit will really hit the fan again for this beautiful country and there may be another civil war. But I hope that doesn't happen. I'd like to see nothing but positive things happen for the people and the places of Mozambique and Inhambame. Wherever I go in the future there will always b...

I've never been one for mindless tourist tat. If you were to go on holiday and bring me back a stick of rock I'd probably attempt to insert it into your nasal passage. At best... While visiting uShaka land in Durban the week we were staying with my aunt Eleanor and uncle Reg I went and got myself a new tattoo. Just as a constant reminder of my trip to Africa. And, here it is... Aint it cool? I think so. And that's all that really matters aint it. If you feel like getting a tattoo then please remember that they are not easily removed and also remember that they do hurt when you get them done. Especially if you have sunburn as I did when I got this done on my back.

I've been getting a few hits enquiring about T-Shirts with the words "Trust me, I'm a Doctor." So When I get back to the UK my first project is to make one of them up on my cafe press shop and start selling them. I also want to do T-Shirts with the legends "Lesbian is for life. Not just Christmas" "Cogito Ergo Cum. I Think, Therefore I Wank." "Show Me Your Tits." I'm keeping a list of slogans that I can whack onto some shirts so keep an eye out for them in the future.

Well, my holiday is almost over. I've had a great time and over the next couple of weeks I'll no doubt be boring you all shitless with tales of my adventures. If I'm not in the tropical diseases ward of the Edinburgh royal infirmary suffering from malaria. Which is a distinct possibility as I didn't bother getting any prevention medicine before, or during, my holiday. If I do get malaria it'll get me a couple of more weeks of work. Ho ho.

If there is one thing I wish for right now it's for my friend Sara to be here and to see the things I've seen while on holiday in Africa. She'd love this place. Blue skies, blue seas and sunsets to die for. Perhaps one day I can bring her here and let here see them. Perhaps. Who knows.

I spent the first night in Mozambique having a lengthy conversation with Tami about whatever popped into our heads. And I gotta say I think she's one of the nicest members of the family that I've met. She's a bit on the quiet side but you can't fault her for that as she's only known me for a few weeks and some people take a while longer than others to open up to other people.

I've been reading like a fucking demon the last couple of weeks. Steve has made the remark that he's never known anyone to read as much as I do. I'll take that as a compliment. I think it's meant as one. Ever since I learned to speed read I have to say that my reading intake has been on an upwards spiral and that's never a bad thing. As the saying goes "knowledge is power." I'm considering doing a 52 books in 52 weeks project when I get back to Scotland. I'll take suggestions for what I should read from people I know and do a report on each book when I finish it. Any suggestions for what to read will be welcomed to the usual address.

I have a sign on my arse... It isn't visible to the human eye but it certainly is visible to the eyes of mosquitoes. I'm guessing that the sign reads something along the lines of "Free buffet. Bring the family." Because for the last few days in Mozambique I was almost eaten alive by the entire African population of mozzies. I did buy some Mozzie repellent from the Leith Army and Navy stores before I came out here but I reckon all it does is give my flesh a slightly barbecue taste to it. 'cos I can hear the little fuckers lining up beside my bed at night sharpening their proboscis and eagerly awaiting their turn on the juicy rump of me.

I'm rich, rich I tells ya. Mozambique is a strange place. The language is Portuguese, the people are African and the monetary system is a fucking joke. I never in my life expected to pay 78000 of any kind of currency for a bottle of shampoo. Until I came to Guinjata bay and I did. The currency here is called the mitacais and it's all fucked up. To explain it in a way that I understand it works like this... There are 12 south African Rand to the UK pound and three thousand Meticais to the Rand. Figure it out for yourself if you feel like kicking the shit out of your braincells. All I know is that if you want to be a millionaire in one easy step, move to Mozambique.

I have very little grasp of any language other than Scots. English would be a whole different ball game for me if I could be bothered to learn it. I'm having problems making myself understood in Mozambique as my accent is strong and my Portuguese is worse than shit. I can say "hello" and that's about it. Thankfully the locals here mostly speak English and if I was brave enough to try a South African accent I'm sure I'd have no problem being understood. But I aint about to go that far to make myself understood. I'll just stick to the good old fashioned point at what you want and smile technique. It's far easier.

Steve and I went to the pub today to watch the FA cup final and even though the game itself was shit I rather enjoyed it. Arsenal won on penalties after 120 minutes of, at times, dull and boring football. I spent the rest of the day reading Marian Keyes' book "Postcards from the bed." For several years now I thought women were deep, charismatic and enigmatic beings that I would never understand but this book sheds new light upon the whole female species. They're about as deep as a paddling pool. It's all about shoes, shopping and scents. Keep them well stocked in jimmy choos, give them a gold mastercard and let the rest take care of itself. There's nothing more to it. Or that's what I think anyhoo. Perhaps one day a woman will come along and prove me wrong but for some reason I doubt it. And that's not to say I am in some way ridiculing the female species. I'm not that stupid. Mocking women is akin to going for a swim in great white territory with ...

There are certain things in life that I've always wanted to try. Surfing has always been one of them. Been there, done that. Rode the wave, Swallowed the seawater, got the scar to show to people in the pub. Steve took me surfing last week while we were at Mtwalume and even though I can appreciate the adrenalin rush of surfing I don't think I'll ever be giving it a bash again. At least not in this lifetime. I'll leave that until I open my eyes and discover I am resident in the body of Kelly Slater. Or perhaps Eddie Aikau. Until the point at which I waded into the Indian Ocean the closest I've ever been to a surfboard was when I walked past the Quicksilver shop in Edinburgh and thought it'd look cool to have a half surfboard sticking out the wall of my living room. I've canoed on the Forth estuary and have ridden a few waves by paddling frantically to catch the rising wall of water, but as for actually surfing, never done it. Until that day last week when the...

If you said to me in a proud and happy voice "How do you fancy going to see a musical?" I'd ask if you had totally lost your mind. Musicals and I are like chalk and cheese, Oil and water, Armed forces and peaceful resolutions. But now I'm not so sure that this would be my reply to you if you asked me that question this week. Last Saturday Steph, Steve, Tami and I all took a ride into Joburg town center to see the musical Chicago. And, much as it pains me to say it, I actually enjoyed it. I was even singing one of the songs as I stood in the foyer after the show had finished. After the show finished we hopped into the car and shot across town to the restaurant " Moyo ". Take my word for it, If you are ever in Joburg do yourself a favor and book a table at this restaurant. It blew my mind. And that aint an easy thing to do. I've drank a bottle of absinthe in one night. Another thing to do, if you do somehow find yourself in joburg with no plans for what to...

In the last two weeks of my holiday I've plugged through several books. The list so far is... The Da Vinci Code. Dan Brown. Bill Hicks. Agent of Evolution. Kevin Booth. On the Road. Jack Kerouac. The monstrous Regiment. Terry Pratchett. The Wee Free men. Terry Pratchett. I've just begun Angels and Demons by Dan Brown and hope to have it finished by tomorrow night at some point. Then I'm going to take a bash at River God by Wilbur Smith as Steve has recommended that I do so.

Back in Joburg. I've had a very lazy day. I didn't get up until 1pm. That's awfully close to my rising time in Edinburgh but since I've been in Africa I don't think I've slept past 10am in the morning, for fear of missing out on seeing some new type of creature to question Steve about. I've seen so much wildlife while here that my mind reels at the thought that I haven't seen anything close to .000000001 of the animals and plants in Africa. In the last week or so, (I have no idea what date it is. Or what day. Holidays are like that.) We've been in Mtwalume , which is where my Auntie Eleanor and my Uncle Ricky live. The week has been enjoyable so much so that I am almost unable to describe the things I have seen and learned.

Also taken at Pilanesberg National Park.

I took this picture at Pilanesburg National park. I thought I'd pop it up here just to let you all see how horrible my holiday is turning out. Yeah, Right...

I've been making notes on the journey as I've went along and as a small experiment I've decided to type them out here as they are. Whether they make sense or not is a different matter. note #1 Kicking up dust in an African scene, Gineafowl scamper, skitter and skat. Kerouac invades my mind. I dig that cat. That real gone kid. The sage of the road calls to my soul and my heart is captured by the Moment, the Momentum and the Movement. All is good, all is Gone, but all is God. Note #2 A small bird with Brest of red Welcomes me as I rise from bed Chipper, chip and chirp it cries As I start to realize All of time is but a blink All I do is sit and think. Note #3 Sun City. Blackpool on acid. Las Vegas on Lithium. There are lion heads and elephant busts carved into walls of solid rock. But the rock is not solid and It's only well sculpted concrete. The casino is more crooked than a carneys wet dream. Buy the ticket and take the ride? More like buy a ticket and be taken for a r...

We've spent the last three days at Pilanesberg national park. Situated in the middle of what used to be a volcano, Pilanesberg is the most amazing thing I have ever seen. We arrived there on Tuesday afternoon and set up the caravan in the camping grounds within the park boundary. I lost count of the amount of wildlife that we saw. Fortunately Steve kept a running total. Elephants- 33+ giraffe- 10+ wildebeest- 10+ Zebra- 10+ Impala- too many to count but at a guess I'd say in the 60+ range. Hartebeast- 10+ Kudu- 10+ black backed Jackal- 2 Ostrich- 2 Springbok- 10+ Vervet monkey- 10+ Waterbuck- 10 Warthog- 8 Eland- 6 White rhino- 7 hippopotomus- 7 Sadly we didn't get to see any of the big cats, lions etc, but I'd much rather have not seen them in the wild than stuck behind bars in a zoo.

My cousin Tamilyn is a bit on the quiet side. A bit? I've heard louder mouse farts. But don't get me wrong on this, I am in no way saying that being quiet is a bad thing. Fuck, if only George W Warmonger was as quiet as Tami seems to be then we would all be living in a peaceful world where birds sang you awake with your favorite tune and no one would die in any war. People are different. That's what makes the world go around. Though I'm pretty sure that's got something to do with physics and the movement of planetary bodies in space but you know what I mean... I told Tami that I found it very disconcerting that she was so quiet tonight and she told me that she was "different when [she's] drunk." Ahahaha. Aint we all. My mission is set. Get Tami drunk and see what really lies beneath the cool exterior of this attractive young woman. And do not think for a second that I'm gonna try to jump her bones, I'm merely intrigued by the silent type. They ...

I've been in south Africa for a couple of days now and I'm having the time of my life. Steve, his wife Steph and my cousin Tami have made me feel very welcome and I'm busy trying to think of something, or somehow, I can show my appreciation. Perhaps a Vettriano print for the wall of their house? Fucked if I know. Any suggestions drop me a line. This evening was spent at lusito land which is a yearly benefit concert for handicapped Portuguese kids. The atmosphere was fantastic. If you ever held any preconceived notions as to what an African benefit concert was all about the forget it bubba, it aint jack shit like what you ever expected. The first thing that struck me was the fact that south Africa is a multicultural society. There is no race divide. It does not exist anymore. If it ever existed in the first place other than in the minds of the whites. Perhaps before apartheid it was different but I saw very little of the divide at lusito land. Whites danced with blacks, Por...

I arrived safely on Sunday morning and met up with my cousin Steven and his daughter Tami. The weather has been amazing and I am loving every minute of it. Last night we had a south African BBQ while sitting next to the pool. While Tami and Steff (Steve's wife) went out shopping this morning Steve and I hopped on his motorbike and took a trip to the Kyalami race track for a motorcycle expo and show. I'm not sure what was better to look at, the bikes or the brolly dollys who were dotted around the place. The choice was difficult to say the least. Do you slobber over a serie oro MV Augusta and look like a petrolhead or slobber over a brolly dolly in a tightfitting lycra body suit and look like a pervert... Tough choice huh? I have sunglasses that hide my eyes so I did both.

From my notes.. I got dropped of at Edinburgh airport by my mum and dad. My flight was scheduled to leave at 5.45 but due to my mum not wanting me to miss check in we left my flat @ 2pm. Nothing like erring on the side of caution. I said cheerio to my mum and dad and watched as they pulled away. As I stood outside departures I began smoking like a lab beagle so that I could put up with the prospect of not being able to light up for the next 11 hours or so. By the time departures were open I'd smoked enough cigarettes to kill a reasonable sized mammal and left a pile of dog ends large enough for someone to trip over. I picked up my bag, slung it over my shoulder and headed towards check in. No turning back now. I checked in at gate 38 and as I had another hour until the flight I made my way towards the smokers section of the airport. While I sat reading my book a guy in a business suit struck up a conversation with me. He explained to me that he'd been stuck in the airport for s...