Tartan Slapper

We strolled through the hussle and bustle of the old port like an old couple married 40 years today. Stopped for Ice cream and them later some moules, Muscadet, and I bought a sailor cap. I felt like that old guy in Some Like It Hot who gets Tony Curtis, except I am relatively young and Agnes is 50 year old woman. I bought Agnes some very French thick stockings and we bought postcards - I sent one to Bob - Hi Bob - hope the pregnacy is going good, sorry about your complete loss of freedom ! I'm having a great time - not thinking of you ... Esten. I felt like giving him a call but I thought better of it - he would give me a bad time about Agnes if I told him.

Back at the hotel I played Agnes some of that Wireless and Under Mother Bungalow stuff I have been on about - and she thought it was weird drug infused stuff - I think it twisted her melons abit because she behaved quite strangely for an hour or so after - spouting strange existentail stuff like we are living in the inverse of nothing and can be flipped out into infinite nthing at any moment - she is closer to the big death thing than me by some twenty years so I can understand. We ate Lobster later and then retired earlyish but I couldnt sleep so I bashed this out on Agnes's laptop (very hi tech for a tarten slapper).

I Marseille, Its a wonderful Place

It turns out Agnes knows a guy called Mickey who lives in Marseilles and yeterday we paid him a visit in is little house out somewhere away from the old town in a kind of rough suburb. He is a greying tanned hard looking man with a rascal smile and a smokers voice. He was very pleased to see Agnes and they seemed to talk about money and blokes in London a lot. Then we went to a local bar and he splashed some cash around and we got merry and then spilled out about 8pm and went for a Moroccan Cous Cous. He was faily well spannered by the time we got him home asnd Agnes was a bit worried about him - she used to live with him in London about 20 years ago and she still keeps an eye on his health. I asked her what he did in Marseilles and she just said keeps his head down and minds his own business which is what I should do if I still wanted the comfort of a fine lady and my head on my neck. Nice.

We thn go a ca back to the Hotel and drank heavily in the bar.

I woke up this morning with a regal thumoing headache and snot and saliva on my face. I washed and then realised there was mud all over the flannel. Not sure where that came from. I spent half an hour tring to find a sock and Ages got angry and stormed down to Breakfast without me. I felt sick in the lift, but managed to wolf down a full breakfast of eggs and creal and toast with 3 cups of coffee and an orange juice. I filled myself up and became unsteady on my feet so headed back to the room - I read the Herald Tribune and about a place in Colorado called Telluride - a mountain resort — "charming wood-frame houses selling for $2 million and up, a little airstrip where the rich can fly in on their Gulfstreams or Falcon jets, the many residents whose lives consist largely of skiing in the winter, tennis in the summer and chartering yachts in the Caribbean in the spring and fall" and drifted into a fantasy about mega money - big sacks of cash, large bank accounts would preferable all in my name - with transfers happening with 8 zeros and nothing much to do other than party, ski and grab a bite to eat. I felt more sick.
Sleep intervened and I dreamt of Limbo - floating in an eternal jelly - Lime flavoured Jelly with a baby face and old skin.
Agnes woke me up and we have done a crossword - she really has taken a bit of a shine to me - where is this all going to end ?

Tartan and Sunglasses of an Older Woman

Phew! - got out of Naples. One hell of a lot of travel by train - a night stopover in La Spezia and then pushed on through to France and here I am in Marseilles - home of Eric Cantona ( I think maybe) and Zidane (maybe I think). I like the look of this place it has a certain ho hee ho about it and fishy hardness. I think I may stay here a while maybe two days. I have met up with Agnes, a 55 year old cruiser lady who seems to enjoy the younger man and who is not falling to pieces herself but has crinkled a little bit in the sun. She seems to enjoy her Gin and Sidney Sheldon novels. Her handbag is stuffed full of money and perfume and we have been having a bit of a wail of a time. I met her on the train up from the Italian Riviera where she has apparently been playing Poker and drinking alot, and we have hooked up in the same room (Mr and Mrs Smith) of the New Hotel in the Pharo area near the old port (very pricey and rich 5 star type hotel - not my usual style but I have to please the lady (and she is paying a hefty whack of the bill anyways.

Its quite an attractive traditional building which apparently used to be part of the former Pasteur institute so its says in my guide. On the inside it is very modern and chic and the drinks are quite pricey but who cares , the lobby area is laid out with dark grey tiles that I just want to rub my stomach on and Agnes bounded up to the large reception desk and started calling the girl a honey sweeteypie (thats what she is like). In the back of the lobby is an attractive lounge area, entirely constructed with glass which is real trendy and we hung out there for a couple of minutes taking it in, then we ascended the large dark grey staircase that leads to the first floor bar and restaurant area - hooray double gins all round and we descended into a night of oblivion and debauchery. Excellent. Agnes wears tartan alot and sunglasses most of the time - Sweet.... I'll let you know if she gobbles me alive - first blog from the stomach of a maneater - or if I can avoid her gut and move on with my life in an orderly fashion putting a wild fling with an older woman firmly behind me while accepting that it was quite necessary at the time for my development as a full rounded individual with the potential to do great things on this earth in the short (yes its very short really) time allotted to all of us for doing anything really. Anyway, this has livened me up a bit .... Adieu

Champagne and Red Wine all Afternoon

Still in Naples - yes never got out - but it will be soon that I get out and I think it will be therapy for me to go to Spain. I have been doing a bit of wandering and bumped into Frank again and he said that I was looking awful - and that I needed a stiff drink, which I wholeheartedly agreed with so we adjourned to small pizza restaurant and proceeded to drink red win all afternoon. I was in the mood to flash my money around so we drank the expensive stuff and it was very nice indeed - I did avoid he smokes though - which would have maded me chesty today, Frank told me about his rough youth in the Catholic side of Belfast and it sounded tough and rough and dangerous - he is lucky to be alive. We had laugh when the waiter came out and did a bit of a song and dance act for us - very forties music hall, and then the manager came out and told us some rude jokes which was nice - I cannot remember any though so tough. I did bend over double on the floor a couple of times and for an hour we were joined by some very drunk German women who looked about 40 and were out for a good time (it was only 3pm !) but then they started trying to tap me for a drink or three and I got fed up with buying them Champagne and it all came to nothing.

Lying on the floor looking at the door

Holed up here in my little Naples Garden Hotel - today no drinking whatsoever. Felt shivery about 3 hours ago and shaky. But lay on the floor listening to the Armchair Astronaut podcasts. That sorted me out. Ate a big fat juicy ciabatta and thought about womens clothing. It is a funny thing all that allure of the fishnet - sailors and fishermen spend hours repairing their nets - while lots of women go out in torn up tights and burlesque gear. This does seem to be coming in again - you know corsetry and just the thought of it makes me want to reach for my lemon vodka. A very boring day - nothing to report from the televisual scaletric brain of Esten Walker - walker on the arth and bound for god knows where - in search of the oblivion tree - there to climb and see the view - and probably fall off if my luck is anything like what it is at the moment - all my introverted self musing deliberations at Bracciano Lake seem to have come to nothing - I am as switched off as usual - I feel unable to really let go on this holiday and get out and about like I should - gor blimey. The sweat is pouring off my brow and I have a deep pain in my butt. Still should be better tomorrow - I think I might head off before the mafia get me.

Armchair Astronaut

I bought an IPOD NANO today 4gb and very tasty indeed. I did a bit of downloading of some of the best stuff I have heard on other peoples IPODs on my travels, and I must say that the absolute best for getting into a seriously random state in a hotel room in Naples is Under Mother Bungalow and Wireless - two bands on the Armchair Astronaut label (Brighton England) and they kick out some seriously weird and wonderful stuff, and they are not afraid to let it run its course - half an hour sometimes - Petra had three of their albums but I have downloaded their Podcasts - excellent excellent - I recommend this lot to you wholeheartedly - and even more so if you are lying on the floor with a bottle of JD in a Naples hotel room (unlikely I know - but there is someone doing it ). Go to http://www.armchair-astronaut.com and listen for yourselves - I'm gong to get in contact with this crowd - they are one of unique and I love em !! Their videos are awesome - just go to their video page, you will see what I mean. - Naples seems easier to take now I have some sounds to listen too other than car horns. zoooom!!!

Self portrait and drinking day in Naples

Had a good walk round town today - and have decided to stay in Europe - probably move on to Spain - I do think I can enjoy a long 2 day train trip round the riviera and down to Barcelona. perhaps I will break it with a stop off on Marseilles or Nice. So tahts the plan - start afresh and try another country for a while - hell I have the world in my pocket, I can do what the hell I want. I enjoyed a few bars and drank well today - Iwas in a good mood and met a few touristy types on blokey binges. The Italians on the whole are giving me quite a wide berth at the moment - it must be my eyes and my deep stare I think I am putting on in slightly jarring or boring situations. I guess I feel a bit inane. Slightly aimless and meandering. But my brown locks have grown to quite a tidy length and the vague hippy has surfaced in me. So I drew this self portrait (very loose) . I met up with Frank at 3.30 and had a bit of a row about his antics the other day and I then made up with him and we drank the afternoon away in a trendy moop top type place with lime green furnishings. I'll get you the name of it if I remember.

Plans

Got a few maps - feeling lonely coz now I realise that Petra and April are probably having a good time partying it up in Rome and I have to break out of Naples and head somewhere else - another country - maybe even the USA - or India. Went a bit doolally this afternoon in my room - restraining myself from over indulging the drinking side of my nature so I managed to keep myself down to six bottles of lager. The doolallyness of the afternoon started with a blackout and then fuzzy spotty vision. I watched out of the window as two kids played football near traffic and then wobbled a bit - I started writing poetry again and this is the result for better or worse

Ray Gun zapper
Whippersnapper
Who the hell do you think you are ?
Arse licker
Snot scraper
Who gives you the right to preach to me ?
Bag up your clothes in your
Old kit bag and march
Out of here into the great unknown
You black haired greasy monster wuth shades
Pointed shoes and amphetamine stare.

Look out World
He is approaching
Look Busy you workers
Do your 15 hour day
See if I care
I'm off out of here
And I am away to a tropical paradise
To try my luck at fleeting happiness
Goaded by my particular past

Maybe I should cut down my drinking ?

I feel I am starting to get to the heart of things - dredging up stuff from my past and rethinking my ideas. Taking a fresh approach to my life on the road - Naples has shown me my wilder side and also my more vunerable side. I miss mum and dad - and they got cut off too early by that car smash - so I have felt lost for some time - but now, here - amidst a continuing drinking and benson binge I think I am starting to see the wood for the trees. "I can see clearly now the rain has gone, I can see all obstacles in my way" - and one of them is Frank - the type of guy I fall in with (fall is the right word !) - because they are owest common denominator - i.e. we share the booze and the fags - think of little else - pontificate philosophy briefly and then return to the booze at hand - in fact very little hard core philosophising really goes on - it is mostly where you are going to get your next drink. So I have been thinking about this (obviously aided by a sweet white wine and sparkling water - for freshness) and i think I am going to have to cut down - horror of horrors. But the thing is I need a clearer mind to make some better decisions about the people I hang out with on these epic travels around the globe and also I need to straighten out and move on from the death of my parents. So all in all I think I am taking one small step for mankind - one giant leap for Esten. I will start by restricting myself to two bottles only of this Leibfraumuck. Good start - and I mean to go on as I have started so this should be interesting. Anyone still out there ? yawn ? yawn ? time for bed. (by the way please do read the poem I wrote yesterday that I posted on this ace poetry site, I think it sums me up pretty wellat the moment - by the way whoever Fester Bryan is, what a great name and what a top poet he is, I am a big fan of that geek - he seems to talk some weird shit but it sometimes makes a very vivid sense to me - is it only me ?)

Poetic Nature Bursts Forth

A long long day today with the inside of my head rattling like ball bearing in an oil drum. I stayed in my Hotel Garden Napoli and tried to fend off the blues by writing poetry. The aim was to write something I could be proud enough of to submit to my favorite poetry site for publishing and that is what I achieved !. You can read my epic abstract creation now ! on their front page - I am so glad I wrote it, it has been like giving birth to a mutant. Read it and see what I mean (It is a rich and life changing experience !).

Scotch Italian Style

I have had a bit of an adventure again - it all started with Frank coming round to the Hotel at 6am and yelling at the top of his voice about me coming down and out with him for an early beer at a little strange fruit and veg market down in the South of the city somewhere. I was a bit cheesed off but said yes in the end and ran down to my compadre and we wobbled, cheery enough to this little place. There were 3 Italians in this little bar that had been open all night by the looks of them and we actually drank what they were drinking which was some kind of dodgy Scotch - there was much back slapping and cheerfulness although I could not undestand much. Frank got well into it. After about an hour a guy walks in wearing a very natty suit and the others greet him like a long lost brother and he struts in showing off his shades and shiny black shoes - but then, you see Frank had been a bit worse for wear, well he bumps into Frank and Frank spills his whiskey all down the guy's purple shirt. Now he doesnt like that much and he gets a bit physical, but the others try to calm him down, but he has a really hot temper and at one point he has Frank's long manky hair pulled back , and he gives it a smell, and he gives it a second smell, and then starts laughing - "you stupido - you smell like a girl !" he shouts in quite good English - Frank looks relieved and I look at him - he says he had a wash with this chick's herbal fruit shampoo - which was lucky because I do not think he does that much. The suity Italian then proceeds to buy us a bottle of Scotch and engages us in macho bout of heavy drinking. We stagger out of there - rubbing our poor eyes at around 11am and I only narrowly avoid sleeping in the gutter. Oh well there is always tomorrow.

We're from Barcelona is a catchy tune

Heard a great tune today in a bar off to the back of central Naples near a big church - it was "I'm from Barcelona" or something like that by a bunch of Swedes - very catchy, very cheesey - so I asked about it and it is an album I recommend to all you pop pickers out there in dullsville or excitement city or somewhere inbetween town. Just remembered its 'We're from Barcelona" by I'm From Barcelona - again with the caveat that its something like that - lets not make an issue about it and get into a fight - like I did. Anyway so I have been active and energetic here today - with that happy tune running around my head - so Peace and Love and have a drink on me.
Here is jittery stop go stop go YouTube link for the Barcelona Swedish sound http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwwbXHNGsjU

Feeling Simple in Naples

I am feeling simple today in my delightful small and nicely named Hotel Garden Napoli. It has a big plus for me, being a city centre kind of guy it is just so well-located in Naples city centre, only 200 strides from the mayhem and canage of Naples central station. another thing that pleases me is that the room is air conditioned and light and modern, so I can Star Trek about without getting too hung up on the ancient history surrounding me, the family feuds that have gone on for centuries and the Roman thing, you know Up Pompeii can get a bit waring, even for a culture buff like me. There are cool (cold maybe) ceramic floors and swedish style pine-wood furnishing. There is a balcony. I can even watch cable television all day - cartoons and the news in Italian. I I get stuck in to a breakfast in the restaurant if I can be bothered to get up and not feeling too sick and hungover - which has not really been the case actualy this last couple of days. I have even knocked back a couple of large Scotch and Cokes (with lemon and ice) in the lobby bar in the early evening (late afternoon - i.e. the dead hours). So all in all it does me fine. I feel fine.

So watched TV today and drank vodka. Smoked 40 Benson. Played poker with myself and looking forward to Petra and April turning up. Frank gave me a wide berth but I did not know what to do with it - no I was glad - the guy got heavy yesterday, I prefer drinking on my own at the moment. Perhaps tomorrow will bring more adventure.

Robot Discussions

Another day in the bustling pizza flipping capital of southern Italy - grandi Napoli. More fish and more Frank, you know "what if everyone except me is a robot - I can only find our by cutting you all open", No Frank, do not go down that route, have another drink Frank and shut up . "But what if I am the robot ? and you are humouring me and amazed at my AI abilities, I will have to cut myself opn to find out". No, again Frank, No, have another drink, in fact here, have the whole bottle, go comatose and wake up tomorrow with another tacke on philosophy. Thats been the kind of day it has been. I need to sleep, I'll tell about this sweet little hotel I have found - my little secret bolthole - I love it - more tomorrow - ciaou.

Frank, Drink, Naples

I like Naples - there is a good vibe here - except of course when I got my wallet nicked this morning by pickpockets who bumped me and before I knew what was happening I'd lost it. But - you will be pleased to here that all I had in it was scrap paper because I am not stupid enough to keep anything valuable in a wallet - what do you think I am ? a complete idiot ?. So, I spent a couple of hours talking to the great Irishman guru, Frank, in a little square - with quite a bit of warm winter sunshine beating on our backs and nothing to do but discuss the meaning of life. That in fact was quite a short discussion - about 3 minutes, because we both agreed that we were not qualified, especially sober. So we discussed the frthcoming Republic of Irelan v San Marino game and expected a trouncing in the six nil area (but I hear that it was a flukey 2-1 - so bad luck little plucky San Marino I know you will win one day soon - 38 losses must come to and end in the end like we must all die and the sun will come up in the morning for the next eight billion years or so and the turn nto a giant white dwarf called Getoff and so on and so on - Plucky little San Marino the underdog. The dog that is under the table feeding off the giants scraps. Frank now trails around with me and of course I tested his drinking capabilities to the full this evening and moved gently on to the red wine at nine - ahhhh wine at nine - feels fine - who wants to dine when there is red wine at nine eh ? do you ? I cannot imagine who you are and whether you drink red wine - please comment back with our favorite wine and I will try to get hold of it and taste it.

Naples !

Ah! you may have been wondering - well I have made it to Naples. Ahead of the young women Petra and April - but I did bump into them briefly in the Palmo Expreso bar and they didnt two finger me or one finger me so I think they meant it when they said that they were already a bit sour on Rome and would follow me in a few days down here in beautiful Napoli. The picyure above is of Naples Fish Market and all sorts of fish abound. I have eaten three fish dinners since I have been here. Red Mullet, Squid and Octopus (sort of fish anyway) and Grilled Sardines. Fabulous !. My head is into gear and I have been cruising around. Today I spent all day in a local workers bar drinking Peroni in the dark and playing table football with a guy with one eye who kept spitting on the floor. I beat him eight time on the trot and he still managed to shake hands after. Long live Naples, long live fish and their longevity oils that help poor hearts so heavily beaten down by booze and fags

Hey ! I am feeling better

Yes - Hey !! I am feeling better than those turkeys with bird flu - I am not dead - I exist ! I am still able to discern who I am and ponder on life's unanswerable questions. So even if I feel half dead still, its got to be better than being delerious without boozing. So, anyway - I feel much better - and so I think I will gather my strength for the Naples fish experience. I spent today ironing my clothes. Now I feel ready. I contacted Bob back in Barking because he had to lend me some money because I had a mix up with bank accounts and now I wish I had sorted all that out properly. But Bob is good like that. I pondered buying a motorbike but resisted. I would only be able to afford some run down old wreck - so sod it I'll walk, bus, train and plane !. So Napoli domani. Pizza on earth - love Esten --- LOL

Rome Fever

I’ve had an attack of a virulent fever, and have been alternately very hot and shaky followed by excruciatingly cold for two days – but I am coming out of it now. A small doctor was summoned by a helpful staff member of the Aberdeen. This bearded medic wore dark round glasses and walked with a limp, he must have been only 5 feet tall and had a rather over ingratiating bedside manner. He carried an old battered black case with all his medicines and stethoscope and stuff. I must say that he did give me a very thorough examination once he had assured himself of my medical insurance (I think I can feel a claim coming on). He came to my room at half past two yesterday afternoon after I had managed to make it downstairs to call for help an hour earlier. Getting back up was a pain with a large American Women I the lift complaining about the smells. After the examination and his prescription he sat looking tired on my small bedside chair and asked me if I was married. I told him I was not and that I probably would not be here if I was and he then told me (in English with a thick Italian accent) that he was going through a messy divorce. His wife had been having an affair with a local shopkeeper and although he did not really mind that much about that, he could handle the deceit and disrespect. He had caught them at it a few weeks ago in his workshop (he makes models of cathedrals) and as he considered this his haven from the bustle of normal life he was particularly hurt. He had not put a single extra gargoyle on Notre Dame since. In my feverish state this story affected me and my dreams – after he had gone I entered an anguished sleep with fornicating gargoyles, hunchbacks and bells, screams and cries. I have now got over it and am ready for action once I have paid my bills.