Serbia, Montenegro, Croatia and Bosnia

63 days into it, 12 countries down and its just about time to say goodbye to the east of Europe...the 5'o'clock shadow i was hoping to cultivate into the rough, wiry, chiseled look hasn't amounted to much more than patchy bum fluff, I'm tired, a little dirty and sick of showering with shoes on. Ive learnt some invaluable lessons - underwear can be worn for at least 4 days and possibly 5 if you don't mind turning them inside out, taxi drivers are less trustworthy than gypsies, don't ask Muslim women if they find Ramadan a good way to loose excess pounds and never, ever, get you haircut in Poland...

The last few weeks have seen me visit 4 unbelievable countries that have, without doubt, left me on a massive high as i leave this leg of the world trip...

I left Macedonia and took a 12 hour bus to Belgrade, an edgy city that isn't much to look at but has a great feeling to it. The bus rolled into the city around 3am and as we all got off i realised that being in a dodgy downtown Serbian bus station at 3 am wasn't ideal...and almost as i was thinking this i saw a pickpocket quickly and quietly helping himself to my fellow passengers pockets...before i could think of something sensible to do i heard myself shouting, "Hey you bastard what the hell!" and as the words came out my mouth i immediately regretted it - he stopped, looked at me with the eyes of Lucifer himself, and began making his way straight towards me...oh Christ oh Christ...as he did i tried to gesture to the other onlookers in my best Serbian sign language just what the hell he was doing and as soon as they realised what was going down i became witness to my first episode of mob justice.. People threw wild hay-makers, kicks, duffel bags and violent abuse at this Serbian villain and in a matter of seconds he became an imprint on the pavement - i was amazed, shocked and a little shaken. As i walked away from the scene getting big, friendly, Serbian pats on the back and with women offering their daughters as a gesture of thanks and goodwill i thought to myself....only in Eastern Europe.

Moving on towards the Adriatic coast i decided to get the sleeper train down to Montenegro, where i planned to spend a few lazy weeks sipping cocktails and mingling with the locals. The train trip didn't go without incident and as i entered my sleeping carriage i realised that once again it was going to be a long night, in a foreign country, far from home.

I opened the door and came face to face with two elderly women who immediately started hurling a barrage of abuse and general hatred towards me...oh joy. As i was relegated by the evil pensioners to the top bunk of the carriage they immediate started laughing and cracking jokes in my direction...what the hell was my crime??? I took the constant abuse for a little over two hours when i decided, no more. As they chain smoked and casually hurled blame for a 100 years of communist oppression and tyranny at me i started replying with something along the lines of, "Yes my gypsy whore of a friend you should have been wiped out in the Serb-Croat war, but don't worry I'll probably smother you with my pillow a little later..." and as they continued to chain smoke I decided to stay awake the whole night and fill the carriage with as many farts as was humanly possible....

They finally departed at their stop in the early hours of the morning and as they shouted a final message to me i responded with the customary, "Rot in hell evil pirate hookers" and for the first time in 11 hours i closed my eyes and didn't fear being castrated.

Into Montenegro where i spent a blissful few days taking in the sights of a jaw dropping'ly beautiful coastline but always had the feeling that it wouldn't be this way for long as the commercial tourist scene has already began to line the beaches...

From there into everyone's favourite - Croatia. 10 days of rubbing shoulders with bus loads of Japanese tourists in Dubrovnik, drooling over yachts parked in Hvar, handing over bundles of cash for cocktails in Korcula, avoiding fat German nudists in Brac and just generally taking in a great destination that will, i have no doubt, be over-priced and over-visited within the next few years...if not already.

And to the last but almost certainly best spot on the trip so far...Sarajevo. I was about 12 when it all happened and can only remember snippets from news casts about something happening in a far away place, to a city i had never heard of. A siege and bitter war that lasted for 4 years. The city is still pocketed with 1000's of bullet holes and scared with the marks of bombshells - its almost unbelievable and to think this happened just a little over 10 years ago is too sobering for thought. The people are friendly and welcoming and only want to bring to light and explain to outsiders the hell they went through...get there if you ever get the chance.

So there we go...the end of the first leg and I'm ready to leave - I've had my fill of this side of Europe and all it has to offer, I've loved it but am ready for another continent and a change of stride. I've been scratching at that travel itch but its definitely still there - call it a rash that wont clear.

Onto India and 6 weeks without having a solid shit. Bring it.

Poland, Czech Republic, Bulgaria and Macedonia

Five weeks into it, and i now have a tan like a roadside beggar in the Sudan and an ever growing boep that would make the most robust of Blue Bull's supporters envious, the good life is taking its toll on the chisseld'ness of my features...bugger.

So...Poland, an interesting place. To summarise, we had planned to hit the Great Lakes where one could apparently go on a days canoeing where a bottle of Vodka is included with your canoe. However due to the lack of English spoken in the North of Poland and the bus system being more confusing than a contraceptive in a township, we didn't end up getting there.

We then ended up in a place called Gdansk on the Polish coast, a great little spot that, if it hadn't have rained non-stop would have been my favourite place so far - we were deeply unlucky in Poland, but as always seemed to be the case in that country, I came off slightly worse than the others....After growing my hair for the last 6 months trying desperately to resemble something of the wild, rough, chiseled features of that ever appealing ¨Camel Man¨ look i decided enough was enough and realised that i was kidding nobody. It was time to get it cut. I selected the hairdressers and as i entered, with my two friends sniggering behind me, i had a passing thought that this may not be the most sensible place to get it done...

She was red haired, fiery eyed, looked like the Devil's sister and spoke not a word of the Queen's good English. As i nervously explained, with my best polish accent, that I'd like a little off the sides and a slight trim on the top i caught a look in her eye that resembled excitement crossed with wicked pleasure - i wasn't going to get my way.

She started with the top and carelessly hacked away with no real intention at my patiently grown curls, cigarette hanging from her mouth she involved herself in full conversation with the other ladies in the salon. I think the topic was on different ways to boil cabbage, but i cant be sure. Once she had satisfactorily destroyed the top of my head with genuine contempt, she decided to go to town on the back and sides. Her weapon? a pair of clippers that looked like a petrol-engined weed strimmer - and had a similar effect. About an hour later and with both Will and Beau in fits of laughter, i left Cruella De Vil's lair looking like, well...shit. Please refer to the photos uploaded on Facebook for the proof.

From the North we took the sleeper train down to Krakow - it wasn't a pleasant journey but went without incident, which was lucky as we had heard some bad stories about that route. Krakow turned out to be a fantastic place, we had 4 nights there and every one of them, thanks to the two Aussies i was with, were lined with the blurred and sporadic memory that accompanies a good night out. The City, although packed with tourists was beautiful and still somehow quaint.

The highlight though and i know it may seem odd, if not wrong to say, was our visit to Auschwitz. The only way i can describe it is sobering, vast and truly harrowing in its industrial capacity to destroy human lives, not more than 60 years ago. Important to see.

Both the Aussies flew out of Krakow on the last night and left me to gather my dignity and name from the gutter of Krakow's nightclubs and move on to the Czech Republic.

I spent a week in Czech and enjoyed almost all of it. I stayed in a small student town called Olomouc that resembled and felt exactly like Grahamstown. I then moved onto Cesky Krumlov which was a real highlight - picturesque beauty surrounded by a slow moving river that allows and invites a laid back attitude. One of the days was spent floating down river on a raft, with a couple dozen beers, two pommies and 16km's of ever increasing drunkenness capped off with a final leg of rapids that defeated three drunk men and a flat raft. Happy days.

Prague, beautiful, but not worth the effort of the crowds and the prices.

I then flew to Bulgaria and embarked on four days of heaven and one of hell. The first day saw me take a three hour bus to Golden Sands, where i had booked a night in a hotel (the absent 'S' in that word making such a difference to a backpacker wanting a goodnight sleep...). It turned out to be Blackpool with a lot more heat, more red skin and probably an extra measure of tackiness thrown in. After a night of listening to screaming kids, swearing mothers, drunken brawls and the odd vomiting tourist i was ready to put a black mark through Bulgaria and move on.

As luck would have it i didn't and decided to move to Varna (the town next door) to a hostel called, "Gregory's". Que my 4 days where the fun police were not present... some say it's not always the destination that makes a place great but the people you meet there, this was the case here. Four days that saw spear fishing, of which i now hold the Hostel record (had to get that in there) cocktail drinking, sun lounging, and casual conversation that almost always ended with watching a new sun rise. A great place and some even better people.

As i sit here now i can breath a sigh of relief, having caught up with the present day on my blog (Mum hope you're happy now). I have spent two nights in Macedonia at a place called lake Ochrid - it took 12 hours on a bus that saw me sandwiched between two Os du Randt lookalikes that didn't seem to realise i was there (how I missed that old lady with the sweets...), but it was worth every armpit-chewing mile of the journey as lake Ochrid is a little pearl of a place, that I'm sorry i have to leave.

Stay well and happy travels...on the tube.

Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania

Its almost been 3 weeks and all very non-stop, five countries down and i am currently sitting in the Czech Republic after having said good bye to some of my friends who were on the road with me. I've come to the realisation that i am going to have to be far more careful with my money as is it seems to be going down quicker than mum's knickers on Father's Day. From here on out its me by my lonesome, and for some reason i cant get Celine Dion's epic love song, 'All by myself' out of my head...bring on dinner for one and kicking stones back to my hostel all alone...

I started off traveling with a mate, Will Nasson and together we've been trying to showcase the Australian and South African cultures to the Baltic and Polish people. For Will it seems to be all very easy and when telling folk that he's an "Austraaalian" he receives exclamations of surprise, respect even admiration, when i follow suit with, 'Hi I'm a South African" blank faces and grunts of disbelief, even disgust follow, one guy even spat at my feet! South Africa just doesn't seem have the draw and appeal of the Steve Urwin's and Crocodile Dundee's of this world...

We kicked off in Estonia, and mother of God the rumors were true... The women that line the streets, bars and clubs all resemble something from a cover of Vogue and for some reason they are ALL like that, we started to think they must root out any women that aren't physiologically perfect and hide them in some cordoned off area away from the public eye, clever chaps wish we knew how to do that. We spent 3 nights in Tallinn trying desperately to dodge the rain, and the ever present stag groups that mob the town, Tallinn is picturesque and charming, but still overshadowed by the women and their beauty - well done God.

From there we visited Parnu, a popular beach resort with Estonians, a description of our time spent here wouldn't do it justice and only the words, sun, sea, cocktails and Estonians in beachwear will suffice...

Riga, Latvia - an amazing city that i would have loved to have visited 4 - 5 years ago as it has sadly been connected by yet another plethora of budget airlines. It is now littered with tourists, stag groups and locals who resent foreigners and bask in ripping them off. Remind me to thank Stelios and his Easy Jet empire next time i see him. We left Latvia shortly after, wanting to get a taste of the slightly less visited Lithuania.

We decided to get off the beaten track and head to the coast of Lithuania to a place called Palanga. Having heard it was a good spot to practice our Lithuanian on young, unsuspecting local women it would also then give us the very rare opportunity to be able to don the ever shunned Banana Hammock (Marble Sack, Sausage Sling, Ouch Pouch, Miami Meat Tent, Speedo, etc etc) without the fear of being arrested or stoned. I mean when else would we get the chance...?? Conclusion great place, try the Veal.

Into Vilnius - Lithuania's, beautiful, stylish and friendly capital city. It has all the markings of Tallinn and Riga yet none of the horrible let downs. I loved it, we all loved it. Our team of two, grew to three as Beau, another Aussie mate, met up with us. We spent 4 great nights, taking in the sights, hitting the turps and charming the pants of the locals (or so we thought)

We decided to head into Poland by bus and try and get to the Great Maurisian Lakes (a task that on the map seemed like a cake walk but in reality was harder than Hugh Hefner on a 4 day Viagra binge). The overnight bus was pure joy...and here is where i tell you all I sat next to the tall, blond, lonely, Polish farm girl who wanted to learn English in return for naughty favours...alas this was not the case. I landed up next to her Grandmother, who had a face that could make Dulux's, 'Wall and All Enamel' crack after a fresh coat. She had a fabulously ugly appearance that I almost congratulated her on and would have were it not for the language barrier.

Anyway the night continued with the rather lovely old lady consistently feeding me with boiled sweets that tasted mildly of an Old Spice and Mentadent P fusion of flavour. At scheduled intervals she would slyly nudge me and pass me over another handful. I dare not refuse, but when she started to wake me on the hour, every hour for my allotted dose of the boiled delicacy i started to wonder if anyone would miss her should she not make it to Poland...

To break the monotony of a blog that is probably only still being read by my parents I'll leave it here and update you shortly on the adventures of Poland, my buzz cut hairstyle, and men who constantly look at you like you've just fondled their baby sister - Poland, what a place.