Diary of a busker 7: Back in Thailand

(Some names might be changed to protect peoplw`s identity, but stories are real as fuck.)

 

On my roads, I still find more and more, how important it is to do this solo trips, far from everyone you know. Far from people that like you and want to have influence on your life. This way, you can do bad things without being afraid, some of them will be dissapointed by your choices… Until you write it in a blog…

Back to thailand. I went by hitchhiking. Took me some time, first it started to rain, then people telling me I can`t do it (Bla blah). (I think that actually with many things in life it is like with hitchhiking. Some people first laugh at you because you stand there like a fool for an hour, but in the end it is me, who is travelling hundreds of kilometres free of charge.

First night I got to Thailand border, where a guy first offered me a ride on motorbike to the border(for a cheap price), and after we found out it is closed till morning, he also offered a sleepover on his floor. (free of charge)

I wanted to have a day off at Krabi, so I made it to Ao Loek. My host Kowit was supposed to live somewherre around. I asked a few people for directions, and funny enough, the 3rd person I asked was a singer from my hosts band. He took me to the place on his motorbike. Kowit is a cool guy, he works for Thai government, his house is full of music instruments, especially guitars.

It took me only a day to realise, that I start to run out of cash and I should not spend too much. Krabi is a real fucking paradise. The nature was very generous to this place. Many movies were shot around here, and the life is laid back. Good place to live hakuna matata, for very cheap price. In the evening we jammed with Wit and his friend Zakk from france, who turned out to be able to sing in a reggae way.

Anyway, 5 days left till my flight from Bangkok+ I think I still have a “girlfriend” there&money is low.. time to go.I started my hitchhiking Journey. First I wanted to go to Surat Thani, where a Chriss, a musician from Scotland was hospitilised after having a tough accident on motorbike. (We jammed and busked together in Pennang). But I didn`t make it there. I first hitched a girl, that drove me 1 hour of her regular track, then a policeman on a motorbike. One of the most friendly policemen I ever met, he hitched a bus to bangkok slightly after.

Back in Bkk. I don`t know, I think I have sort of a hate/love relationship with this city. Too many people trying to sell you shit too forcefully. Ladyboys offering sexual services in every nightlife spot. On the other hand, you would hardly find a place with more nightlife than bangkok, and also the prices are very cheap.

This time I slept in the smallest room ever. (160 baht)

First night we`ve been Drinking Lao Khao(cheapest local booze)all night with the guys from guesthouse.

and I passed out in front of the guest house.  I had almost no money, so we`ve been eating bread and fish the next morning. Next day I went out with the guys from inner circle… Adrian from poland and Gerhardt from Austria.

We were just aproaching random beutiful women in the street, taking their phone numbers and trying our luck. I had a few numbers/line/facebook contacts, but I was not really into putting any effort to convince girls to come to a date with me. I didn`t even have money for coffe at this point. I managed to meet my “girlfriend” from the last visit. She was pretty and all over me. It was a bit hard to communicate, because her english was not so good. Anyway, I first tried to take her to my hostel, but the receptionist told me no Thai people are allowed… Fuck… What can I do. I can`t take her to my place, she can`t take me to her place(her mom hates farrangs=white guys)… But it was pleasure to spend time with her anyway.

We went for a  walk to the park, she gave me a thai massage. I fell asleep, and it was already dark. Well, there won`t be a better opportunity here. I first started to rub her small titties, then put some fingers in, then I just fucked her on a bench. Sometimes a person or 2 passed by jogging, we stopped for a while, then we fucked again. She was screaming, but her voice is not very loud for a big park.

After finishing, we went separate ways. In the evening, I went out with Gerhardt, and found a girl that could solve my financial situation. She was living near the airport . Not as beautiful as the one before, but still ok, plus she was living near the airport. I fucked her the same night, and it was not only a payment for free accomodation, it was also a way of paying for a free ride to the airport(where she works) and a dinner. She told me, she is not into this thing called relationships….clever girl. Ok but before she gave me ride to the airport there was still one day to go, so I`ve met girlfriend, and went for a walk with her. It was lunch time, so finding a place to fuck in the city was limited to checking which toilets are not too crowded. We passed through many toilets, but none of them gave her safe enough feeling of privacy… Until we found some disabled people`s toilet in the fourth floor of some shopping center near Novotel.

We started fucking like wild animals, but the problem was, that I had to put my hand on her mouth, so she won`t make too much noise. She wanted to scream so much, but I was blocking it off with my hand. After e finished, I`ve seen a security guy sitting on the other side of the door, waiting till we come out….

Luckily it wasn`t a security guy… After finishing, we went back to the park, and repeated the process from yesterday, this time a real security guy stopped us, but didn`t see anything(public fucking in thailand is 5 years prison time). He told us to sit further… At this time my only wish was to get back to the Airport girl, because I didn`t even have money for the airport train. At this moment I felt a bit guilty, but still… Girls do the same, so I tried how it is like to be a cheap hooker for a day. From the airport girl to the Airport, everything went easy, I only had to spent 13 hours at the Airport, because my flight was at 23:55 I decided to practice guitar outside a bit…

Some strange guys in uniform were watching me. For an hour. Then they came, I played a song, and suddenly they became friends. I also played a song on the passport control, and that my friends is the end of this story.

If you like my stories, you can travel with me on my facebook page .

Diary of a busker 6: Back in the game in Malaysia

(Some names might be changed to protect peoplw`s identity, but stories are real as fuck.)

On my way to Malaysia, I had only 400 b left. The minibus ticket was 1200. I offered them 400 , with something like: “Take me wherever on the way for what I have”.
They took me all the way to Penang. (I recieved advice from a friend of mine, who is a street magician, that this place is busker friendly.)

So here I am.Georgetown Penang, Malaysia, no money, just my guitar, a matrace, a few spare strings… All I need. Let the game begin. Penang is an Island, where most things happen in George Town, place with people from China, India, Malaysia, very cosmopolitan.

Also Expatriates living long therm in Thailand like to go here for visa runs.
I spent first 4-5 days at couchsurfing hosts, which gave me the opportunity to minimise my costs of living, while making some money playing in the street.

I played aproximately 4 hours a day, with an average of 20 ringit per hour income.(not too much but, you don`t need much money here)
I also asked at bars if I can play there, which brought me a few extra money. (Mostly 50 ringit/2 hours, one bar even 100/2 hour gig.)

I met an event organiser Brian, he told me I can play in some event outside of the island.
The only problem was, I had to take a bus at 8 am in the morning… on Saturday. If you are a musician playing at bars till late morning hours…( You know, saturday morning is not your favourite time of the day.) But I don`t reject opportunities like this, so I made it to the bus, and slept both in the bus and in the couch in library, before my time came. But all that came from this moment was way beyond epic.

All the girls here were taking selfies with me, I had lunch with some ministry of culture representant, etc.. They even put me on some poster for tourism in Malaysia. I felt like a rock star for a day, best feeling in the world.

After this I came back to city, continued busking.. had some goood time, even living in hostel was cheap, I made more money then I spent, almost every day.

One day we went out with the guys from hostel and we`ve seen that one of them is so drunk, that he doesn`t realise, the woman he is going to makeout with is actually a ladyboy. We let him do it, while secretly laughing. When we told him, he was like “Guys, please don`t tell anyone”.
I told him: “Tomorrow google hashtag “Don`t tell anyone””

(Ladyboy is the only woman on the photo)
Epic moments…

In hostel I met some other musicians, sometimes we busked together, sometimes I busked alone. I also met Jin and George from Busker`s guide. Australian Buskers/ who record a videoblog about busking.

Funny enough, the event organiser Brian told me, that he wants to meet (we`ve met more times), and he took me on his motorbike to some abandonned place. Asked me: “What does this situation suggest to you?” I told: “Looks like some scene from a movie, where they want to kill somebody”
Well… He turned out to be gay, and this was his move(This was not the first gay person who tried to hit on me, actually it happens pretty often in this part of world. I evene recieved offer to sex for money with a drunk man in Bkk)… Ok, but lucky enough I had an excuse: just before leaving, last night in Penang, I played in reggae bar, where 2 women from Russia/Ukraine offered me to stay at their hotel room. (Just to sleep at their couch, even though one of them was a former pole dancer).

(Brian was still writing with me through whatsapp, that he wants to bite my leg etc…)
Living here as a musician was really easy. I met this girl from Tinder, she was a Malay Chinese… She was very friendly and helped me a couple of times. Once  she painted this during my gig.

Also she arranged a private birthday party for some rich CHinese dudes. I played 2 hours there, told a few stories, and they gave me 200 ringit. (1 ringit= 8 baht)

                

That plus money I made busking was All I needed to go back to thailand.

Story goes on in chapter 7

If you like my stories, you can travel with me on my facebook page .

Diary of a busker 5: Broke in Thailand

It all began with my friend Lubos asking me if I want to join him again, to help him with making a movie in Thailand.  We agreed, that I won`t put out any information about shooting the movie, plus  this blog is about a story of a street music, so that`s what this story will be about.  (Some names might be changed because of keeping people in secret)

Chiang Mai

Besides shooting, I didn`t have much time in Chiang Mai. I spent it with my guitar/sleeping/going out a bit in the night. I met Josh and Roald from the local Inner CIrcle. Chiang Mai at night is a funny place. All bars close at aproximately 1 am, and the city is full of drunk people, which have nowhere to go. Only places open after this time are those with the hookers. Once we went out with Josh and met this girls outside bar named Spicy. They`ve been all like come to our place for afterparty, took us with cars somewhere outside of city, and when we came to their place, well they changed their mind and told us they want to sleep…

I also met this guys playing guitar in the park… They gave me a ride home after we finished jamming.

Bangkok

From Chiang Mai we came to Bangkok… Again most of the time was spent on shooting interesting moments besides that…Examining the nightlife a bit… I also met the local inner circle guys, David from Izrael and Adrian from Poland.If there is one thing about Bangkok, then it is nightlife… In the day, the city is very hot, and the air poluted, only places with breathable air are in the rooftop bar level.

I met this girl in the street, she was lovely asian girl, very small. On my way through the city, I mentioned to Adrian, that I like her, and he aproached, and then I came to the scene and took her number. We met the other day, and she switched to girlfriend mode shortly after that moment. I had like really Low cash(As usual) at that time, so all I could afford is a coffe at McDonalds.
Anyway, the shooting was over, and my plans were to visit something else besides the Sin City. I had a former colleague Claus staying 2-3 months in Koh Phangan, which is an Island with the most famous beach party in the world. (Full Moon Party). Plus I was negotiating a meeting with Monica, a girl from Slovakia, who also travels around Asia at the moment.

I took the cheapest train from Bangkok (There are many options when it comes to travelling by train in Thailand. The same distance can be made for 1800 Baht with a princess appartment with air conditioning and 5 mermaids giving you a blowjob, and also for 280 baht on a broken chair from the times slightly after Vietnam war.
Experience taught me, that it will be hard to order the cheapest train as a white guy in Bangkok(Language issues+locals expect white guys to be rich), so I made a screenshot of the cheap coupé to show it to the lady at the desk.

Koh Phangan
I was broke as fuck, so the last money I had were spent on ferry to Koh Phangan, and to rent a motorbike for 5 days.

Monika paid a bungalow for 3 days and I was searching for some way to make money. First of all, I`ve heard, that playing in the street in THailand as a white guy can be a problem. (Risk of a few months in jail) So  I didn`t even try. I went to a few bars, and they all told me, that it is off season, and they don`t hire musicians at the moment. Fucking situation. I felt like being in prison. You can be imprisoned even in paradise….
The only thing I wanted to do… Make money with music… was hard to do at the moment… People told me I should go to jam sessions, and “wait till someone hires me” etc… The problem was, that they were thinking in different time horizont than me.

(I went to one jam session anyway)

Just to explain, Koh Phangan is a place where a lot of musicians come and live off playing in bars, but they live here months/years… I needed something which will give me money at the moment, waiting “till someone hires me” was really a luxury I couldn`t afford. Luckily Klaus had a friend Ritchie, fat American Guy, really good musician and also a good person.
I worked for him for a day, scrapping of some isolation from metal water tanks. (600 bahts a day). Plus he bought a knife my father gave me(400 bahts).
Funny enough I lost keys from my motorbike, so I had to pay to Shane. Shane was from Australia, running a bar, a bike rental and a hooker house with his wife. (Everybody runs a hooker house here, if their house is big enough).

Koh phangan has this laid back atmosphere. A lot of backpackers here, riding on motorbikes through the island. Then a lot of people who came here to live long therm. (From all over the world) This people have really good energy. Living between sun,coconuts&prostitutes, riding motorbikes everyday probably makes people happy.

But anyway after Monika left, I had no place to sleep, so I slept 2 nights in a chinese temple in the Jungle.  Thousands of frogs around, making a noise close to a Plane landing. But nothing happened except of a few wild dogs checking me out and a few mosquito bites.
At this point I knew… I have to run away very fucking quick, or I will die from hunger or from some disease in Thai prison If they cath me playing in the street.
I came to a bar called Outlaw salloon and offerd, that I will play for free and collect money from the customers.

That was a real life saver. I played a few songs, spoke with customers from ukraine, showed them some photos from my Ukraine trip, then an Israeli woman came to stage and told me, that she is gonna sing. I was like OK, which song… SHe was like: “Any”.
She sung really out of tune(even worse than me) so I was making signals to the audience, like “Oh fuck, I don`t know this woman…”
But then she took the hat and collected money for me, so again she made my busking more efficient.At this time i already had a ferry ticket to the mainland. I didn`t even manage to say goodbye to everybody, I took my crap and quickly took the boat to Surat Thani.
(I remember Klaus was pissed, and probably some other people as well…I brought some chaos to this peaceful place)

Story goes on in chapter 6

If you like my stories, you can travel with me on my facebook page .

Diary of a Busker 4: Travel notes on why we didn`t kill each other

OK, the last trip for now is over… No detialed story this time, just a short summary: Plans were to make money, loose some weight/get back the physique while on the road, have some fun and improve music and public performing skills.

Results: As usual some plans were fulfilled, some were changed by that creature in my head which doesn`t like planning.  In numbers: 20 days on road(+-), 4000 km driven, a few selfies using the stationary radar in Germany. (I hope they like the one with guitar best)

Not everything went as planned, from the 3 people (me on guitar+ backup vocals and main clown, a female singer Lenka and a percussionist Lukáš) on the road we finnished only in 2 while having constant fights about most details of the road(Lukáš decided to leave after he and lenka started to have some murder feelings, which were mutual). This brings me to the conclusion: road to freedom is a lonely road, and if you don`t find people who want to walk the same path as you, it`s always compromise. (I had also many conflicts with Lenka and many times we wanted to kill each other, but for some reason we sustained till the end without too much violence) Most of the money we made was spent on gasoline, food etc… But on the other hand…

After every road I see some improvement with the instrument, performing, meet interesting people and feel like having more social freedom (“giving less of a fuck, when you do some scary things in the public, like taking out your guitar and playing songs”). I managed to loose some weight, and do some small workouts every day, which is also hard to do while travelling cheap, especially when there is no shower around. Also while loosing hair and seeing people in my age having kids, families, steady careers and shit., it`s sometimes hard not to have this moments of reflexion… But I picked this road of excitement and uncertain future voluntarily, and I don`t want to change it yet, so no right for bitching 🙂 This life feels fucking amazing most of the time, and I believe I will figure the details on the go, sometimes you simply jump  in the water and learn to swim afterwards.

But back to the topic: How is this thing working? You come to a random city you don`t know(most of the time). You need to park close to the centre. You need to make some research… (Android apps like parkopedia, free parking and online forums come in handy) You find a good spot and you play, and you play, and you play…. Till you are exhausted and you start to hate your material, then you play a little bit more and go find a place to sleep, which in this case means a place you can park your car and not be spotted by the police, because western countries don`t support wild camping or sleeping in the car too much.

You have some cash from the playing, especially in coins, sometimes you can buy a dinner, sometimes just gasoline, sometimes you are lucky and you feel like you can spend all on some other things(like weed, alcohol or icecream), which will quickly backfire. But next morning you wake up, and you can repeat the process, no need to pay taxes, or ask somebody for invitation. You just go take your instrument and play. Put yoursef out there and accept whatever you get in return. Find your way to travel, make money and keep yourself out of jail.

DIary of a Busker 3: A battle of Amsterdam (explicit&politically incorrect, so don`t f#cking read it)

It`s more then a week from my last travel, and I still didn`t start to write the blog I promissed. Well now I did. The plan was to do a seahorse shaped circuit around Europe with some stops somewherre. Very precise description, right?

The standard I was used to till this point was to stand in the middle of some random square, saying hi to the microphone, and apologizing to any possible victims of my music making. But not this time.

This time I managed to bring a friend, which actually can sing, a friend named Laco. Our common interests were rock music, talking with drunk girls and asking people for cigarettes while being drunk.

My car was in terrible state, but my father had an accident on motorbike and had to stay in hospital for some time, so he decided to borrow me his. (Without any unneccesarry violence)

Car was not only method of transport, but also method of sleep, and other things. From the beginning, things went quite well, till we reached D1, probably worst fucking road in central europe, build of concret blocks somewherre during times of Adolf Hitler, famous for never ending traffic jams.

 

First stop on the list, Prague… We managed to play a few gigs accoustically in Vaclavske Namesti till we met Katya, a girl from Russia, which hanged out with us till the late evening. She was on her trip through europe.

Next day in Naplavka, where 2 guys joined us, first we met Chloch, randomly in the street, while waiting for Cheeko also from Czech republic. Guys did both great job, we even met some drunk German tourists, which all joined us and sang a few songs with us, while one of them, dressed as a little girl was going with the hat and collecting money.

Clearly nice times, but our goals were clear, google maps told us, we have to drive more than 8000 kilometres in 3 weeks, anyway…

Next stop was in Hrimezdice, abandoned mine near Prague, which you can remember from the previous stories. We did a jump to the water in here, and also an reduction diet for the things we brought in the car with us, which was too fucking much, and therefore we left some in this beautiful place as thrash. (In an ecofriendly way of course, don`t worry for our souls for we will go to hell for different reasons)

Visits to this place are always fun and legendary… this time we went to party in the village and we meta guy we call Babeta, what is an old comunist sooter/motorbike.

Babeta was a 45+- years old man dragging his scooter at aproximately 2am,  in drunk state, but still had enough focus and willpower to bring us to a local football team party. On our way he also took 3 plastic bottles filled looking like they are filled with petrol, which were actually filled with beer. He was very hospitable with the beer he had, that`s why he is one of maine heroes of our stories. People who buy us beer on the way always become heroes. (If you want us to make a song about you, you know what you have to do). Well some people at the party were suspicious as it was a village football team, where everybody knows everybody, but most of the people were friendly and the party was also a lot of fun sometimes.

Next stop, Cesky Krumlov, last town in Czech Republic so far. Once some Asian director made a fairytale in this city, and from that moment, this place is full of Asian tourists and therefore makes a lot of money on selling selfie sticks.

We spent one evening and one full day here, made enough money to get all the way to Bregenz at the lake Konstanz.  Here we played in a random place by the lake, which was quite calm, but sometimes some german +60 tourists passed by and gived us a few coins for playing. (I never knew that german grandmas love punk songs like Dig up her bones so much).

Anyways, we also met some people from the same town in Slovakia we are from (top left picture) and recieved a deal to play at a bar terrace (bottom down picture).

We also went to Dornbirn, where we got a bit drunk and to Uberlingen, where we met Anna from the  previous story.

We`ve been really glad for this offer, but the weather went wrong and so we had to play inside the pub.  The only problem was, that there was a DJ, which was not really glad that we play during is time of fame, and also audience consisting of smth. like 6 people.

We finished this gig in less then hour, recieved 60 percent of promissed money and went all the way to Northeim, Germany, where my coleague Till from the skischool I was working in the winter.

We stayed in his father`s house, so we had some shower and proper food after some time. We also played in Gottingen, which is a city 30 km from Northeim, and we earned like 40 euro during one hour, plus a cool guy gave us a bag with bannanas, chockolates and bought us beer. He was also a musician, and turned out he liked our version of Born to be Wild.

Anyway, next best thing we did was we decided to ask in local Irish pub, if we can play there. Which we did…We just had to fill some papers for GEMA, which is some sort of terrorist organisation from what I`ve heard….

Playing here was probably greatest success on our way, people were singing with us, and Till`s girlfriend collected money to a flower-jar. We made 118 euro during one evening, which was also our top gain.

We liked the place, the owner played cajon with us, and so we decided to play one more evening. That evening was not as succesfull but still brought us some money ego reinforcement. Some local girls were hitting on us, and local boys didn`t exactly like it, exactly how a good concert should be finnished.

Next destnation, Frankfurt. I Knew a very friendly girl named Anne, living in this city, also from the time I was an Instructor. She gave us advice for some places to play, from which we played only in the subway, where we made some decent money. In this city we also gained a new member to the crew, Lenka, a female singer with a degree in music. (the only official musician in the team)

We also did some gig in another Irish bar, O`Reileys, this time for some free food and beer.  Till this point everything is ok, only problems were, that it is almost impossible to find a parking place in the center, so we paid almost 40 euro altogether for parking during the day. Luckily Anne showed us some place to park for free, which became our base from that point. Anne also told us where we can go for some bridge jumping near the city, but weather was shit and therefore we left towards Netherlands.

First we arrived to Den Haag, where Jimmy, my friend also a ski instructor is living. He showed us some place where we can sleep. We had some good night weed from Den Haag and slept on an empty parking place, then the police kicked us out so we went to the beach to finish our sleep there.

After asking at the police, we recieved a response, that we can only play here with a permission, and that takes time aproximately to september. Fuck it, we decided to play without and act like we don`t know if they catch us.

Things didn`t go as well as we planned, people were giing us something, but not too much, and they were really foccused on their own things, which made us think, that we suck.

We also tried to play in a bar here, with possitive experiencce from before, also, the response of audience was quite cold. People were sobere and very critical. (I really like dutch people, but probably not as Audience)

Cool thing about Netherlands is, that you can see a man in his fourties getting drunk as fuck out of the pub, holding his guitar and cajon searching for a bicycle he drives home in a very funnyy way slightly after.

From here we went to Amsterdam which is the city that really defeated us. I recieved an advice we should have a sign “for weed” while we play, which will bring us more money.

  

It brought us more money, but it also brought us a lot of weed. By the end of the they we sometimes thought(we spent almost a week here), we thought that we can be dealers for a day. But just till we smoked that crap. Anyway, I personally love this city of freedom, and my mates probably share my feelings. 4 years ago I almost ended up in prison because of one trip here, but that by far didn`t damage my love for this place.

(I am actually not a weedhead, and besides a few accidental joints, I really have different hobbies. What I love about Amsterdam is the overall liberal atmosphere and the people which it brings to the city).

From other funfacts, our singer Lenka was hitted on by 2 drug dealers, which had really good game. The one who wanted to fuck her was whispering things to her ear, while his wingman was entertaining us.

Ok we also did one more Pub gig here, Irish pub again… This time we`ve been also drunk and stoned, so it did a bit damage to our performace. We`ve been really ashamed for what came out of our throats and fingers. I went away for a while, and during this period I lost Lenka and Laco somewherre. I went to search for them, they went to search for me.

We found each other in like 2 hours, which was enough  time for my belowed friends to spend almost all money on beer and magical cakes. Well… As Charlie Sheen is Saying… Alcohol is poison, but sometimes we have things inside which need to be killed.  Things like shame after a really bad perforance.

 

In amsterdam, we also played in many spots, best was probably Red Light DIstrict at night(From the financial point of view, and also from the weed per minute point of view)

One of the coolest moments was meeting this group of percusionists from California, (besides playing a rock ballad for an old hooker in the windowshop)

Most of the sleeping was done at a petrol station close to the Zeeberg P&R parking place. (photo on the right) This place was a free parking and a free sink for us. We also didn`t talk with the people at the petrol station just went inside a thousand times to fill bottles with water, clean teeth, shave, or connect to wifi. I am not sure what they thought about us, but it doesn`t matter now.

Another fun thing that was happening… We slept in the car, in sitting position, and sometimes I had dreams like the car is going down the hill and I have to pull the hand brake, which I pulled and everybody got scared.  Sometimes I even reparked the car in half sleep, just because I had a dream we are on a highway and I fell asleep while driving.

We got to a point, where my mates took the keys from me, so I can do no harm while sleeping.

Somewherre in between we went to Rotterdam, where 2  Slovak girls, Baška and Soňa accomodated us in their dormitory. We had really nice times at their place, including showers, sleeping in horizontal position, and many more things…. (sadly no photo)

We also met some Jesus guys in the street, played another unsuccesfull daytime gig in a cafe by the river. And went back to Amsterdam.

This time we focused on making money for petrol, because time passed really quickly in this part of world, and  as we fucked up many times, and had some obligations in Slovakia, we needed to slowly go back home.

We played in Amsterdam for like one or 2 more days and headed back home. While the plan was changed many times, we decided to go through Frankfurt again, because we knew good spot to make money, and also a free parking place, plus we didn`t do that bridge jump in a nearby place during our first visit. That place was called Mullheim and we camped there for like 2 days, slept outside, met some muslim non-terrorists (friendly guys with a water pipe) and gypsies from Serbia (aso friendly guys). (Actually there is one life lesson here. We forgot our cajon at a campfire place, and those gypsies came and told us, so dont judge too quickly kids).

During this 16 meter bridge jump in this place, I harmed both my rib and a Backbone, Laco also jumped, but harmed only his balls for a second.

Next stop was Nurenberg, city of Hitler`s final process. Here we spent one ore 2 days and night before we slept on some random lake nearby.

In Nurnberg,  Lenka & Laco got a bit drunk, and it was a lot of fun going with them . Especially Laco got his night of fame. Besides throwing his mobile phone to the river, and planning to run away, he also told some random taxi driver, that he is Peter Sagan (famous Slovak cyclist)

The last interesting person, besides the black guys hitting on Lenka was Elliah, a crazy-skilled guitar, but mostly CHapman Stick player, who gave us some good advice about the city and playing in general.

From here, we managed to drive to our last playing stop- Karlovy Vary. A czech town famous for the international movie festival being here. Which was accidentally happening during our arrival, in it`s 50tieth anniversary, cool right?

 

We spent like 2 days here, met some cool guys from czech republic, which are also musicians and play in the street from time to time, so we jammed for some time. Also we made enough money to get home and stole the show on one party with 200 promotional baloons, which we brought to the main pub and people slowly started to try if there is hellium inside of them and if it can make them sound like some gay pop star, or not.

And this is the end my friends, we`ve been really tired, so we left before taking selfie with Richard Gere, and went back home. Our petrol budget was so tight, that the last payment on a petrol station was 1,7 euro, right after the Slovak border.

And now some fucking facts:

Distance driven: 4500 KM

Where did we sleep? Mostly in the car in sitting position, but sometimes outside or at our friends(=my friends),  sometimes just on the grounnd.

How did we eat? Cheap food from supermarkets, usually really tight budget.

What about hygiene?

How did we make money?

How did we pay with them? 

Why do we do this?

I can`t speak for my coleagues, but for me it is this craving for adventure, for doing something I love, something that actually makes me feel present, alive outside of this zombie state you find yourself in going to your dayjob, and  finally the need to have audience, need to be heard.

In the end… If you want to read more stories, you can like my  facebook page.

Or if you want to follow my stories in the future, you can now also follow my private profie here.

Team members: Laco, Lenka

Ok, I know this thing gets fucking long but here is last thing I have to share. This guy we found in Frankfurt smelled as fuck, so we wrote on a paper “Zum Duschen” which means “For shower” and let that sign make him some cash, genious, right?

Denník potulného muzikanta 2: Cesta domov

Volám sa Juro. Som priemerný gitarista, podpriemerný spevák(čo inak hodnotím ako veľký pokrok oproti minulým rokom), ale som aj nadpriemerný klaun, trochu dobrodruh a sebezvaný stred vesmíru.  Možno si pamätáte môj blog z minulého roku, kde som šiel Stopom z Istambulu na Ukrajinu a peniaze na cestu som si zarábal hraním na ulici, tj. “buskingom”.

Blog okrem iného opisuje začiatok mojej “kariéry pouličného muzikanta”, a toto je jeho pokračovaním.

Príbeh začína v Tirolskom stredisku Ischgl, kde som cez zimu pracoval ako lyžiarský inštruktor. 3 týždne pred koncom sezóny sa mi podarilo nejakým spôsobom stratiť kreditku,tak, bez prístupu ku peniazom na mojom účte, rozhodol som sa zarobiť si hraním na ulici. Treba predsa vzskúšať nový repertoár a overiť si, do akej miery môže byť táto činnosť pre mňa zárobková.

Ale dosť bolo kecov… Nakreslil som mapu s plánom, najdetailnejším plánom, aký len jedinec s poruchou sústredenia dokáže zhotoviť za 20 minút.

Plán možno nebol taký detailný ako Ficová predvolebná kampaň, ale zahŕňal dôležité detajly ako: “Toto je pravdepodobne miesto, kde bohatí ľudia idú po lyžovačke na pivo” (A v konečnom dôsledku sa vlastne aj naplnil s podobnou percentuálnou úspešnosťou).

Prácu som ukončil piatok, a už v sobotu sa na vrcholovej stanici lanovky odohrával koncert finalistov nemeckej Superstar, tak som sa rozhodol, že skúsim šťastie najskôr tam. Čakal som do konca show, ale boli už 4 hodiny a na pódiu stále niekto vystupoval. Jebal to pes… začal som hrať počas prestávok medzi piesňami. Reakcie ľudí boli veľmi pozitívne, väčšina z nich sa ma nesnažila zabiť ani nič podobné, len jeden starý pán, čo vyzeral ako  Dietr Bohlen kopol pár krát sneh mojím smerom. Každopádne, zarobil som okolo 70 euro počas hodinového vystúpenia, čo je zatiaľ môj rekord. (Pre tento krát som bol oblečený ako lyžiar, aby som viac zapadal do prostredia).

Ďalší deň som dostal ponuku od kolegu Ollieho, zaviesť ho do Innsbrucku aj s jeho haraburdami za 80e, tak som ju nadšene prijal. Mali sme sa stretnúť o 8mej večer, ale Ollie sa opil, ako sa patrí na Brita a tak sme sa stretli až 8 30 ráno. Došli sme do Innsbrucku, a tak som sa odrazu rozhodol aj zahrať na hlavnom námestí. Čítal som si vopred nejaké fóra, a dopočul som sa, že hrať tu môže byť občas problématické. Ľudia boli v nedeľnej nálade bez energie, žiadné ponuky na sobáš ani iná silnejšia odozva od okolitých davov sa nekonala, tak som to zabalil po cca 40 minutách, zbalil svoje haraburdy, 10 euro čo som zarobil, jedno dal maďarskému bezďákovi, aby ma odfotil… a zdrhol som skôr, ako miestná polícia objaví môj talent.

Z Innsbrucku som šiel priamo do Švajčiarského mesta Kreuzlingen, ktoré leží na pobreží Bodamského jazera. Tu som sa stretol s Nurdinom,
kamarátom, ktorého som stretol v Prahe pred rokom.
(Keď sme sa stretli prvý krát vyhodili ma zroboty, lebo sme jamovali na gitarách na staromáku počas pracovnej doby).

V tomto bode je vám už asi jasné, že som sa držal plánu asi tak ako priemerný človek dodžu je dohodu uzavretú predchádzajúci večer v krčme.
V Kreuzlingene som ostal 3 dni, počas ktorých sme najskôr hrali v Nemeckom meste Konstanc (Kostnica), známom ako najdrahšie nemecké mesto, rodisko grófa Zeppelina, predsmrtné krematórium pre pár kňazov, ale hlavne kvôli soche Imperie, prostitútke držiacej v jednej ruke Nemeckého cisára, a pápeža v ruke druhej.

Socha bola dlhé roky tŕňom v oku impéria, ale nemôhli ju zbúrať, lebo mólo vlastní Švajčiarská železničná spoločnosť SBB.

Hrali sme v metre a na hlavnej ulici. Koncom dňa nás pozvali zahrať na terase jednej malej reštaurácie, kde nejaká neskorá tridsiatníčka (cca 45) oslavovala narodeniny. Dnes sme obaja zarobili +-50 euro,  čo bolo vpohode. Náš playlist pozostával hlavne z akustických verzií rockových piesní, prerobených na naše “hrubé” hlasy.  Reakcia ľudí bola väčšinou dobrá, čo ma privádza k záveru, že rock je možno mŕtvy v mainstreamových médiach, ale určite si nájde svojich priaznivcov. Toho dňa sme si ešte spravili obednú pauzu v parku a stretli Jurgena, bývalého rybára spievajúceho svoje príbehy z námorníckych čias.

Ďalší deň sme skúšali hrať na tých istých miestách, ale stretli sme muzikanta, ktorý mal licenciu a natrel polícii, že my ju nemáme. Úrad schopný udeliť nám túto licenciu bol už zavretý a tak sme sa rozhodli previesť loďou do nemeckého mesta

 Überlingen,  tiež na Bodamskom jazere. (Mali sme 100 % zľavu pre ľudí nerozumiacich nemecky hovoriacému sprievodcovi) Stretli sme tu cigánsku rodinu zo Slovenska, ktorá nám prenechala svoj spot.

Zarobili sme po cca 20 euro každý, ale stretli sme 2 nemky, ktoré nás pozvali zahrať ďalší deň na grilovačku.

Ponuku sme samozrejme prijali, a po rannom behaní sme sa vydali smerom ku miestu grilovačky s tým, že po ceste zahráme v nejakých mestách. Prvé bolo
Stein am Rhein, kde sme zarobili okolo 30 euro(dokopy) za cca 40 minút,

potom sme skúšali hrať na lokálnom markete v Shaffhausen, kde nás polícia zrušila po cca troch piesniach, cestou do Lautenbachu(barbeque)sme sa zastavili na dvoch miestách, jedno boli nejaké vodopády,

a druhé nejaká sopka s hradom na vrchu, turistické miestá bez možnosti hráť pre ľudí… áno, stráta času…

Na párty sme prišli okolo 6tej, stretli sme sa s Annou a ďalšími ľuďmi žijúcimi v nejakom komunitnom dome pre dobrovoľníkov, atď…

Bohužiaľ, musel som odísť už o 1ej ráno, pretože som mal stretnutie v Brne, (Ľubošom, s ktorým pracujeme na jednom, teda vlastne už druhom filme).

Prachy na benzín už boli zarobené, takže mission complete, ale príbeh ešte pokračuje.

Cesta bola ozaj hrozná, nemal som nemeckú mapu v GPS, a každú chvíľu som chytal mikrospánky. Chytil som hattrick fotiek zo stacionárnych radarov (moje auto je zrejme veľmi fotogenické) v Nemecku, Švajčiarsku aj Rakúsku, dokopy s nezaplatenou parkovacou pokutou vo  Švajčiarsku, (a 5timi zaplatenými pokutami za sezónu v Rakúsku)

mi možno niekde zariadia štatút nežiadúcej osoby…  Dorazil som totálne vyčerpaný na Nemeckú benzínku, pamätám si len časť konverzácie:

Me: “A hamburger with beef.” (Hovädzí hamburger)

Shopkeeper: “Was?”

Me: “Ein Hamburger mit moo moo”

Shopkeeper: “I speak english, I just didn`t hear you!”

Mám taký dojem, že obyčajné automaty na kondómy sú asi na nemecko too mainstream, preto tu majú niečo pre ľudí s každou úchylkou, 1000 ľudí 1000 chutí:

Nemal som dosť energie na to vyskúšať všetky možnosti tohto jedinečného zariadenia, ale predpokládam, že tam nájdete všetko od lietajúceho vibrátora po spievajúcu gumenú vagínu.

Celú cestu som bol v stave pol zombie, pol človek, bojoval som proti spánku občasným behaním na benzínkach a odpočívadlách.

Dostal som sa do Brna s oneskorením len nejakych 5 hodín, ale tak isto som prišiel na to, že dopravné zápchy vymysleli Ilumináti, aby sa ľudia navzájom pozabíjali. (Nikomu o tom nehovorte, lebo sa toho chytí AC24 alebo Zem a Vek)

Posledná zastávka bola v Morávke, kde môj kamarát Adam mal pripravený nejaký moravský alkohol na vyliečenie mojej duše.  Áno, aj keď si 50 km od domu, problémov nie je nikdy dosť,  a tak sa stalo, že mi nezastaviteľný ventilátor(Niečo ako Steven Seagal medzi ventilátormi) vybil autobatériu.

Ale dosť bolo kecov, ako iste viete, prvá vec ktorá Vás privitá na kysuciach je Eifelovka(tentokrát pribudol ešte most ku novej diaľnici) a tým by som tento príbeh rád uzavrel, už len pár múdrych slov na záver.

Ako pouličný muzikant si ako Švajčiarsko, si slobodný, ale len vďaka peniazom od ľudí ktorí pracujú a takto tvoria súčasť systému. Tvoja nezávislosť je teda závislá na systémovej závislosti iných ľudí. (dúfam, že som sa moc nezamotal).

Ak ťa zaujímajú moje príbehy,  sleduj moju fb stránku. 

Diary of a busker 2: Going home

Hi. My name is Juraj. I am an average guitarist, under average singer(which is a huge progress from the years before), I am also a clown by nature, adventurer and a self proclaimed center of the Universe. Maybe you  read my story from last year, when I went from Istanbul to Ukraine by hitchhiking, while making money playing music in the street (busking).

That blog besides other things describes the begin my “busking career”, and this is logically a sequel.

The story begins in Ischgl, where I was working as a ski instructor for the winter. 3 weeks before the end of my season, I managed to loose my credit card, and without access to my bank account, well… I decided to make money for petrol by busking.

Enough shit talk… I drove a map, the most detailed plan a man can make in 20 minutes…

It was maybe not as detailed as Hitler`s plan to attack Soviet Union, but it included important details, like: “Well, this is probably where the rich people go for a beer after skiing”, etc…

My work was done on friday, and on saturday, there was a “Deutchland sucht den Superstar” event on Idalp (top station of the lift), so I decided to start my busking there. I waited till the end of the show, but arround 4 pm, there was still somebody on the stage. No worries… I started to play during the brakes between the songs. The people`s reaction was very positive, most of them didn`t try to kill me. Just one old man looking like Dietr Bohlen tried to kick some snow my way. Anyway, I made arround 70 euro during one hour set, which is my record till this point. (I dressed up in my ski clothes for more more enviroment authenticity).

Next day, I got an offer from my Colleague ollie, to drive him to Insbruck for some money (80 e), so I gladly accepted the offer, and waited for him to come. We were supposed to meet 8pm, but Ollie got a bit drunk and I picked him up at 8 30 am, we went to Innsbruck, and I used this opportunity to also play in this wonderful city. I read some forums before, and people told me, that playing here can be sometimes problematic. People were also in a sunday relaxing mood, no marriage offers or any wild reactions from the crowd whatsoever, so I decided to stop after 40 minutes, packed the 10 euros I made and… get the fuck out before local police recognises my talent.

From here, I went straight to swiss town Kreuzlingen, lying on the shore of the Bodom lake. Here I met with Nurdin,
a friend of mine I met in Prague the last year.
(They kicked me out of the work on the day we met, because we`ve been jamming in the street during my shift).

At this point, you can clearly see, that I am sticking to my plan as much as an average drinker is sticking to an agreement made in a pub the night before.
I stood at his place for 3 days, during which we went to play first in German city Konstanz, famous for being the most expensive city in germany, being the birthplace of Graaf Zeppelin, being a burning place of some priests in the past
but most importantly for the rotating statue of Imperia, a prostitute holding in one hand the German emperor, and  the Pope in the other.

This statue was a thorn in the eye of the empire back in the times, but they couldn`t destroy it,because it is owned by the Swiss railway company SBB.

We played in the subway, and in the main street. In the end we got called to play in terrace of some restaurant, where some woman in her late 30ties (which means +-45) was celebrating her birthday. During the day we both made +-50 euro,  which was OK. Our playlist consisted mostly of accoustic versions of some old rock songs, accustomised to our low-tone voices.  The responce of people was mostly good, which me to the conclusion, that rock is maybe dead in the mainstream media,

but for sure not amongst the crowds. This day we also made a little lunch break in the park and  met Jurgen, a former fisherman singing his stories from the times
working on the ship.

The next day we tried to play in the same places we did the day before, but we met a busker, who was a rat and told police we have no licence, so we had to go. The office able to give us licence was already closed, so we took a ferry

 to a german
city Überlingen, also on the Bodom Lake. (We had 100% discount for people not understanding German language.) We met a gipsy family from slovakia, which gave us their spot to play, and so we used it.

We made around 20 euro that day, but we met 2 German girls, who invited us to play on their Barbeque next day.

Offer was accepted, and after a morning run, we went towards that place with a plan to play in a few towns on our way.
First one was Stein am Rhein, where we made arround 30 euro in a short 40 minutes of time,

then we tried to play on a local
market in Shaffhausen, where the police stopped us, afterr cca 3 songs, on our way to Lautenbach, where the BBQ was, we had 2 stops one were some waterfalls,

and another one a volcano with a castle on the top, tourist places with no possibility to play for people… yeah waste of time.

We arrived at the party slightly after 6 pm, met with Anna and the other people living in some sort of community house.

Sadly I had to leave at 1 am, because I had a meeting in Brno, czech republic, working on a movie with my friend Luboš.

Money for petrol were already made, so mission complet, but the story is not yet finished.

Road was really terrible, I didn`t have a german map in my GPS, plus I was almost sleeping all the time. I got a hattrick of stationary radar photos(my car is probably very photogenic) in Germany, Switzerland and Austria at the same time, altogether with the unpaid parking ticket from Switzerland

Will probably make me a persona non granta somewherre.  I arrived toatally exhausted to a German petrol station, I remember a piece of conversation:

Me: “A hamburger with beef.”

Shopkeeper: “Was?”

Me: “Ein Hamburger mit moo moo”

Shopkeeper: “I speak english, I just didn`t hear you!”

Ok, but this thing is really amusing about germany, I guess simple condom automats on a toilet are too mainstream, there is something for people with every taste:

I didn`t have energy to examine all the possibilities of this machine, but I guess you can find here everything from a flying dildo to a talking rubber vagina.

All the road I was in a half zombie state, I tried to fight sleep with going for a run on some stops on the way…

Somehow I made it to Brno, with “just 5 hours delay” … Also I found out, that the traffic jams were created by Illuminati to make people hate everyone, but don`t tell anyone, or tomorrow there will be a documentary about this, starring Alex Jones.

Last stop on my way home was a mountain cottage in Moravka, czech republic, where my friend Adam had some Moravian alcohol prepared to restore my inner peace.  Oh yes, and just 50 km from home, there is never enough problems, and so it happend, that my car batery died from a fan going all night long.

Ok, but this crap becomes way too long, so just some wise words at the end. As a busker you are like Switzerland, you are free, but only because of money from people who work for the system. Your independence is therefore dependent on the other`s people dependence.

If you want to know my other stories, you can follow me on facebook. 

Diary of a Busker 1: Istanbul to Ukraine by hitchhiking

Everything started in an abandoned mine, 60 km from Prague, where we were with Jacob (adventurer, traveler and unauthorized disability parking space owner),and  decided to take a short hitchhiking trip  from Istanbul to Ukraine.

Idea was catchy, cheap one way flying tickets (40 € one way) from Budapest to Istanbul  were quickly ours, as well as time off at work, which for Jacob ment working  overtime an a couple days ahead, and for me to get fired. (this is not the first nor the last work of which I was kicked out, so I will leave the explaining part blank).

The plan was also to earn money on the road with busking (playing music on the street). I practiced this part a week before the trip in the streets of Prague.

26.9.2014

We are already hitchhiking from Prague to Budapest, two hours without success. Jacob is cold, overworked and demotivated, and I remain alone.

A moment of hesitation, but the arguments were clear … Weather in Prague is really shit, tickets are bought, plus I am really disgusted of how many good  plans  died last year as soon as the initial enthusiasm dissapeared. In 3 hours, I am sitting beside my guitar in a bus to Budapest.

Arrival 22 30, a little walk around town, looking for a place where one can play the guitar, I meet a couple of gypsys with measuring stares, but no conflict happens. Finally, I  arrive to the center, some square with a fountain, I really do not remember the name. (For me as a Slovak citizen, Hungarian language is close to Elfish)

I asked security guys, whether I can play the guitar. The answer is yes, but not for money. Fuck it, I’ll tell you … It is a shitload of time till the morning, flight is at 1130, and I`m not going to pay for the hostel, I’m here for the reason of adventure, and I have a very limited budget.

I started playing the guitar and different musicians start to join in, gypsies first, then the “whites”. Gradually s group of +- 10 people is created, each of whom plays guitar or sings. We played differen (not only)rock songs, mostly in English language, sometimes even some Hungarian classic, lyrically quite similar to what Frodo had written on his ring.

This night was very luxurious, Hungarians are nice and lively, their women are also good looking, when they speak English, you can even understand what they say. There were 4 people who survived the night till the morning with me, after the fun part was over, they pointed me  to the airport.

Exhausted, I have flown to Istanbul, while sleeping in the plane, on the Asian airport Sabina Gocchen it was about an hour and a half to downtown, 20 minutes from there to the station Vezinziler where I had to meet with my Couchsurfing Host Taoufik, with whom I had equipped with a bed. It was raining and I had still about three hours time, I roamed the streets aimlessly around, until I met some college students who were interested in the guitar, and we sang a few songs.

In Istanbul I spent about four days, I played mainly in the area near Taksim Square, where is a street with the highest number of tourists and street musicians in the world. (probably)

Competition is really big, you need to grab a good spot, or join forces with someone who knows at least a little English.

Actor and singer Egemen knew. That’s my man I realized as soon as I saw the guitar John Lennon described passwords, and heard distorted rock singing voice.

My host, Taoufik (28) was from Morocco, cool guy who really takes it easy, and plans to waste time sometime soon traveling around East Asia. I was his first couchsurfing guest, as well as he was my first host.

Near Taksim square is the largest street with lots of shops with musical instruments, the most I’ve ever seen, I counted them over 30, but  I heard that there is much more. Carefully I cried over all the guitars that I couldn`t afford.

                                               (Check wall full original Gibson guitars)

I left Istanbul by bus, up to about 100 km distant city Saray, where I got in the evening. It was already quite late, I tried to communicate in English, but noone seemed to know. Without a possitive result, I tried to get accommodation for a reasonable price (read:”for free”).  An english teacher from Saray gymnasium saved me, after I told him that I am probably going to sleep somewhere in the park on a bench. He suggested I slep at his place.

(We watched together Turkish idol, listened to the Turkish band Pentagram, his wife made tea, we discussed mainly about rock music and our favorite bands)

The next day he took me to the  school, where I told stories from my travels on an English lesson, and of course, played the guitar.

I felt a little like a rock star, kids were doing selfies with me, girls from the 4th gradeprepared my lunch and I was additionally asked to facebook friendship plenty of Turkish girls with an average age of around 12 years.

Hitchhiking through Turkey was very fast, after 5 minutes, I hitched a bus, that drove me free me to a place, where a debate between Turkish drivers happened, an another driver, which drove the next bus to the city Kirkraeli took me also for free.

Here I had a little rest, for about 4 hours in a cool local Karaoke bar, where I originally planned to connect to the wifi, but since the owner, along with his brother occasionally go to Burgas to have some fun,  they decide they go all the way and take me as a guest. Cool guys.

On the border with Bulgaria to the customs, officer liked the guitar so much that he didn`t really want to control our other stuff. Strum a few chords and let us. No bribe, no bullshit, we passed through the EU border.

We arrived to Bourgas in the evening, we had a dinner, and spent some time in Neptun bar at the beach, but when the brothers  left, I stayed and talked a bit with the local cover band, and went looking for a place to sleep.

A Pier (quite nice) served very well. Except early morning tide I was afraid of potential theft, so I hid a little. Fishermen woke me pretty early. I talked with one and went north.

I walked  about 10 km along the coast, through the communist salt factory,  met two guitar-grandpas, and I got to the hichhiking point.

It was quite complicated to take a hitch, time between tracks was quite long, so I only got in the evening to Varna, where I slept on the beach, at the now depopulated resort Golden Sands. Morning hygiene in the pool, the water was still quite warm, security did not show any visible interest of kicking my ass out of this place.

Story goes on, and from Varna  I got Constanta, Romania, the most interesting driver on my way was a man, who wrote a book about how he hitchhiked for 100,000 km.

I planned to pass whole Romania in one day, so I didn`t even change money.

It did not happen. In the evening, I found myself in Galati, which is the last large town before the border of Moldova. I therefore changed 5 euros to Romanian money, and went to a pub with rock music, and a lower price range. It was a wise decision, because I found a host, Cyprian, who offered me a bed, as well as  some people, who song songs with me till 4 am.

One Romanian girl even offer me sex if it’ll play Babe I`m gonna leave you by Led Zeppelin. It did not happen, but later in the night, I found a Romanian bill in my underwear, so at least some earnings.

Ciprian works manually, but knows surprisingly good English. He likes rock music and sings quite good. Also he has a habit of saying phrases such as what  the fuck or shut up very loud, in a deep voice, similarly to the Duke Nukem overvoice. Really a cool guy.

When we arrived to the flat, Ciprian was a bit drunk, reheating my dinner and went to his chamber, where suddenly porn sounds started to come out. I told myself that I will give him some privacy time, but after about 20 minutes, I heard a loud voice: Grab your dick and watch some porn!

Well so while watching the porn together, my friend didn`t feel a strong need for privacy. Not that I have anything against lesbians porn,(it’s really my favorite genre) but I was very tired, so I decided to lie in the bed and try to count lesbian sheep before I fall asleep.

IN the morning, his mom came to visit, I tried to explain my journye, to what Ciprian said: “Do not waste time, my mom will never understand this life of yours”.

Cyprian is very specific nature, little loafer, a bit of an amateur philosopher, a bit of a showman, certainly one of the most interesting people I’ve met along the way.

While his mother does not understand excesses, such as my life, but in the morning she went somewhere by taxi and took me with her. The taxi driver pointed me towards Moldova. I hitched a border-guard so the borders between Moldova and Romania were no problem. Following border with Ukraine was a bit harder.

However, when they realized that I am really going to Ukraine without side purposes and there are not any weapons or narcotics in my guitar case, they had to let me go.

At the border, there was a soldier calledy Yuri, who among other things has persuaded a truck driver to give me a lift to Odessa.

The driver was quite similar to the last James Bond. He taught me along the way probably all the necessary swearing words in Russian language in conjunction with the word Putin. Blyať, job tvaju mať, putin chujlo, pizdets etc…

Along the way, we  went through Transnistria, a non-existent country, which is only recognizes by Russia. You know you are in Transnistria (sometimes called the Little Moldova), when there are suddenly soldiers on the road, who don;t want anything in Particular, except of some bribes every now and then.

In the public transport bus at the edge of Odessa, I met two drunk soldiers who wanted to play the guitar, so we are on the road in a very uncomfortably jumping bus, while playing. We recieved some applause, which made me quite pleased especially because the applauding ladies are a high quality export article.

In Odessa I lived among the CouchSurfing hosts, most of which were artistic kind, students of sculpting etc.. The apartment looked a little bit like a squat, but it was probably by will. Most of  the people played on a musical instrument, travelled, or did some other interesting activities.

In the city I spent about three days, I really liked it there. Friendly people, beautiful women, many musicians, cheap goods and services.

In the surroundings of Kiev, where I arrived in the evening, there was only one thing on my mind. Crap. I could endure it no longer, I ran into the first building with a sign “Lombard”.  I tried to explain my problem in English, then in Slovak. The pressure was high so I used Russian Translator, and a sentece came out:”Ja chaču srač”.

(Which means I want to shit)

After the initial laughter, the officer explained, they have a strict regime, cameras, and sent me to a nearby forest.

After making the necessary, I  went to a store to buy something for dinner. In a small supermarket I met Vadim, 50 year old man from Sevastopol, Crimea, who wanted me to play guitar, for which he bought me a bag of about 3 large sausages. He took my  telephone contact and during the trip called me about 3 times.

In Kiev I stayed at a flat of Olexander, a photographer and journalist. He was very friendly, I spent a couple of days in his house. We went to some party, where he who took me on a visit to Pablo’s, activists and journalists, an interview with whom you can find in our Slovak economic newspaper, Hospodarske Noviny.

Kiev is a bit expensive compared to Odessa, and people are a bit more standofish, as it is always in the bigger ciries, on the other hand, women here are absolutely top class. I didn`t honestly spend enough time roaming the streets, except the last day with Olexander, so I can`t say more without using google.

In a bus from Kiev to the next hitchhiking checkpoint, I met  the Ukrainian army. The guitar was helpful again, it made one soldier give me 100 Grivna, which is aproximately 7 euros …

 

Another checkpoint was Zorya village near the city of Rivne.  I spent 2 nights here in the family of Olexander, a writer suffering from haemophilia, which is friends with Pablo.

He was also very friendly and helpful as well as his family. I spent a lot of time in the woods, where I practiced new songs. (Playing the same shit over and over gets really annoying) After two nights, his brother arranged a truck ride to Lviv for me.

In addition to discovering hot dog with mayonnaise, dill and onion, I found that once again I have nowherre to sleep. It seemed that I will just take next train somewhere outside the city, because I had not enough money for the hostel, and it was raining. Again, the guitar helped and some girls just persuaded me to play, so I did, and again, onother musicians appeard amongst the group. My voice was really shouted out at the moment, so luckily, there was one guy singing really good, especially in Ukrainian.  (I only remember some rockabily song about chernobyl.)

In the morning , local girl Anastacia brought us to a restaurant with a very interesting theme. If you remember movies where the door is always closed, until a small window opens, and then they et you in, so there was something similar… The man in the window said “Glory to Ukraine”, and you should say “Glory to heroes”.

(Note:I heard, thatt the place is  popular amongst tourists.)

In the morning I discovered that the train to Uzhhorod, where I was going, costs about 12 Gřivna, which is about 70 cents, so I took it, ride through the Carpathian Mountains with a stopover in Mukachevo and I found myself on Slovak border.

I arrived at night, the only pub open till the morning was a karaoke bar called Polo, which suited my purposes very well. There was quite a lot  people singing patriotic songs in Ukrainian language, even the army guys, as well as people who fought in the conflict in Lugansk, etc..

One even told me that he already killed some separatists in the east. Another party till the morning night …

After Karaoke walk to the border, where I quickly realised, that you can cross the border only inside a motor vehicle. I finally fulfilled my corruption dream, and the last 27 Gřivna (less than 2 euros) symbolically I gave to the guard to arrange transport to the other side.

So it was, in Slovakia I could not resist, and had two hours of a nap at the bus stop.

In the morning, a man came to me, a local Grandpa, that offers me coffee and wants to satisfy his curiosity. I drank coffee, ate 2 rolls and heard his version of oppinions about this world.  When suddenly, some elderly lady went around , which he began somewhat mockingly shouting at. Then explained to me that this is a single mother, which had probably somehow justify his behavior. (In other words typical judgmental behaviour in small villages of Slovakia)

I hitched some gypsy, which was trying to tell me some crap about their religion of apostoles, and that he helps me, because jesus wants him to. I tried to explain him, that we atheist don`t eat babies, and that we also help each other, but it was very hard, and I was really disgusted from the crap that falls out of my mouth, so I stopped. I also hitched official driver of Slovak group Pentagramcek playing comedic pop about good satan helping little children. In Kosice,  after a heavy rain and even harder hitchhiking situation  (Plus unbeatable desire to be on Friday night in our village pub), I decided to give up the hitchhiking, and went by train to the village where my momma is living, and of course my pub is waiting for me.

Trip facts and sidenotes: Altogether, I went around 2000 km by hitchhiking, the trip lasted 20 days, during which I spent only about 80 euro. I did not drink a drop of alcohol, but in return I have developed a little bit of nicotine addiction. If you watch news(even if it not very valuable source of information), Ukraine is currently going through difficult times. Having gas is optional, as well as having hot water. Anyway, people are  very friendly, even when they do not have, they still give.

Emotions are very strong, due to everything that is happening. People like their country, sing the songs that remind them of their independence from the Soviet Union. Putin here has a reputation of modern Hitler, wherever you come, people will be happy to sing the song “Chujlo Putin” (Putin is a dick)

And it would probably be it. I’ve wasted several time writing the blog, as well as translating it, so I hope reading it will somehow entertain or inspire you. I do not have much of will to read it again for corrections, so I apologize for any errors. I am a selfecentered arrogant bastard, which explains why  my face covers most of the total photos area. If you are interested in trips like this, or joining forces for busking on the street, feel free to contact me. Maybe we will arrange another legendary trip, or form a street band that will dominate some tourist are. Life is way too short, not to make stupid spontanious decisions.

www.facebook.com/storyofcaptaingeorge

http://vk.ceorgeom/captaingeorge

Istanbul > Ukraina stopom – Cestopis punkovým spôsobom

Všetko to začalo v Hřímeždickom lome, 60 km od Prahy, keď sme sa s Kubom(dobrodruhom, cestovateľom a neoprávneným vlastníkom invalídneho parkovacieho miesta),  rozhodli podniknúť krátky výlet stopom z Istanbulu na Ukrainu.

Nápad to bol chytľavý, lacné letenky(cca 40 € jedným smerom) Budapešť-Istanbul sme zohnali pomerne rýchlo, rovnako aj voľno v robote, ktoré si Kuba zariadil nadčasmi a ja vyhadzovom. (nie je to prvá ani posledná práca z ktorej ma vyhodili, tak to tu moc nejdem rozoberať).

Plán bol zároveň zarábať prachy po cestebuskingom, tj hraním hudby na ulici, čo som si bol  ešte týždeň pred cestou oskúšať ešte v Prahe, kde sa mi v spolupráci s rôznými pouličnými muzikantami.

26.9.2014

Už stopujeme z Prahy do Budapešti, 2 hodiny bez úspechu. Kuba je nachladnutý, prepracovaný a demotivovaný, vďaka čomu ostávam sám.

Chvíľka váhania, ale argumenty boli jasné… Počasie v prahe stojí fakt za hovno, letenky sú kúpené, plus už ma ide ujebať z toho, koľko svetoborných plánov som nechal za posledný rok plávať hneď, ako upadlo úvodné nadšenie. Ide sa, ja a gitara sedíme v buse do Budapešti.

Príjazd 22 30, trocha sa prechádzam po meste, hľadám miesto, kde by sa dalo hrať na gitare, stretám pár rómskych spoluobčanov, ktorí si ma premeriavajú pohľadom, ku žiadnému konfliktu ale nedojde, nakoniec dorazím do centra, na nejaké námestie s fontánou, na názov si fakt nespomínam. (nie že by sa tie názvy v elfčine dali zapamätať)

Pýtam sa sekuriťákov, či sa tu môže hrať na gitare. Odpoveď znie: áno, ale nie za prachy. Jebal pes, poviem si… dorána času dosť, letím 11 30, hostel platiť nebudem, idem predsa za dobrodružstvom, a rozpočet mám značne obmedzený.

Hrám na gitare a postupne sa ku mne pridávajú rôzní muzikanti, najskôr cigáni, potom aj necigáni. Postupne vznikne partia cca 10 ľudí, z ktorých každý hrá na gitaru alebo spieva. Do rána drtíme rôzné rockové odrhovačky v angličtine, občas padne aj nejaká maďarská klasika, textovo dosť podobné tomu, čo mal frodo napísané na svojom prsteni.

Táto noc bola veľmi luxúsna, maďarky sú pekné a temperamentné, keď hovoria po anglicky, tak sa im aj dá rozumieť. Do rána so mnou vydržali cca 4ia ľudia, ktorí mi ukázali ako sa dostať na letisko.

Značne dojebaný od únavy som už priletel do Istanbulu, let som prespal, z ázijského letiska Sabina Gocchen to bolo cca hodinu a pol do centra, odtiaľ 20 minút na stanicu Vezinziler, kde som sa mal stretnúť s mojím Couchsurfingovým hostom Taufikom, u ktorého som mal vybavený nocľah. Pršalo a mal som cca ešte 3 hodiny čas, bezúčelne som sa flákal po okolí, stretol som nejakých vysokoškolských študentov, ktorí sa zaujímali o gitaru, tak sme si zaspievali pár odrhovačiek.

Musím uznať, že mi dosť zvýšili sebavedomie, lebo intonovali o dosť horšie ako ja, čo už je samo o sebe vysoko nastavená laťka.

V istanbule som strávil cca 4 dni, hral som hlavne v oblasti blízko Taksimského námestia, kde je ulica  s najväčším množstvom turistov a pouličných muzikantov na svete. (pravdepodobne)

Konkurencia je fakt vysoká, treba si chytiť dobré miesto, prípadne spojiť sily s niekým, kto vie aspoň trocha po anglicky.

Herec a spevák Egemen vedel. Že je to môj človek mi došlo hneď, ako som videl gitaru popísanú heslami Johna Lennona, a počul spev skresleným rockovým hlasom.

Môj host, Taoufik (28) bol z Maroka, v pohode týpek, ktorý berie život mierne na ľahkú váhu, a má v pláne márniť čas niekedy v blízkej dobe cestovaním po východnej ázii. Bol som jeho prvým couchsurfingovým hostom, rovnako ako aj on mojim prvým hostiteľom.

V blízkosti Taksimského námestia je aj ulica s najväčším množstvom obchodov s hudobninami akú som kedy videl, napočítal som ich vyše 30, ale ževraj je ich omnoho viac. Dôkladne som si poplakal nad všetkými gitarami ktoré si nemôžem kúpiť .

(Všimnite si stenu plnú originál gibson gitár)

Istanbul som opustil busom do cca 100 km vzdialeného mesta Saray, kde som sa dostal večer. Bolo už pomerne neskoro, stop nepripadal v úvahu, rovnako ani konverzácia v anglickom jazyku, ktorý tu akosi nikto neovláda. Márne som sa snažil získať ubytovanie za rozumnú cenu(rozumej zadarmo). Zachránil ma až učiteľ anglického jazyka, ktorý po tom, ako som mu povedal, že sa chystám pravdepodobne spať niekde v parku na lavičke navrhol, aby som šiel ku ním domov.

(Pozerali sme spolu Turkish idol, počúvali tureckú kapelu Pentagram, Žena navarila čaj, my sme diskutovali hlavne o rockovej muzike a našich obľúbených kapelách)

Ďalší deň ma zavliekol do školy, kde som na hodine Anglického jazyka hovoril príbehy z cestovania, a samozrejme zahral na gitare.

Cítil som sa tu trocha ako rocková hviezda, decká si so mnou robili selfie, maturantky mi pripravili obed a bol som navyše požiadaný o facebook priateľstvo veľkým množstvom tureckých dievčat s vekovým priemerom cca 12 rokov.

Stop cez turecko bol veľmi rýchly, zastavil mi asi po 5 minútach autobus, ktorý ma zadarmo odviezol na miesto odkiaľ ma po diskusii vodičov v Turečtine odviezol ďalší autobus až do mesta Kirkraeli.

Tu som sa zdržal fakt krátko, cca 4 hodiny v miestnom Karaoke bare, kde som pôvodne plánoval pripojiť sa na wifi, ale keďže majiteľ spolu s bratom občas chodia do Burgasu praktikovať neveru, rozhodli sa, že si spravia výlet do Bulharska a vezmú ma so sebou.

Na hranici s Bulharskom sa colníkovi na toľko páčila gitara, že sa mu ani moc nechcelo kontrolovať čo vezieme. Brnkol pár akordov a pustil nás. Bez úplatku, bez kecov, vstúpili sme do EÚ.

V Burgase sme boli opäť večer, posedeli sme v bare Neptun na pobreží, no a keď bratia majiteľovci odišli, ostal som kecať s miestnou zábavovou kapelou, a vydal sa hľadať miesto na spanie.

Mólo (celkom pekné) poslúžilo, okrem ranného príbehu som sa bál potencionálnej krádeže, tak som sa trocha schoval. Prebudili ma rybári, s jedným som trocha pokecal a vydal sa na sever.

Prešiel som cca 10 km po pobreží, cez komunistickú soľnú fabriku, stretol dvoch gitarových dedov, až som sa dostal ku stopovaciemu miestu.

Stop bol celkom komplikovaný, časy medzi jednotlivými stopmi boli pomerne dlhé, a tak som sa do večera dostal len do Varny, kde som spal na pláži, v teraz už vyľudnenom rezorte Zlaté Piesky. Ranná hygiena v bazéne, voda bola ešte celkom teplá, sbs nejavila o moje vyhostenie žiaden viditeľný záujem.

Z Varny som dostopoval do Rumunskej Konstancy, najzaujímavejší vodič bol asi človek, čo napísal knihu o tom, ako prešiel 100 000 km stopom.

Rumunsko som mal v pláne prejsť celé za deň, takže som si ani nemenil peniaze…

Nestalo sa. Večer sa ocitám v meste Galati, ktoré je posledným väčším mestom pred Moldavskou hranicou. Rozmenil som si teda 5 euro na rumunské peniaze, a vydal sa do jednej rockovej krčmy nižšej cenovej kategórie. Bolo to múdre rozhodnutie, lebo som našiel hostiteľa Cypriána, ktorý mi ponukol nocľah, ako aj ľudí, ktorí so mnou do rána spievali rôzné piesne.

Jedna rumunská deva mi dokonca ponukla sex, ak jej zahrám Babe I`m gonna leave you od Led Zeppelin. Nestalo sa, ale neskôr večer som v spodnom prádle našiel Rumunskú bankovku, tak aspoň nejaký zárobok.

Cyprián je 34 ročný Rumun, pracuje manuálne, ale vie prekvapivo dobre po anglicky. Má rád rockovú muziku a celkom obstojne spieva. Zároveň má vo zvyku hovoriť vety typu What The Fuck alebo Shut Up veľmi nahlas, hlbokým hlasom, alá komentátor zo starej PC hry Duke Nukem.

Keď sme došli na byt, bol Cyprián už značne podgurážený, prihrial mi večeru a odišiel do svojej komntaty, odkiaľ čo nevidieť začali vychádzať zvuky porna. Povedal som si, že mu nechám nejaký čas súkromia, ale po cca 20 minutách som započul mohutným hlasom: Grab your dick and watch some porn ! (Presne takým hlasom, že človek aj počúvne).

Tak sme chvíľu čumeli na lezbické porno, pričom Cyprián nemal moc problém s potrebou na súkromie…

Nie že by som mal niečo proti lezbickému pornu, je to môj obľúbený žáner, ale bol som veľmo unavený, a tak som sa radšej rozhodol počitať lezbické ovečky, kým nezaspím, čo prišlo veľmi rýchlo.

Ráno prišla cypriána navštíviť jeho mama, ktorej som sa snažil vysvetliť svoju cestu, na čo ma odsekol Cyprián slovami: “Nemrhaj časom, moja mama nikdy nepochopí tvoj život”.

Cyprián je veľmi špecifická nátura, trocha povaľač, trocha amatérsky filozof, trocha showman, určite jeden z najzaujímavejších ľudí, čo som stretol po ceste.

Jeho mama síce nechápe podobné excesy, ako je napríklad môj život, ale išla ráno niekam taxíkom, tak ma zobrala so sebou, taxikár mi ukázal kade sa dostanem do Moldavska. Stopol som pohraničného policajta, takže  Rumunsko Moldavské hranice boli no problem. V zápätí následovali hranice Ukrainské, ktoré už boli o čosi zložitejšie.

Keď im však došlo, že naozaj idem na Ukrainu bez postranných účelov a neprevážam žiadné zbrane ani narkotiká, museli ma pustiť.

Colnicu ešte strážil vojak Yuri, ktorý mi okrem iného vybavil odvoz kamiónom až do Odessy.

Kamiónista dosť podobný poslednému protagonistovi v úlohe Jamesa Bonda ma po ceste naučil pravdepodobne všetky potrebné nadávky v Ruskom jazyku v spojení so slovom Putin. Toto si už poriadne nepamätám, ale skúste foneticky čítať, tak ako je to napísané:

Blyať, job tvaju mať, putin chujlo, pizdets…

Cestou sme ešte prechádzali cez Transnistriu, neexistujúcu krajinu, ktorej suverenitu uznáva len Rusko. Že ste v Transistrii(občas zvanej aj Malé Moldavsko), zistíte podľa toho, že sa z ničoho nič na ceste objavia vojáci, ktorí od vás okrem príležitostných úplatkov prakticky ani nič špecifické nepožadujú.

Už v MHD autobuse na kraji odessy som stretol dvoch opitých vojakov, ktorí si chceli zahrať na gitare, tak sme sa po ceste vo veľmi nepohodlne nadskakujúcom autobuse striedali pri hraní. Zožal som aj nejaký potlesk, čo ma celkom potešilo zvlášť vďaka tomu, že tlieskali nejaké ukrainské devy, ktoré sú veľmi kvalitný vývozný artikel.

V Odesse som býval cez couchsurfing u hostiteľov, z ktorých väčšina bola umeleckého razenia. Študenti sochariny a pod. Byt vyzeral mierne ako squat, ale bolo to tak zrejme zámerne. Každý človek v byte pravdepodobne hral na nejaký hudobný nástroj, cestoval, alebo robil nejakú inú zaujímavú činnosť.

V meste som strávil cca 3 dni, veľmi sa mi tam páčilo. Priateľskí ľudia, pekné ženy,veľa mutikantov lacný tovar aj služby.

Na kraji kyjeva som sa ocitol vo večerných hodinách, pričom ma trápila jediná vec. Sračka. Nedalo sa to už vydržať, vtrhol som do prvej budovy s nádpisom Lombard. A snažil sa vysvetliť človeku za prepážkou, čo je môj problém. Angličtina nezaberala, tak som v panike zapol Russian Translator, a vypadlo zo mňa niečo v štýle: “Ja chaču srač”.

Po úvodnom smiechu mi vysvetlil, že tam majú prísny režim, kamery, a poslal ma do blízkeho lesa.

Po vykonaní nevyhnutného, som už išiel do obchodu, kúpiť si niečo na večeru. V malom supermarkete som stretol Vadima, 50tníka zo Sevastopoľu, ktorý chcel, aby som mu zahral na gitare, za čo mi kúpil tašku s cca 3mi veľkými klobásami. Zobral si na mňa aj telefonický kontakt a počas cesty mi približne 3 krát zavolal.

V Kyjeve som býval u fotografa Olexandera, ktorý ma zobral aj na návštevu ku Pablovi, aktivistovi a novinárovi, rozhovor s ktorým môžete nájsť aj v našich Hospodárskych Novinách.

Kyjev je o čosi drahší v porovnaní s Odessou, a ľudia si udržujú väčší odstup, ako ostatne v každom väčšom meste, inak ženy sú tu úplne top class, mesto nemám moc pobehané, tak viac toho povedať neviem.

V buse z Kyjeva na ďalší stopovací checkpoint som sa stretol s Ukrainskou armádou. Opäť pomôhla gitara, ktorá mi zarobila 100 grvní, čo je cca 7 eur…

 

Ďalší checkpoint bola dedina Zorya pri meste Rivne. Tu som strávil 2 noci v rodine Olexandra, spisovateľa trpiacého hemofíliou, ktorý sa kamarátil s Pablom.

Čas som trávil hlavne v lese, kde som sa učil nové piesne. Po dvoch nociach mi jeho brat vybavil odvoz kamiónom do Ľvova.

V Ľvove som okrem objavenia hotdogu s majonézou kôprom a cibuľou zistil, že opäť nemám kde spať. Vyzeralo to, že sa poberiem najbližším vlakom niekam mimo mesto, na hostel už peniaze neboli. Opäť však zaúradovala gitara a tak som s miestnými ľuďmi prehýril celú noc.

Ráno ma ešte Nasťa, miestná deva zaviedla do reštaurácie s veľmi zaujímavou tématikou.  Ak si pamätáte filmy, kde sa vždy na dverách najskôr otvorí malé okienko, a až potom vás pustia dnu, tak tu bolo niečo podobné. Človek v okienku povedal Sláva Ukraine, vy ste museli povedať Sláva Hrdinom. Miesto je ževraj veľmi populárne medzi turistami.

Ráno som zistil, že vlak do Užgorodu ma výjde len cca 12 grivní, čo je okolo 70 centov, tak som to zobral, previezol sa cez Karpaty a s medzipristátím v Mukacheve som sa ocitol  v našom pohraničí.

Dorazil som v noci, jediný podnik otvorený do rána bol karaoke bar Polo, čo mi vyhovovalo. Bolo tu pomerne dosť ľudí spievajúcich vlastenecké Ukrainské piesne, ukrainská armáda, ako aj ľudia, ktorí bojovali v konflikte v Lugansku, atď.

Jeden mi dokonca vravel, že už aj zabil pár separatistov…

Ďalšia prehýrená noc…

Po Karaoke pešo na Ukrainskú hranicu, kde som zistil, že cez hranicu sa dá len motorovým vozidlom. Konečne som si môhol splniť svoj korupčný sen, a poslednými 27 grivňami (necelé 2 eurá) som symbolicky podplatil strážnika, aby mi vybavil transport na druhú stranu.

Tak sa aj stalo, na Slovensku som to už nevydržal a zo 2 hodiny si pospal na autobusovej zastávke.

Ráno prišiel za mnou nejaký miestný dedo tmavšej farby, aby mi ponukol kávu a uspokojil svoju zvedavosť.

Vypil som kávu, zjedol 2 rožky, vypočul si jeho verziu názorov na tento svet, keď išla okolo nejaká staršia pani, na ktorú začal niečo výsmešne pokrykovať. Potom mi vysvetlil, že to je slobodná matka, čo malo asi nejakým spôsobom ospravedlniť jeho správanie.

Ešte som stopol oficiálneho vodiča populárnej skupiny Pentagramček hrajúcej satanistický pop pre najmenších, no a v Košiciach som po ťažkom daždi a ešte ťažšom nezáujme slovenských vodičov zastavovať stopárom,(Plus neutíchajúcej chuti byť v piatok večer v našej dedinskej krčme) stopovanie vzdal, a vyrazil vlakom na kysuce.

Sprievodné fakty: za celý čas som prešiel stopom cca 2000 km, výlet trval 20 dní, počas ktorých som minul len cca 80 euro. Nevypil som ani kvapku alkoholu, ale na oplátku som si vypestoval miernú nikotínovú závislosť. Ešte podotýkam, že v celej Ukraine sú momentálne ťažké časy, plyn nie je samozrejmosťou, rovnako ani teplá voda. Ľudia sú však napriek tomu veľmi priateľskí, dávajú aj keď nemajú.

Emócie sú veľmi silné, vzhľadom ku všetkému, čo sa deje. Ľudia majú radi svoju krainu, spievajú si piesne, ktoré im pripomínajú ich nezávislosť od Sovietského Zväzu. Putin tu má reputáciu novodobého Hitlera, kdekoľvek prídete, ľudia si s vami rádi zaspievajú pieseň “Putin Chujlo” (Putin je chuj)

A to by asi aj stačilo. Už som zadrbal pol dňa písaním tohto blogu, tak dúfam, že vás jeho čítanie nejako obohatilo. Nemám už ani moc chuť čítať to po sebe, takže ospravedlnite prípadné chyby, áno som egocentrik a narcista, to vysvetľuje prečo pokrýva môj ksicht väčšinu celkovej plochy fotiek. Ak máte ktokoľvek záujem podnikať podobné tripy, prípadne buskovať na ulici tak ma kľudne oslovte. Možno sa na niečom dohodneme. Život je príliš krátky na to nerobiť  blbé rozhodnutia.

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Slightly offensive trainblog

This is my first blog in English language, I`m writing it in the train. It`s basicly just thoughts inside my head, and as it happens with thoughts. They are random, politically incorrect, and may be offensive to someone. If you find yourself in this “I get offended realy easy” part of population, please don`t read it. Or read it and write me hate mails, I`ll try to create a nice collection of them, if I will write more train-blogs.

As with all first blogs, logically, it has to be about evyrithing from the beginning of the universe to some sort of pre-mid-life crisis, which is actualy something I`m experiencing at the moment. It`s not that a change came to my life, it`s more about no change coming to my, while many changes coming to other people`s lives.
25 is age when people start living more “grown up way”, having different values, being more responsible and boring at the same time. Getting married or working on this annoying little things called children. Somehow, I cannot connect.
But enough of that topic, let`s swich to something else. For example religion. What a blog about everything would that be, if I didn`t mention it. Imagine you are a god, which is almighty, knowing about every jerk you make. You can do anything in the world. Playing tetris with asteroids, taking form of Johny Depp, going to Hollywood and fucking all his female fans, taking form of a dolphin just to swim down to the bottom of the sea, where you become earthquake, creating a tsunami, to show your endless love for people in Haiti, or just become an atheist comedian making jokes about your non existence.
With all of this possibilities, what would be the first thing in the world you would make. I would probably get rid of the Church, because of fucking up my reputation. Nothing personal, just bad marketing nowadays is realy not healthy for your business.
OK, enough religion. Now about education. Don`t you feel something, like we were terribly fooled by this “go study, or be poor and live a miserable life” attitude of our parents? Well I don`t think that this guys wanted something bad for us. It`s just that their knowledge about future is limited. How could they know. And another stupid thing is the CV.
It`s just so fucking annoying to write it, and I can imagine how annoying it has to be for the ones who have to read it. And this advices as how to write it. “And try to leave no emty spaces!”
Just imagine an honest job interview:
Personalist: “What about this 2 unexplained years ”
You : “Well, I was just partiing for my parent`s money, and sleeping around. Those were the fucking best years of my life”
Personalist: So, in the CV you wrote that you have absolutely no interest doing this shitty job, you just need money for your raising alcohol dependence. Can you prove that?
You: Well as I said Mr Personalist, the job you offer, is realy shitty and boring. I actualy never did enough shit to be good doing that. I just can imagine myself, sitting here on the office, chatting on facebook, and sometimes watching lesbian porn if you will please give me my own office. Would you?
Personalist: Well, the thing is… You were absolutely right about the position. It is useless. Our company could be perfectly functional without it, but you know… We could save so much money by just cutting it out, but Buerocracy does not allow a company like us to do that.
Anyway, you seem like a wise guy, who knows what the position is about, and even if it is literally nothing, you are hired. What an Irony.

Well that`s probably all, just one more thing. I totally hate babies crying in the plane, or in the train. Did anybody come up with idea of creating a silencer or just some magical device reducing the suffering of other travellers? Or that would be probably another joke of our lord, to deal with overpopulation by making little babies unbearably annoying in the train. Of course, doing this kinds of practical jokes is only possible if you exist, so it`s probably no joke at all .

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