Five on the Sly

Now it's true, throughout the trip we had developed a bit of a high five culture. High five for this, high five for that; frankly, we were running out of things to high five about.

So it was the first day of our Croatia boat trip and we were all sitting around on deck, chatting with the new acquaintances. The topic of conversation had shifted to "mindless-jobs-that-we-got-paid-too-much-for", and Shelley was telling the story of her stint at Diamonex, which involved answering the phone twice in three months. Mikey, who was sitting roughly 5 metres across deck and facing into the sun, was listening intently.

"I was being paid $25/hr, and they said I could bring in a book to read," said Shelley.

"Oh you go girl!" said Mikey, raising his hand to sheild his eyes from the sun at the same time.

This turned out to be an unfortunate combination of words and action. He may as well have waved a red-flag at a passing bull at the same time. Shelley saw the raised hand and thought, "OK, it's a long way to travel, but I'm not one to leave a brother hanging". She raced across deck and smacked his hand.

I was sitting in the middleground, seeing it all happen in slow motion:

What is she doing? Where is she off to in such a hurry? Oh she's not...no...

Mikey took it well. He did however leave his hand up afterward to keep his eyes shielded.

So for the rest of the trip we had a new brand of high five: the I-Was-Actually-Just-Shielding-My-Eyes-From-The-Sun High Five.

Rome: Part 1

Rome: an excellent city, made more excellent by the fact that many Italians had left town on holiday, and made less excellent by the fact that it was as hot as the bright side of the moon outside. I mean it was hot. Shelley and I slept in a dorm room (fools!) with no air-conditioning, and eight other heat-generating bodies. Why so stupid?

On the second night I awoke (for the sixth time) to find that I had literally run out of dry places to sleep. I mean it was all wet (yes with sweat), and not in a refreshing way. When I returned to my bed at around 2PM the following day it was still wet. Rome needs to learn how to evaporate, I mean that was just silly.

Still, the insane heat was off-set by excellent gelato, and the refreshingly cold mountain-water fountains dotted around the city. That water was goood. And free. Thank you mountains.


Anyway, on the first day we found our way to the Colosseum, and bought tickets to go inside with a long-winded tour guide. The tickets were a few euros extra, but this way you got to skip the 100 metre line to get in. Crafty.

Soon after entering the Colosseum you come across this:


It was apparently engraved there after the fall of Rome by pimps and/or their prostitutes, to communicate to patrons that this was "where it's at". Sadly, both Gerrod and I missed the whole picture, and (as evidenced by Gerrod's photo) only saw a pair of breasts ... which I thought was quite ambiguous - could have been a 'W' for all we knew.


Anyway, now we know.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

While in Rome we paid a visit to the Spanish Steps, that place where beautiful people go to be seen. Such was the vibe of the place that Gerrod tried to coax the three of us into some supermodel poses while we walked down the steps. Kristy and I quietly declined; Shelley was just waiting for someone to suggest it.

Spoiled rotten.

Sunday was my birthday, and the first non-moving weekend in our new flat with Kristy and Gerrod. To celebrate we enjoyed fruit pancakes with champagne for breakfast while I opened my presents and received my well-wishing birthday calls.


It wasn't long before I was on a hunt for my Presents from G and K, and found (you guessed it) a dance-music playing, light-flashing hula-hoop. We are not good at the hula-hooping.


Kristy and Gerrod had also set up a croquet course in the backyard for a little bit of healthy Sunday morning competition. It turns out that people don't always let the birthday girl win. Gerrod was the undisputed champion for the day, but I did manage a win a little later on. The hat helped.

At around 3pm, a few friends started to arrive for my Mexican Fiesta. Julian had been meticulously preparing for this event for days. We still have about 3kg of home made refried beans left over if anyone has any ideas? Fortunately the rain held out for long enough for us to spend a bit of time outdoors on our patio before we were forced inside for delicious black forest cake and pecan pie. We are still very happily eating the leftovers.


*please note: hula-hooping skills are improving daily.