Travel 3: MOAR

There's nothing inside this big pyramid (Memphis, TN).

I'm a bastard who likes to travel. I believe it broadens the mind and teaches you things about the world. This year I returned to one of my favourite cities, Barcelona. BCN is great because it is full of weird shit. Everyone who goes there will remark on the abundance of strange and wonderful things to be found on every corner and in every street.

Raval es mejor barrio.

I like the way that someone's shredded jeanshorts were nailed up here. As a warning? Centrepiece?

Here is an Ashley Madison themed parking garage. Note the addendum (topical at the time the pic was taken), which reads "fuck off, you cheaters".

This was a skull I liked.

Moreover, this is a very exciting and exuberant city because of its active populace and strange rituals. You will never be short of things to do and see.

This is something people do in Barcelona when they're bored. They spin these things with sparks shooting everywhere and you get in like an open air mosh and you try to not get burned (but if you do, even better).

On alternating occasions, Barcelonians parade giant birdcage fairy people around.

And here is a sassy giraffe. Not sure if rad or kind of degenerate.

You saw nothing.

Travelling the world is one of the best things you can do. Research that I can't be bothered to link to suggests experiences are a better investment than things, because they last longer. We should all enjoy the opportunity to travel while we can and see the sights before the clouds break and our civilisation is lost in a tsunami of horror forever.

Happy Kick A Ginger Day!!!

As you know, November 20th is Kick A Ginger Day. Although link related does contain references to a "national" Kick A Ginger Day, this is a festive tradition that is enjoyed all round the world, from the Aborigines of Australia to the Incas of Peru. For legal reasons the site advises that it is a joke and not a real holiday, but I leave it to you to read between the lines.

Concerned parents need not be concerned: there is nothing in the whole Beatles discography that prohibits kicking gingers. Moreover, extensive evidence suggests that, had the goblin fish hair, it would be ginger.

Let's all shun the goblin fish. Photo by Dianne Bray.

So should you kick a ginger? Well all civilisations have their own traditions. In Spain there is an ancient tradition of dropping a goat out of a tower, and the national anthem of Spain translates roughly to "Fuck goats/I hate the goats/I want to drop them out the tower/Because they piss me off so bad".

The solution is obvious: we can save these beautiful creatures and spare gingers from their much-warranted kicking all at the same time, by combining the traditions. Henceforth, Spain shall drop gingers from the towers. Everyone wins.

Moar phun with travel.

Many years ago I wrote a piece about how travel broadens the mind (and Warrington kills it). Looking back through my travel pix I noticed more unusual things worth sharing, so here it is.

This is literally the equivalent of show and tell, using the stuff you find in your pockets. I'm so burnt out :(

Sideways DVDs on sale in Spain.

So far as I can tell (after literally some research) this is only happening in Spain, and perhaps Spanish speaking countries. Why make sideways DVDs? Well, why make vertical ones? And for that matter, why put the North Pole at the top of the map? Why not the bottom, or even the side? And then it hits you: in the whole wide universe, which way is up? The way our magnetic north faces? But why? And then you picture rotating the universe on its head, just because of a weird promotion in a Spanish mall. When I said travelling expands your mind, I meant it in the drugs way.

Things I learned from Berlin:

-Their little green crossing man wears a hat

-At least one mall has a toilet that rotates and cleans the seat

-There's a man dressed as the Predator (or the Predator himself) outside the Brandenburg Gate:

The best clock in the world: as the man's sword arm drops, the globe rotates, leaving the monkey pointing to the current hour.

See that strip of green in the distance? That's the fabled Green River melon fields.

Every year in September Green River, Utah, hosts a Melon Days festival, during which the town swells to literally thousands of people. Highlights include a large carved effigy of a melon slice being carted through the town as a float. I was so sad I couldn't make it this year that I went to the movies instead.

The toilets in Sun Studio are shaped like guitars.

This is so cool, it makes me want to spend even more time on the crapper, preferably reading Tim Gautreux and listening to "Walk the Line" or "Mystery Train". Goddamn I love America (srs).

Travel broadens the mind (Warrington kills it).

Ever since the womb, I've hated flying. Flying is when you wait twelve hours to get shoved into less space than a bus, between a great big fat person and the one window seat that doesn't have a window, only after getting molested by jackbooted throwbacks who used to beat you up in school. I'd rather travel by Cuban refugee boat: seventeen twigs held together with rubber bands and prayer and a crew of wild-eyed desperadoes paddling with their dicks. The good news is, flying can take you to places in other countries, specifically that aren't Warrington.

Vans around the world: New York and Barcelona. Note that in Spain, Garfield bears the eight-pointed Star of Chaos.

Everywhere I've been around the world has had something interesting to show, except Warrington. Some have thought-provoking art and history, others beautiful scenery, or unique culture, or wildlife, or even inexplicable craziness like this:

Berlin statues, left to right: Boy staring melancholically at armadillo; holy shit!

Dicks on sale in Barcelona.

Even cool things can be found in unexpected places: Green River, Utah, which is basically a truck stop, five houses and two joggers (source) has a sweet cool museum about John Wesley Powell, the one-armed Confederate Civil War veteran who mapped the Colorado River, losing nearly all his crew in the process. This is exactly the kind of thing you could drive past and never know.

Pictured: Green River + entire population.

The great mad bastard himself.

Warrington is the worst place on Planet Earth. In a survey of over 100 squirrels, not one person recommended Warrington as a tourist destination. The only recognisable picture of Warrington you'll ever see is of these big gates:

Looks impressive...until you go there, and there's nothing to either side of them. Spread the word: Warrington crops.

Warrington's top attraction.