slightly sarcastic travelling blog

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Kilometer 34 202: Singapore by land, Singapore by air

I love traveling by land. This way I get to experience something more than I would flying through half of the world in half a day. I can feel the distance in my own personal legs. I feel that I am actually wandering around a part of the world. Recently, I had the perfect companion to these overland journeys: the book “A fortuneteller told me” by Tiziano Terzani, one of my favorite authors, a phenomenal Italian reporter, who was told by some Chinese astrologer or tarot fortune teller that he would die in a plane crash. He decided to take this as a challenge and spent an entire year in an airless journey through Southeast Asia.


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Kilometer 33 998: Tioman – on cat mafia and diving insights

A muscular red tomcat with a scar just by his snout and a bitten tail circled around my legs for the fifth time. I took a critical look at my plate: nasi lemak – rice steamed in coconut milk with fried egg, hot sambal sauce and – aha! a few fried tiny anchovies… The look in his eyes was friendly, indulgent even. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed five of his smaller, bony, far less friendly-looking cat bodyguards gathering. I just met the cat Al Capone. I could say goodbye to my anchovies.


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Kilometer 33 286: on the Malay culinary Mecca and the capital of murals

I spent 1,5 hours in h&m trying on clothes that I a) didn’t want, b) didn’t need, c) didn’t like, d) didn’t intent to buy. Aha! I can see you looking for the solution in the mysterious meanders of female logic. That’s not the right path. There was good air con in h&m.

Having cooled down a bit in h&m (you can only imagine how enthusiastically Piotrek went into the store with me!), we take a stroll around Georgetown – the culinary Mecca of Malaysia and the Asian capital of murals.

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Kilometr 32 924: on Carol Beer, platform 9 3/4 and fireflies

I like lights. Lights are nice. I can’t be in Kuala Lumpur and not see my lights. – Justyna and Marek came to visit us and barely had they landed, she wanted to rush to the mesmerizingly illuminated  Petronas towers immediately. I went a bit further in the interpretation of her “light” wishes.

petronas towers

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Kilometr 32 382: the Asian sick story

Well, I got my share of luck. Having fallen victim to two gentlemen on a motorcycle, I’m sitting in Melaka two months longer than originally planned, persuading my collarbone to grow back faster after the mentioned gentlemen pushed me off the bike, tempted by a very low-profile, rag backpack that in no way indicated its contents, while carrying half of the electronic devices we used to possess.

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Georgia in headphones: 5 ways to cope with autumn

It’s here. This is the moment when you get less excited about your pumpkin ginger soup and the mushroom risotto. The chestnuts that you found are getting covered with dust and the neighbour’s dog took the charm away from the colourful pile of leaves.

Soon you’ll be scraping frost off your car, coming home from work without seeing the sun for the whole day… Braise yourselves. Autumn has come.

How do you cope with it? I know one way: the mountains! If not actively, than at least aurally 🙂

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Kilometer 31 120: Angkor Wat aka how to become Indiana Jones for a day

Don’t go to Siem Reap! The entrance fee to Angkor Wat has gone up, the temples are just temples, the city flooded with tourists… You’re better off staying longer on the island. – The hotel manager was obviously pleased with our work, but why resort to such arguments?

I haven’t met anyone who wouldn’t want to visit Angkor Wat. It’s about the same league as the Taj Mahal and Machu Picchu. Is it touristy? Oh, it sure is! But no one really hopes that by going there, they will become the new Indiana Jones and land on the National Geographic cover, do they?

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Kilometer 30 967: a depressive journey to a depressive capital

Hitchhiking in the back of a pick-up car.

Wind in your hair, panoramic views, environmentally friendly air con. A feeling almost as good as galloping on a horse back…

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Kilometer 30 647: on tattoos, plankton and the Berlin Love Parade

Theany, the smiling captain of the resort boat, rolled up his sleeves to reveal the home-made tattoos. On the left forearm: Sory mama, sory papa, and on the right one – the name of the hotel for which he works. A few months earlier, one of the construction guys had left his tattoo machine in the resort, and it quickly became a very popular toy. Holding back the giggle, I thought to myself that tattooing a girl’s name was not the worst idea afterall

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Kilometer 30 385: on the burdens of a bartender in tropics

I need a holiday from my holiday.

In the recent weeks, I began to observe a slowly but steadily growing reluctance to explore, directly proportional to the desire to stay in one place for a while, catch up with some TV series, work for more than two days in a row…

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