2002

If it wasn’t for the carrying of this beautiful football, the games we play with it, meeting our friend Rich (I love him), the search for Chris’ Grandfather’s grave (a highly charged, sensational moment, read Chris’s version of events here), and the final delivery of our ball to the Opening Ceremony at the World Cup (if we make it), I would never have made this journey at all.

The constant movement, being so close to Chris (I love him too but the wedding’s off after this trip ends, unless someone would like to sponsor us separate rooms?!!) and mollicoddling travel agencies are driving me bananas.

The tourist trade seems to turn the whole world into a theme pub that tourists trawl round offering nothing in return, keeping visitors apart from the visited. If you do have something to offer in the wilds of other cultures, the wilds become tame and you are no longer a scared ‘holidaymaker’ getting a ‘taste’ of some ‘exotic’ land, but a contributor.

Everywhere is dangerous and on your own is just as safe and far more expressive. So my paranoia abates. I am honourable in my requirements and my givings and head out on my own. This in turn gives Chris and I some space (wedding’s still off darling). Fear mongering is rubbish. George Bush is another perpetrator.

—-Anyway, rant me up Scotty

Chris adds:
NOT, for example, to be found in the tourist brochures is this image of Aral Sea shrinkage from NASA.

Posted by Phil

This entry was posted on Friday, April 26th, 2002 at 1:25 pm and is filed under Uzbekistan. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.