Some 10+ hours later we arrived in Bangkok. The first thing we noticed upon exiting the plane and heading down the gangway,was how incredibly different the air temperature was here from Europe. It was a change we had both been welcoming for some time, and we couldn't be happier. Before even thinking of exiting the airport, we went in the bathrooms and changed into our board shorts and t-shirts, which we would wear exclusively the rest of our trip.Zanes funds being what they were at this point in our journey, that is to say, almost nothing... we decided to both exchange a small amount at a time and try and manage it well, so we went with $50 each. We grabbed our bags, exited security and headed for the skytrain, which started underground ironically enough. We got our little plastic chip tokens from the machines lining the wall and stood in lines waiting for the security guards to check the train before anyone got on, then boarded.It wasn't long before we arrived in downtown Bangkok, the heat and pollution was depressing, even in the evening, and we soon boarded the city train heading for the central train station. It was 4:50pm, we had been planning on getting our tickets for an 10:50pm train to Surat Thani, which would have given us time to rest and get some food before trying to go through a 15 hour train ride to the South of Thailand, but just as we arrived and found the office for "foreign speakers" meaning English only pretty much, they told us every sleeper train ticket was sold out until the next day, except the last two tickets leaving at 5pm, which was in 2 minutes...We hadn't slept in the last 50 hours, had been in 3 Countries, six time zones, and had been partying like sailors, used four city trains, two taxis, and three subways, boarded and endured consecutive flights totaling 15 hours, gone from Snow to Monsoon weather, and were facing the sorry predicament of staying in a city we had no intention of being in overnight, or pushing ourselves to even greater limits in a all out push to our destination. This is Daniel Maddox and Zane Davis were talking about here, The "Elite" of exceeding the fun limits...We looked at the classic black and white circular wall clock above the lady selling tickets, the 2 minutes we had to decide evaporating into midair much like our strength and poise, then at each other. With sullen smirks etched on both our faces, but raw determination in our hearts, we nodded in unison and bought the tickets. I was pretty worried we'd have no food on the train, but once we found our seats a catering boy came by to take our orders, we gladly paid.We barely spoke on the ride, mostly all we wanted to do was sleep. What little thoughts we had outside of that essential need, were of what was to come on the "dazzling endless summer isles of paradise" we had so perfectly burned into our minds by the advertising armies of the world. A fiction to be sure, this I knew well from my travels, but a fairy tale I entertained for the sake of convenience in a mad hope that our final leg of our travels on this trip would be more relaxing and charming than that of Europe.As the sun disappeared into the West, the cabin crew started setting up the beds in the sleeper trains. Once ours were set up and our gear was reassuringly stowed away in the racks beside us, our food was brought, which if you can imagine, was super cheap Asian food individually wrapped in Sa ran wrap, on a plastic plate, itself wrapped, and then all of it wrapped in Sa ran wrap again... I suppose they thought it was pretty classy, I didn't, but it did keep our food from spilling all over us while bumping all around on the train tracks, that probably had a lot to do with it. We finished our food and we did what we could to sleep, which, to our great dismay, would prove most difficult.
A Dash to The Exit
When I woke up, It seemed as though I had never fallen asleep, like I had closed my eyes long enough to turn off the brain, but only for a moment, and then it turned back on. The first thing I did was roll to one side for a chance at going back to sleep, it was then I realized how much pain I was in, but from what? This question filled my head as I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen for some tea, where I ran into the Hungarian girl.This is where she told me all about Zane and I’s behavior at the Brew Pub last night. With every word being a small revelation. I decided to take a long hot shower and just sit at the bottom of the enclosure as the water ran, getting out and laying back down right after.It wasn’t long after that we both got up and walked back into the main plaza for something to snack on.We met up with a huge couch surfing group at a bar across town after that and this is where things got hairy. The starting lineup consisted of 4 different local beers in succession, each 1 Liter of course, and all pushed gingerly by the couch surfing host who organizes and manages this weekly group of around 30-50 people. A group we joined and got to know wanted to go to another bar, we were fine with that, so a 10 minute taxi drive later we were there.By the time we got everyone there they wouldn’t let Zane and I in because we didn’t have the correct change for the cover at the door… strange way of telling us to sober up, if that’s what it was. Anyways Zane didn’t like the place after that and went home, I stayed and danced with one of the Czech girls I met. We ended up staying up all night and before I knew it, it was 6 am, and our flight was supposed to leave at 7:20! The Czech girl and I rushed back to the hostel, waving off the person at the front desk telling me that non-guests weren’t allowed in the dorm.I woke up Zane, who had only been sleeping an hour at most, and we rushed out of the dorm as fast we could, shoving clothes in every free spot in our bags. I said goodbye to my dance partner in a blur and we got on the tram. Once at the bus station we had something like 30 minutes before our flight left, I was totally sure we’d miss our flight, totally.. Our bus was late and once on board I validated my ticket in the machine and told Zane to do the same. He checked his pockets half-assedly and shrugged, “can’t find my ticket.” “I just handed it to you, check for it.” “Nah, it will be fine.”Two seconds later the ticket police come and asked for our validated tickets, I give him mine and Zane looks for his with more serious focus and finds it, invalidated. The “officer,” or 40+ year old guy in blue jeans and a blue knitted sweat shirt that was probably gifted to him on his 30th birthday party, tells us to pay him $10, we don’t have the money, but I would refuse out of principle anyway. We tell him we just got on the bus and didn’t know. “You validated, why not him?” he asks. “He’s pretty much asleep I tell him.” Then he gets angry and tells us to pay him $40, to which I try and snatch the ticket out of his hands and go up to the driver to settle it. This really gets him going and he gets on his phone, making gestures and comments to let us believe he was calling the police.“I call police, they will wait for you at the airport” He said with a crazy look in his eye, his partner looking shrewdly at us then back at his associate. We just ignored them. When we got to the airport we got off the bus and went inside the terminal undisturbed, hearing the pair’s curses to us as they went the opposite direction.It was a straight sprint to our check in desk from outside. Of course check in was over almost an hour ago, but we soldiered on regardless. I ran to some official looking desk and asked them about our airline. He told me that the counter was closed, but if the flight was still there we might be able to get on if we went to the right desk, so I found Zane and took us to the place he pointed out. They told us that miraculously the flight was very late in taking off and if we ran the whole way we might make it aboard. We skipped straight to the front of a huge line waiting for another flight on our airline, checked in, and ran to our gate, making it with less than 2 minutes before they closed the door, what a rush!Our flight to Sweden went by without comment, except that neither of us slept. During our 5 hour layover in Stockholm however, we were approached by a young man working for some agency that was suing the airline for not notifying the passengers about the layover though,he told us we might get a few hundred out of the deal, which we thought was cool, so we signed his papers and boarded the plane to Bangkok. I can't believe we made it! Four crazy weeks in Europe, and now 6 weeks in Asia? What will happen next?
Last Night In Amsterdam
I got up early and had two apples in the cafeteria alone. Zane was still asleep, I knew there would be nothing for me there, but still, I just wanted to eat in the same space as the other people there. As much of a lone wolf I seem to be at times, Im really much more of a social animal than I admit to be, even to myself. A reality most lone wolves probably share. When Zane woke up we left for the city center to have brunch, Zane didn't feel like a salad, so Venkel was out, which meant we'd have to discover something new. After walking about aimlessly in our usual way through the city center I chose a place that in the end, was way too expensive and low quality in both portion and taste for the price. Kinda bummed at the whole affair we returned to WoW and after a short rest headed back out at around 6ish for our last night out in Amsterdam. We had our first two pints each at the same place we played pool last night. We played four games together, Zane won the first game easily, I beat myself the next two games by calling the wrong hole for the 8 ball, but won the final game. Just as the night before, after playing a few games of pool the establishment told us the table was closed. Then when we left and swung around later the table was open again for other players... Was it just us? Or do they do that for everybody all the time just to keep the competitive nature in people down to a minimum? I couldn't say. Whatever the case may be, Zane was sure it was because of his pool playing prowess and they couldn't have unbeatable players ruling the table.Since we were now fairly inebriated, the next thing to do was to smoke, this time it was my idea, so I got to choose the place. Remembering a sweet little shop we entered before but left for lack of a bong, I decided to go there. On our way, as we were crossing a small bridge ,we saw a man flailing on the ground, twisting and reaching for things round him. He seemed to be alone but I couldn't really say. He wouldn't be for long, because a moment later several security personnel appeared and held him down. He screamed and continued to shout in panic as they then dragged him away behind an ambulance. From the looks of him, he was most probably on a strong psychedelic, mixed with all the usual suspects, tobacco and alcohol. Which in a major city environment such as Amsterdam spells disaster for almost anyone not well versed in the trans-dimensional arts. Inside this little shop I bought a gram of something and rolled it up into a pure joint. We went up to the upper level and sat by the window, watching as that poor guy was being sedated by a gang of strangers sent to take him away. It wasn't long before the shop would close, in fact we had to power smoke the joint just to beat their closing, which was fine by us. I still had some unrolled marijuana left, but I didn't care to smoke it in the morning, so I just ate it plain, which is actually not all that uncommon for me, it doesn't get you nearly as high, but its far better for you than smoking it.We went into a few more bars after that, including the karaoke bar we met the Belgian girls, which was now full of 50 high school German kids, so we didn't stick around. Then Zane convinced me to go to a live sex show, but I instantly regretted it before we got inside and backed out the last second. Instead we decided on a topless bar, which cost 5 Euros to get into for the night, instead of 2 Euros a minute for the sex show. We get into this place and its all run by ladies, topless ladies, there isn't a single lady there with a top on, so it's well and truly a topless bar. Everywhere you looked there was a seductress of one flavor or another waiting for the smallest excuse to run up to a guy and trap him in a lap dance, or better yet there was a bleach blond white girl at the bar who would fling her legs around your unsuspecting head and work her thighs as she held onto a metal bar above the catwalk. That was my first impression. My second impression came down on me like the sword of Damocles, in the form of a huge black woman dancing in dangerously sharp heels on the bar. She flew down from the walkway that her and the other girls were dancing on and then she went looking wildly at each man before her with her piercing gaze. Finally she came to me and grabbed my shirt pulling me to her, I immediately threw my hands up and made every effort to indicate I had no money to pay her for the service, luckily she saw this to be true and moved on to a well dressed white man in his 60's, he tried the same technique but she wasn't buying it and he literally had to run away from her, not once but three times! At this she jumped back on the bar and tore off her underwear and went harder than ever on the pole. Three other men rejected her in the same way as she attempted then to reel them in. But I'm sure that a man befitting her caliber would be around sooner or later.by huge I mean she easily had 70 pounds of pure muscle on me and could probably pop my head open like a rotten melon between her thighs. This is not to say she was unattractive, she was simply too much woman for me or anyone there apparently to handle. Zane spent €37 on two gin and tonics that glowed in the bar light, which made is both broke for the night, so we left as soon as they were empty. We were pretty smashed when we left, I don't think we even knew where we were going. We were following behind a group of girls when suddenly and without the slightest warning one of them smashed her head into a stores plate glass window at full force. Luckily Zane and I were just in time to grab her limp body and help her down. Instantly every one of her friends disappeared, leaving just us and this poor girl who had just knocked herself out cold. She came to in a few seconds and we explained what happened to her, she seemed to understand so we helped her up, then just as soon as she seemed to be all together her eyes roll back in her head and she begins to spasm out, this time falling to the floor so quickly he couldn't catch her. This is when her friend comes back with the police. "Do you know this girl? What happened?" They say cooly, with complete detachment, obviously having seen this same thing hundreds of times before. 
Zane tells them "We were behind her when she just hit her head, we don't know her," and then I show them the mark she left on the window. Before we leave Zane gets a one on one with the girls friend and tells her that she really needs to watch her, she could really hurt herself. We leave the seen content with our part in the story and make it to the night bus, getting home by 2am, and so concludes our first trip to Amsterdam!
Knowing your environment
The first thing you do when you arrive in a new country, is get yourself oriented. For those of you who think you need no sense of direction whatsoever because your being guided everywhere you go, I would point out that a sense of space time relation to your experience is of great value, on a tour, on your own, or everyday life, it doesn't make a difference. The ability to lead oneself or others towards your goal, and keep a reliable record of your path is a fundamental skill in life. Without it, you would not be alive here today. Hone it, and it will serve you well. This rule is especially true in megacities, ones so big and complex they are known well not in totality but in speciality to groups of people. So having a map, with your desired locations already clearly marked, is a superb advantage. Yes you can google it, but wheres the fun, or safety, in keeping your head permanently lowered at your screen, with countless dangers surrounding you in an environment you don't know, following directions from a robot voice who could care less about your circumstances, when you can look at everything around you, engaged in the experience, and asking others, especially locals, for help. Not that the locals of such megacities will be too keen to help every single tourist, of which millions come every year, but it is a good strategy in general. There is no better guide than a local after all. My time in Sweden was very short, one full day and two nights. When I arrived at the airport I exchanged $60 into 400 something Krona, which added to my left over Krona from last time. Bought a ticket on the bus with my moms debit card, they don't take cash in many places around Europe now. Digital cash is more and more the choice of the Banks. Less to worry about on their end, but what about mine, what about yours? What happens to privacy when you cant possibly buy something, without a record of it tied to your whole life's purchasing history? You know how any product you look at on the internet comes up in those pop up windows? Well what happens when those things are based on a lifetime worth of data and not just a one time shopping desire? Especially for things you want to keep to yourself. Either way, it will be a much different world than today. Arriving in Stockholm central I figured the general direction of the hostels in town and headed out. The first locals I met to ask for directions to a certain street were just walking away from a taxi they refused to get into. I asked the lady for help and "piss off!" Was my answer. Thinking nothing of it I turned to the gentleman behind her and she swung around to face me as though just realizing I was there, probably true as she seemed quite drunk. "Oh im sorry, I didn't mean you, it was the taxi. What do you need?" All they could muster in their state was what I already knew, the general direction I was to go, and so I went. Soon after that I walked passed a nice looking Hostel, named city backpackers. The hostel was full so I was given two other options. Although the cheapest choice was closest, the desk clerk suggested I chose the latter of the two, which, I was to find, was closed to reservations long before I arrived. The 2nd option was my last. Upon arrival my first impression was that I could relate to the desk hands suggestion, but that for my needs it was superior to more than half of all the hostels I've ever stayed with. I chose to stay one night, and look around tomorrow for better one or remain here. My bed was in a room of seven double bunk beds, with 8 or so people. The most notable thing to say about it was that each bed had its own locker and night lamp affixed to the frame above your pillow. It was 1am when I finally put my things away and got in bed. Two things of note happened between getting in bed at 1am and going to sleep at 4am. First, me and another guy had to tell another room mate to leave the room while talking on his phone, and second, I got out of my bed and turned off a bed light which someone had left on in a bunkbed that wasn't even in use and no one had thought to turn off for their own sake or those of the group to help sleep. Even after 2am! This helped greatly for me to relax, even with the blinding street lamp outside shining through the cracks in our blinds straight on my pillow. By 3:30am my nerves were beginning to fray. I had gotten enough sleep on the planes to keep me alert but not enough to give me peace. So I repeated the following mantra:Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find. This mantra alone is worth 15,000 hours of education, once you understand your power to draw whatever you want to yourself by what you keep in your mind, you become the master of your own creation, how nice that everything you could ever want is all inside to begin with. And so, asking to sleep, and seeking it out, pushing all else away in my mind, I slept. In the morning I set out to find the best Organic shops around town. After buying a gigabyte internet credit for my phone, for which I used the sim card I bought but couldn't use last year when I was here because my previous iphone was locked. Anyways it was very useful in allowing me to finish tasks I had left unfinished at home and look for new places to see in Stockholm and also for my next stop in Amsterdam. The first place I went was closed, but the second was open. This place was very well decorated, with a beautiful atmosphere. I made my own salad and told the owner I run a raw Organic Juice shop in my hometown, he then became very interested in speaking with me. His name was Johannes and shared with me a great deal of his goals to open enough shops to one day, "be bigger than McDonalds" a worthy goal indeed!I got some aloe water and headed off in search of Stockholm's only Cold pressed juice bar. After wondering around the subway for a good hour I finally got to the right area. In this case every local I asked was as clueless as the next about where this juice bar might be. I finally found it though, it looked as though it hadn't been open for a long time, weeks maybe or even months. Maybe its the way it always looks and once they sell out they revert to anonymity, who knows. I returned to the hostel and got some shut eye, the staff let me check out and return my key, while I slept until I having to leave at 3:30am for my flight to Amsterdam, Europe's capital city of legal drugs, sex and mayhem...