I like numbers. Here’s a few.
5 – The number of months we’ve been away and the number of months we have left to go. We had to cut the trip short by a couple of months due to budget concerns (we planned on 12). That’s what happens when you let Democrats in the White H0use! Shit, time be going by. Both fast and, at times, not fast enough.
29 –The number of places we’ve stopped at. The criteria for this is we had to spend the night. And yes that includes Toronto and Pickering.
3 – The number of colds I’ve had. Who gets colds in the tropics? Damn beautiful air conditioning.
8 – The most dollars I’ve paid for a beer. Legoland. Fuck you, Lego. And that was for Carlsberg. Eight Canadian dollars (or the equivalent in Malaysian Ringgit) for a goddamn Carlsberg! What a fool I was.
.86 (cents CAD)– The least I’ve paid for a beer (both in the same country). And for a Tiger, which is much better than Carlsberg. Well, much is a strong word.
3 – The number of times I’ve heard other people having sex. They must not be travelling with a kid. Sigh.
1 – The number of camels I’ve ridden.
0 – The number of camels I ever hope to ride again.
16 – The number of flights we’ve taken. Christ. Excuse our carbon footprint. I’ll plant a shrubbery when I get home.
4 – The number of flights we’ve paid for (and those were cheap-ass Air Asia flights).
6 – The number of lizards I’ve encountered in my bathroom. Thankfully, no big-ass spiders, cockroaches, foot-long centipedes or Yetis taking a poop. Still 5 months to go. Damn Yetis.
7 – The number of countries other than Canada that we’ve been asked if we are from. They include; US, Germany, France, Australia, New Zealand, Italy and Brazil (?). And when we do tell folks that we’re from Canada, they almost always ask, “From Quebec?!”
0 – The number of times if we’ve been asked if we’re from Canada. Even the Canadians, who ran the little restaurant on Koh Lipe, asked us if we were eating our first poutine. I laughed in their pasty Canadian faces.
8 – The number of mosquito bites I got in one night in our bungalow on the island of Koh Lipe. Mosquitos – natures way of proving that there is no God. Fuck you, bitey things.
2 – The number of dudes who snored during transport. One on a plane, one on a ferry. The guy on the ferry was so loud his hands were violently shaking and he drowned out the audio of the crazy Treat Williams action flick, Operation Rogue, that was playing, for some weird reason, on the TVs. Must get that film for the stores!
7 – The number of times I’ve considered murdering my travel companions.
0 – The number of times I acted upon those feelings. Still 5 months to go!
??? – The number of different beds I’ve slept in. I lost count months ago. Has to be nearing 100 though. No bed bugs though! Damn I just cursed myself. Ow! What was that?!
??? – The number of man buns I’ve seen. Come on dude, you hardly have any hair. Why tie it all up with your girlfriends scrunchy to have it perch upon your head? You know, you weren’t actually born here. Try wearing that back home in Red Deer.
??? – The number of terrible tattoos I’ve seen. So many and so many bad ones – fancy writing with pseudo inspirational quotes are the ones I hate the most. Like what the fuck does that even say? “Blob Marlie loves me murghh in the blorghhh?” So you have to stare at her back to make out what it might say. Then your a perv. I’ve seen many examples of why you should never get a tattoo of someone’s face – like your new fresh baby or girlfriends. Looks like a loaf of bread fresh out of the oven. With a face on it!