Amsterdam

O.k. so I know I'm getting old.


I stock up on knitted beanies in every city I visit.


I have tanties when facing more than a day without a decent cuppa.



I get excited about pot plants (the boring sort).


But I don't care how young you are - those bicycles are Stressful Dude. Whatever happened to a good ole roaring engine and tooting horn to warn blind pedestrians like me that they're about to be run over?!



Amterdam TRANQUIL?! My ass.

Liverpool

I promise you, I did buy a few beatles magnets.



I looked at hedges pruned in the shape of ringo starr and admired a few too many statues of john lennon.

I even rode a bus past "Penny Lane Auto Repairs".



But for some reason, I only took photos of ugly redevelopments and government-sponsored street art.



(small print reads: the average person thinks they're more intelligent than average)

Porto Heli

The greek islands. Now THIS is more like it...



Buffet breakfasts and boozy lunches to views like this, thank you very much.



Fellas, its a pink t-shirt-white pants kind of a place.



The only downside was sharing my flight home with offensive propaganda trying to make us all feel better about cheap airfares by reminding us that car emissions continue to contribute more to ozone depletion than airline fuel. Argghh. Easyjet - I just added you to my list of evil empires.

Athens

I wandered aimlessly around Athens for a day, and I promise you I did think about visiting the Acropolis.



But it was 20 euros to get in, surrounded by busloads of middle aged couples wearing white shorts, and if I'm honest, it all looked kinda grey .



The graffiti on the nearby streets was more welcoming ("I love my mom. So Fucking What").



So to assuage my guilt, I took a semi-arty shot of an ikea-cast-grecian-urn-type-thing. Watch and Admire.

My hat hangs here

This city is tough, I'm telling you.


Exhibit A: my local tube stop on a saturday afternoon.


Exhibit B: the view from my bedroom window (in spring).


Exhibit C: the stampede of crazy people who vy for a place in the London Marathon.


Exhibit D: the hordes of people who gladly give up their sunday morning to cram themselves into a train carriage underground, just for the chance to stand on a random footpath in the rain and clap for a few thousand marathon runners.


On an entirely unrelated note, I met a girl in this city who refuses to hire anyone with a c.v. written in times new roman.


Needless to say, I am relieved to have chosen trebuchet.