/ 5:44 PM

Day 5, and day 4 in summation

It’s been one helluva adventure, I must say. I was afraid a solo travel would bore me off my mind due to the fact that the lack of a companion would mean absence of a partner to share my random yet much needed verbal diarrhoea. But I must admit it’s been quite a great couple of days.

In the bus at the moment towards Goteborg, phone dead, left my charger at Aini’s (excellent Syida, excellent…) and bus has no functional wifi. On a normal day that’ll scream a big huge de jode puta…fan helvete…mitra vitoa…and anything synonymous to those in a million dialects and languages possible. But today, when I look back in retrospect, I guess it is a day to muse about.

Yesterday Aini and I walked around Central London again, this time she showed me the East side of Central. Started out by heading towards London Bridge, and then walked all the way to Brockbury (or was it?) Market place, and then to The Globe theatre (which was a bit too pricey for me to get in). Went into Tate Museum and explored our childish behaviours. Crossed the bridge towards St Paul Cathedral, and then took the bus towards Finnsbury towards the Emirates Stadium. Walked around and then went to Piccadilly again to have hot chocolate at this café (awesome shit I tell you) and then I ran to Victoria to catch my bus. Yes, one helluva adventure that was.

I had my fair share of going around town in Liverpool today, starting the day (early, mind you) around Albert Dock, admiring the pier and being self-poetic. And yes I talked to myself, as a sign that I am suffering this thing called a “Lack-of-talking-company syndrome”. It’s a real diagnosis alright, I’m not kidding! Anyhoos, I pictured a love story right there at Albert Dock, before I came across the International Slavery Museum and got nausea at my thought. Not a very conducive place to get all sappy huh. Past the maritime museum, walked around the dock and past The Beatles Story, which unfortunately I could not find time to re-visit at a more sane time later in the day.

After musing around Albert Dock, I walked down the glamourous street of Liverpool One and had breakfast at McDonald’s, and ironically picking up the free wifi signal from Burger King. Had an awesome budget breakfast and became a paedophile when I found myself smiling at a couple of school boys a few seats away from me. Well, can’t blame me, they were too loud for me to avoid my eavesdropping habit anyway. But with those appetizing English accent, they have all the right in the world to speak as loud as they want to alright. I couldn’t help but be fascinated.

After figuring my day itinerary, I had an insane idea to do some creative production, in the name of being in the culture capital of Europe. Hurhur. Got my ass to starting on it, it’s going wik-kid yea! Lol.

Found my way wandering around town, seeing the National Museum, The Victoria Monument and such, and then took the bus to min preferit! Anfield, baby, Anfield.

Anfield Road felt so homely to me suddenly, as I alighted from the bus and stared at the gigantic red Kop logo. There I was, looking up to the sweet homeground I’ve always been admiring from the TV screen. Home of the Kops, grounds where legends such as Ian Rush and Kenny Dalglish once stepped, and legacy carried forward by sensational names of today such as Steven Gerard, Dirk Kuyt, Fernando Torres and the the list goes. I beamed deep down as I knew my mission for this trip was about to be fulfilled.

Got myself a stadium tour ticket, and while waiting, visited the museum where I was surrounded by shiny glory of the Kops from time to time. The Istanbul Story of 2005 was featured in the movie room, as fellow fans reminisced in the miraculous victory our team clinched back in the days against AC Milan. Who’d forget that legendary match when Jerzy Dudek managed to save the penalty shoot outs which contributed to the Kops winning that year’s Champion’s League. And then, after chatting with a few fans, shopped a little for the brother and father at the official store, and made it in time for the stadium tour.

It is moments like such which redefine my ambition to be a journalist, sometimes. Or a TV reporter, or whoever so long as I can be in the scene to capture such legendary sporting moments and be the one to tell the world about it. Sigh, dreams.

By the time I got out from the stadium vicinity, I knew I had to run. Time to be in a mysterious coordinates, baby.

/ 5:44 PM

Day 5, and day 4 in summation

It’s been one helluva adventure, I must say. I was afraid a solo travel would bore me off my mind due to the fact that the lack of a companion would mean absence of a partner to share my random yet much needed verbal diarrhoea. But I must admit it’s been quite a great couple of days.

In the bus at the moment towards Goteborg, phone dead, left my charger at Aini’s (excellent Syida, excellent…) and bus has no functional wifi. On a normal day that’ll scream a big huge de jode puta…fan helvete…mitra vitoa…and anything synonymous to those in a million dialects and languages possible. But today, when I look back in retrospect, I guess it is a day to muse about.

Yesterday Aini and I walked around Central London again, this time she showed me the East side of Central. Started out by heading towards London Bridge, and then walked all the way to Brockbury (or was it?) Market place, and then to The Globe theatre (which was a bit too pricey for me to get in). Went into Tate Museum and explored our childish behaviours. Crossed the bridge towards St Paul Cathedral, and then took the bus towards Finnsbury towards the Emirates Stadium. Walked around and then went to Piccadilly again to have hot chocolate at this café (awesome shit I tell you) and then I ran to Victoria to catch my bus. Yes, one helluva adventure that was.

I had my fair share of going around town in Liverpool today, starting the day (early, mind you) around Albert Dock, admiring the pier and being self-poetic. And yes I talked to myself, as a sign that I am suffering this thing called a “Lack-of-talking-company syndrome”. It’s a real diagnosis alright, I’m not kidding! Anyhoos, I pictured a love story right there at Albert Dock, before I came across the International Slavery Museum and got nausea at my thought. Not a very conducive place to get all sappy huh. Past the maritime museum, walked around the dock and past The Beatles Story, which unfortunately I could not find time to re-visit at a more sane time later in the day.

After musing around Albert Dock, I walked down the glamourous street of Liverpool One and had breakfast at McDonald’s, and ironically picking up the free wifi signal from Burger King. Had an awesome budget breakfast and became a paedophile when I found myself smiling at a couple of school boys a few seats away from me. Well, can’t blame me, they were too loud for me to avoid my eavesdropping habit anyway. But with those appetizing English accent, they have all the right in the world to speak as loud as they want to alright. I couldn’t help but be fascinated.

After figuring my day itinerary, I had an insane idea to do some creative production, in the name of being in the culture capital of Europe. Hurhur. Got my ass to starting on it, it’s going wik-kid yea! Lol.

Found my way wandering around town, seeing the National Museum, The Victoria Monument and such, and then took the bus to min preferit! Anfield, baby, Anfield.

Anfield Road felt so homely to me suddenly, as I alighted from the bus and stared at the gigantic red Kop logo. There I was, looking up to the sweet homeground I’ve always been admiring from the TV screen. Home of the Kops, grounds where legends such as Ian Rush and Kenny Dalglish once stepped, and legacy carried forward by sensational names of today such as Steven Gerard, Dirk Kuyt, Fernando Torres and the the list goes. I beamed deep down as I knew my mission for this trip was about to be fulfilled.

Got myself a stadium tour ticket, and while waiting, visited the museum where I was surrounded by shiny glory of the Kops from time to time. The Istanbul Story of 2005 was featured in the movie room, as fellow fans reminisced in the miraculous victory our team clinched back in the days against AC Milan. Who’d forget that legendary match when Jerzy Dudek managed to save the penalty shoot outs which contributed to the Kops winning that year’s Champion’s League. And then, after chatting with a few fans, shopped a little for the brother and father at the official store, and made it in time for the stadium tour.

It is moments like such which redefine my ambition to be a journalist, sometimes. Or a TV reporter, or whoever so long as I can be in the scene to capture such legendary sporting moments and be the one to tell the world about it. Sigh, dreams.

By the time I got out from the stadium vicinity, I knew I had to run. Time to be in a mysterious coordinates, baby.