The Muddle East Awards
Some overdue highlights.
Neolithic breakfast waiter: The Mercure, Luxor
This is where Sophie and I discovered that hysterical giggling keeps waiting staff at bay. This one particular guy would lumber over bearing a pot of coffee and kind of let out this long, deep grunt. It was too much to bear, and it wasn't long before we were practically snorting with laughter. We are nice people, really.
Identically cloned policemen: Egypt
I thought I was seeing things. Cast from the same mould, I tell you. Black hair, chiselled jaw, neatly trimmed moustache, serious yet handsome. All of them. Every single one. Pristine white uniform with pistol and rifle... sexy.
Bounciest bed: Crowne Plaza, Petra
After much jumping, flopping, crashing and diving onto, these came out on top.
Briefest flirtation: Holiday Inn, Amman
A series of smiles and waves between balcony and lobby in the space of about two minutes. What a smile it was.
Strangest dream: Crowne Plaza, Petra
My memory of this dream begins in a sort of department/hardware store, though I dimly recall something leading up to this point. There with me is Ian, an acquaintance from Melbourne, whom it would be difficult to find someone with a more disjunctive personality to my own. He is being violent, smashing things and I am failing to subdue him with words... then somehow or other, I think someone else says something, I have the realisation that Ian represents another personality inside me, and so it is in fact me that was smashing things. At this point I let out a soul-wrenching scream and collapsed to the floor, blacking out. I came to as people were carrying me into a whiteish building. But it was not nurses and a hospital, but people I used to work for at Linden art gallery, carrying me into their own splendidly decorated home. I groggily noticed white walls, nice rugs and a side-board w/mirror, and then through an interior window I saw a collared cheetah resting on a lounge. From the side-board, a kitten of similar markings to Krupnik stretched out to attack my hand, and left strange holes in it from which blood did not flow. Anyway, that's all I really remember. I blame it on the food.
Neolithic breakfast waiter: The Mercure, Luxor
This is where Sophie and I discovered that hysterical giggling keeps waiting staff at bay. This one particular guy would lumber over bearing a pot of coffee and kind of let out this long, deep grunt. It was too much to bear, and it wasn't long before we were practically snorting with laughter. We are nice people, really.
Identically cloned policemen: Egypt
I thought I was seeing things. Cast from the same mould, I tell you. Black hair, chiselled jaw, neatly trimmed moustache, serious yet handsome. All of them. Every single one. Pristine white uniform with pistol and rifle... sexy.
Bounciest bed: Crowne Plaza, Petra
After much jumping, flopping, crashing and diving onto, these came out on top.
Briefest flirtation: Holiday Inn, Amman
A series of smiles and waves between balcony and lobby in the space of about two minutes. What a smile it was.
Strangest dream: Crowne Plaza, Petra
My memory of this dream begins in a sort of department/hardware store, though I dimly recall something leading up to this point. There with me is Ian, an acquaintance from Melbourne, whom it would be difficult to find someone with a more disjunctive personality to my own. He is being violent, smashing things and I am failing to subdue him with words... then somehow or other, I think someone else says something, I have the realisation that Ian represents another personality inside me, and so it is in fact me that was smashing things. At this point I let out a soul-wrenching scream and collapsed to the floor, blacking out. I came to as people were carrying me into a whiteish building. But it was not nurses and a hospital, but people I used to work for at Linden art gallery, carrying me into their own splendidly decorated home. I groggily noticed white walls, nice rugs and a side-board w/mirror, and then through an interior window I saw a collared cheetah resting on a lounge. From the side-board, a kitten of similar markings to Krupnik stretched out to attack my hand, and left strange holes in it from which blood did not flow. Anyway, that's all I really remember. I blame it on the food.
posted by Jeremy | 10:26 am
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