As I’m still far behind due to being bone idle and actually having no real humdingers to regale you with, I’ve rolled a few stories into one just to keep you entertained and up to date, beginning with a brief description of my New Year. Now as far as this goes, this wasn’t a bad’un. Standing on the 11th floor roof of the hostel as the Almaty night sky lit up with 360 degree fireworks and there were worse places to be. I didn’t take any pictures because I couldn’t really be bothered so you’ll just have to take my word for it that it was good. Kazakhs prefer to stay at home with family until after midnight, then all hell breaks loose on the streets. You’ve got to be careful you don’t get a rocket in your eye too, as nobody really cares for health and safety, and you’ll get little warning of one whizzing toward your head. Still, it’s all fun and games eh?
One by one the party team of travelers and peace corps volunteers dwindle until it’s just me. Standard. This was a combination of a friend nearly starting a fight with a bouncer and numerous casualties vomiting in taxi’s. People in glass houses shouldn’t throw parties. As ever yours truly isn’t done until the fat lady sings, but she was well and truly belting it out at around 10 am in the morning. My days here were numbered.
I stick around in recovery mode until my Kazakhstan visa expires, which in hindsight I really shouldn’t have done, as I was playing a little fast and loose with the time frame and hitchhike. As it turns out, two older travelers are making a visa run to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, which is only a few hours up the road. I weigh up my options, and decide to join them, taking a skeletal back pack and leaving my guitar and other bits and bobs. I figure I’ll jump around Kyrgyzstan for a few days doing wholesome activities, before returning to collect my Chinese visa, pick up my stuff, and continue the hitch from Almaty to the Chinese border. All being well, I’m shooting for Beijing for their New Year on the 8th February. Two Christmases, two New Years. I haven’t had enough of getting fireworks thrown at my face.
Then the wheels start to come off a little. David Bowie dies. Now I try to stay away from current affairs, opinions and what’s going on in the world – because I don’t want to piss anyone off and I find writing something fresh about it all to be quite a challenge. However added to the fact that less than a week later Alan Rickman also leaves us (both at the age of 69), I felt that I just wanted to pen a few words. Especially as they both lost their respective battles to cancer.
You only had to see the enormous outpouring of grief for these two incredible men to appreciate the impact and inspiration they had in their fields. There’s nothing I can say here that hasn’t already been said, and I won’t dwell on it, but there’s something I want to touch on that I discussed with my sister. If you were born in the late 70’s or early 80’s, we’re reaching an age now where all our heroes from those decades growing up are going to pass on. Every generation has men and women of legendary status in the arts, sports and so forth, but one thing they all have in common, is that as much as we’d wish it wasn’t so, they’re not going to be with us forever.
But 69 is really too young isn’t it? Dad went at 76, mum at 68 – both from cancer related deaths. We shouldn’t have it in this day and age! For the millions we spend on research, support, medicine, treatment and operations, surely we have the technology to cure this horrible blight on our society? Often courting conspiracy theory, I wonder if we do have the ability to successfully fight the disease, yet the pharmaceutical companies and money men are keeping clandestine for profit. Will we ever really know?
But we must keep fighting the good fight I suppose. I’m still trying to raise some pocket-money for Macmillan Cancer Support, so if you’re that way inclined, please donate a couple of bucks via my donations link at the top of the page. Thank you.
And so begins a time when the best are taken from us and we wonder why we’re crying our eyes out over people we never met. But we invest so much of our lives in our heroes that we almost come to know them personally. Especially the likes of Bowie and Rickman – two men so charismatic in personality that they were your best mates and if you asked them round for tea they would have come. Meanwhile there are those still wasting good air providing nothing of value, while the people who make the world a better place leave us and it just doesn’t seem fair at all.
But the simple fact of the matter is – that’s just life. People die, and we need to get used to it. Just be thankful you were around to share in that magic in the first place. Here’s to our heroes. Whether they were family members, teachers or global superstars – the world will never see their like again.
New year, Bishkek visa run and losing our heroes
As I’m still far behind due to being bone idle and actually having no real humdingers to regale you with, I’ve rolled a few stories into one just to keep you entertained and up to date, beginning with a brief description of my New Year. Now as far as this goes, this wasn’t a bad’un. Standing on the 11th floor roof of the hostel as the Almaty night sky lit up with 360 degree fireworks and there were worse places to be. I didn’t take any pictures because I couldn’t really be bothered so you’ll just have to take my word for it that it was good. Kazakhs prefer to stay at home with family until after midnight, then all hell breaks loose on the streets. You’ve got to be careful you don’t get a rocket in your eye too, as nobody really cares for health and safety, and you’ll get little warning of one whizzing toward your head. Still, it’s all fun and games eh?
One by one the party team of travelers and peace corps volunteers dwindle until it’s just me. Standard. This was a combination of a friend nearly starting a fight with a bouncer and numerous casualties vomiting in taxi’s. People in glass houses shouldn’t throw parties. As ever yours truly isn’t done until the fat lady sings, but she was well and truly belting it out at around 10 am in the morning. My days here were numbered.
I stick around in recovery mode until my Kazakhstan visa expires, which in hindsight I really shouldn’t have done, as I was playing a little fast and loose with the time frame and hitchhike. As it turns out, two older travelers are making a visa run to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, which is only a few hours up the road. I weigh up my options, and decide to join them, taking a skeletal back pack and leaving my guitar and other bits and bobs. I figure I’ll jump around Kyrgyzstan for a few days doing wholesome activities, before returning to collect my Chinese visa, pick up my stuff, and continue the hitch from Almaty to the Chinese border. All being well, I’m shooting for Beijing for their New Year on the 8th February. Two Christmases, two New Years. I haven’t had enough of getting fireworks thrown at my face.
Then the wheels start to come off a little. David Bowie dies. Now I try to stay away from current affairs, opinions and what’s going on in the world – because I don’t want to piss anyone off and I find writing something fresh about it all to be quite a challenge. However added to the fact that less than a week later Alan Rickman also leaves us (both at the age of 69), I felt that I just wanted to pen a few words. Especially as they both lost their respective battles to cancer.
You only had to see the enormous outpouring of grief for these two incredible men to appreciate the impact and inspiration they had in their fields. There’s nothing I can say here that hasn’t already been said, and I won’t dwell on it, but there’s something I want to touch on that I discussed with my sister. If you were born in the late 70’s or early 80’s, we’re reaching an age now where all our heroes from those decades growing up are going to pass on. Every generation has men and women of legendary status in the arts, sports and so forth, but one thing they all have in common, is that as much as we’d wish it wasn’t so, they’re not going to be with us forever.
But 69 is really too young isn’t it? Dad went at 76, mum at 68 – both from cancer related deaths. We shouldn’t have it in this day and age! For the millions we spend on research, support, medicine, treatment and operations, surely we have the technology to cure this horrible blight on our society? Often courting conspiracy theory, I wonder if we do have the ability to successfully fight the disease, yet the pharmaceutical companies and money men are keeping clandestine for profit. Will we ever really know?
But we must keep fighting the good fight I suppose. I’m still trying to raise some pocket-money for Macmillan Cancer Support, so if you’re that way inclined, please donate a couple of bucks via my donations link at the top of the page. Thank you.
And so begins a time when the best are taken from us and we wonder why we’re crying our eyes out over people we never met. But we invest so much of our lives in our heroes that we almost come to know them personally. Especially the likes of Bowie and Rickman – two men so charismatic in personality that they were your best mates and if you asked them round for tea they would have come. Meanwhile there are those still wasting good air providing nothing of value, while the people who make the world a better place leave us and it just doesn’t seem fair at all.
But the simple fact of the matter is – that’s just life. People die, and we need to get used to it. Just be thankful you were around to share in that magic in the first place. Here’s to our heroes. Whether they were family members, teachers or global superstars – the world will never see their like again.