Cyprus December 2018 – Germans and Crack

I just sent the picture below to Ghost. They be nice people it seems to me. ๐Ÿ™‚

I always did like Germans, northern Europeans in general, but Germans. There’s a no nonsense thing about them or you’ll hear about it pronto like. I’ve always made friends with them. Remember the mushroom guy, Mountain Man? From 1.8 km up in the Alps. The one who makes the rounds of festivals, camping and plying his trade. The ones he harvests up in his mountains. He was on his way to Bolivia, but would stop at a festival with these two girls who cropped up at the table.

He put a little Buddha with incense outside my tent, and gave me a bag of freshly harvested a presumed mushrooms big enough for two people. We spent a lovely evening with the American stripper who shared me my bag for two. Ecstasy was produced.

And I like the bike. It’s a kick ass piece of work. A beast. King of the road and mountain. Eater of the miles and dirt and a city dweller of stature.

Told the immigration officer I been coming to Cyprus since before he was born.ย Bit my lip, not sure what humour he was in.
Turns out he’s in good humour and 35 years old.
So yes, since before he was born.

And I used the crack again once or twice always to good effect.

Been making friends with Cypriots too. You have to get past the persona they give to foreigners, tourists, and visitors, all of whom do seem to blends into a hum. Best keep a distance,. tourists can do your head in.

I been allowed to dance with all the nice ladies.

Stewart Innes Ghost Stewart Innes Ghost Stewart Innes Ghost Stewart Innes Ghost

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