First post

"For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn."

Ernest "Papa" Hemingway used to say it was the best story he had ever written. I'm not sure I agree, but then again who the heck am I to contradict him? So I decided to start off with this short story as usually blogs are full to the brim with metaphysical divagations, wrapped around prose sweet enough to give you a toothache. I'm not a big fan of that kind of writing so with Papa's permission I will try and be the most concise, clear and stoic possible.

I thought about starting a blog for a couple of reasons. One was that both of my brothers have one, and of course I cannot let those two maggots get one over me. And the other that I will be travelling quite a lot from the end of the year onwards, and writing here will be easier than sending mass emails that no one will ever read (having a blog that no one ever reads is way better than sending emails that no one ever reads, clearly). So here I am, kicking it off with this post because I had to start sometime, and today was as good a day as any.

Where will I be travelling, my dear reader might ask (or not, as many of you won't give a flying fuck whether I will be travelling, staying put, or locked up in a prison cell with a very big and very bald white guy, that has "LOVER" tattooed on his chest). Well, since I myself don't give the same flying fuck -or other flying fucks really, as there are probably lots of them flying around- I'm going to tell you anyways. So like I was saying I will be travelling to the South Pacific, that very remote and very amazing part of our world. I will start off in Australia (Melbourne first as my little brother Joaquin is living there), and then move around cangaroo land until they kick me out... which will probably be after 3 months when my tourist visa expires. After that its New Zealand for (you guessed it, a further 3 months) and then I will just roam the South Pacific islands looking for beaches to surf in, palm trees to sleep under and booze to get drunk on (not necessarily in that order).

So that is it. No fanfare, no fancy story, no nonsense. Maybe it would have been better to write something cooler and a little bit more ellaborate... but then again, Papa wouldn't have approved.

And dammit, Papa knew.