October 2005 |
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OK. I was wondering how do write this up seeing as our month in Europe will have it’s own big write-up elsewhere on this site. I decided I’d keep with the general idea of my Journal and talk about things I have done, rather than turning this into a travelogue, talking about my impressions of places. Of course, if you do want a travelogue you could always check here, here, here or here. Anyway, due to a freak of accounting we spent all of this month away from our beloved home and touring around our beloved Europe. The basic trip went Sydney – Amsterdam – Berlin – Prague – Vienna – Venice – Florence – Genoa – Monaco – Barcelona – Southampton – London – Singapore – Sydney.  Rocky settles in for a good nights sleep in Amsterdam. We stayed in the Black Tulip Hotel in Amsterdam. Our aim was to settle ourselves in comfortable lodgings for a few days after the 20 hour flight from Sydney. The Black Tulip is a "Gay Leather Hotel" and each room is fully equipped with all the gear you need to make your stay as comfortable (or uncomfortable) as you like. Our room came complete with leather bed-spread, rubber floor, sling, St.Andrew's Cross, and coffee and tea making facilities. I was absolutely shocked to find that in one of the night clubs that we went to in Amsterdam, two boys were dancing completely naked on a stage while fondling their semi-erect private bits. They even allowed some members of the audience to give them the occasional feel. I was so shocked that I had to keep coming back over and over again to see if I was judging them too harshly. I wasn’t – it was definitely shocking. We also managed to check out a sauna in Amsterdam. Now, before you ask, this is not the sex tour of Europe. It’s just something we had to do. Anyway, this sauna was Massive Massive Massive. It was huge huge huge. It was empty empty empty empty. The guys who were there were certainly nothing to write home about, so I won’t. Mind you, I’m sure if any of them have their own web sites then they are probably saying the same thing about me. Needless to say, there was no sex to be had in Amsterdam, nor was there any in Berlin. We’d arranged to be in Prague on the weekend so that we could take advantage of their nightlife. We checked out one of the local gay clubs, Termix, where we found a huge number of cute Czech boys milling about, drinking and dancing. Greig managed to find himself in a back room of the club where a boy told him that he was willing to suck his cock for just 20 euro. Now two things struck him as odd about this:
In the main part of the club, I was finding the guys friendly and happy to chat in English. I actually spent a great deal of time chatting to a nice guy who turned out to be French, but now living in Prague. We also checked out a Sauna in Prague. (This is not a sex-tour of Europe!) It was a real non-event for me. I managed to lure some poor unsuspecting boy into one of the nine cubicles that the venue had, only to find out that as a result of eastern block HIV education programmes, he was too afraid to have actual sex. I spent the next hour and a half counselling him and explaining safe sex to him. It was just like my days back at ACON, except back then I was wearing clothes. Needless to say, there was no sex to be had in Prague, nor was there any in Vienna or Venice. While in Florence, we checked out a newish club called Tabasco. It has the potential to be a fun place, but on this particular Saturday night it was pretty dull. Obviously this is not the place to be in Florence. I have no idea where that place is. The music was pretty funky though.  Greig and Rocky in Florence. I learned that in Florence they don’t measure their drinks. I learned this because after just three drinks I was completely legless. It seems that when you order a scotch and coke, they half fill a glass with scotch and then squirt a splash of coke somewhere in the general area. Maybe it was just that the barman liked me. He must have liked me a lot. He must have liked Greig as well. Needless to say, there was no sex to be had in Florence, Genoa, Monaco or Barcelona. Mikey and Will were kind enough to hold over their house warming party in Southampton until we were in town to attend. It turned out to be a real blast with a nice mix of ex-pat Aussies and local boys. The alcohol flowed freely, however due to unforseen circumstances, certain other renowned British five quid party favourites failed to eventuate. Bugger. Because the boys were letting us stay in their house, I ended up having a little nap early in the night while the party was still in full swing around me. That was probably a good thing as it gave me the energy to at least try to keep up with the locals. Fuck those Poms know how to drink!  A pause for a photo in the dance space. Of particular note was the houses “dance space”. (OK, the dining room.) It spent most of the night full of cute boys with their shirts off dancing like it ws 3am on the dance floor at Mardi Gras, not 3am in the dining room in Southampton. I must admit I did spend a little time in there, after all it was the warmest place in the house! Needless to say, there was no sex to be had in . . . errrr . . . Barcelona. Mikey had arranged for some tickets for a group of us to see Mel Brooks “The Producers” live on stage at Drury Lane. This is one of those theatres that we Aussies hear about but few have ever actually been to. You hear of all sorts of classic shows “live at Drury Lane”. You never really expect to actually go and see one. Now we have. Unfortunately the guy in front of us kept on standing up and waving his arms about wildly. He turned out to be the conductor – Mikey had managed to get us front row centre seats! I’m not sure exactly who Mikey had to blow for these tickets, but we were certainly stoked. The show was brilliant. Both Greig and I love the work of Mel Brooks and this would have to be one of his best. Seeing it front row centre at Drury Lane as the climax to a month touring Europe certainly made the experience the most memorable of the entire trip. But there was no sex to be had in either London or Singapore. |
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