So I consider myself a fairly experienced traveller. I have had my blood sucked by leaches in Thailand, scammed by taxi drivers in Turkey, gotten Bali Belly in Indonesia, been abused by T-shirt sellers in Vietnam, perved on German belly dancers in Dubai, been propositioned by ladyboys in the Philippines and in Laos, and been maliciously herded by hermit crabs while heartbroken in Cambodia.
Now that I have laid out my credentials, there is a problem- the more you travel, the more the places, experiences and people tend to blur together, often aided by the culture and infrastructure travellers tend to want and expect.
This poor bastard trying to sell counterfeit Ray-bans to tourists at Alona Beach could be plying his trade in Indonesia, Thailand or Vietnam with no changes to his sales pitch. In any SE Asian island you can walk around in a day, you will find a Reggae Bar, where it is as easy and as acceptable to buy dope and light up a joint as it would be to buy and drink a beer. The middle-aged white guys with their young, pretty, local girlfriends could be at any country where the realities of economics makes the line between dating and prostitution a lot more hazy than in most western countries. The rooms I stay in tend to be the same as well, no carpet, a slab of foam on a low frame, power points in inconvenient locations, and cold water showers.
During quiet moments its enough to leave me wondering why I bothered leaving home.
But then I have another beer and get over it. A few beers later I start to wonder if I am a standard issue short-term traveller, clinging to my private rooms instead of dorms, spending too much time at beaches rather than exploring the countryside. My tan a tad too light to be convincing, staring at exquisite Korean women for too long, and thinking of home a little too often.
Adrian's Got The Moose 