Actually in Paraguay now for reasons I´ll explain another time. Suffice to say that the only English speaking person we met when we arrived at the airport, was a United Nations worker here to help clear up chemicals, who just looked at us and said incredulously ¨What are you doing here?¨.
Anyway...just had an amazing few days on one of the world's most remote inhabited islands - Rapa Nui (Easter Island). Hooked up with heaps of great people from all over the world, and shared rented cars to see the tiny island. It doesn't take long to realise how different life is when you're cut off from civilisation - it may be the wild horses running down the main street (or tied up outside the island's nightclub/shed), it may be the dead dog outside the accommodation (when I complained about the smell, they assured me, they would sort it out. They did - a pile of sand now covers the dog...and the smell). Or maybe I realised when I went to rent a car and asked if insurance was included. I was told "we don't have insurance on the island, everybody is just careful". Love it - what a great attitude! Tell you what, let's phone Lloyds of London and tell them the game's up - from now on we´ll all just be careful.
Needless to say the islands main attractions didn't disappoint - the hundreds of mystical Moai (huge stone carved statues that people are still trying to figure out how were moved around), and the island's volcanos were fantastic to see close up.
And of course, Crap Elvis managed to spend some time wandering around.
But were other forces at work? Just minutes after the photos here were taken, I fell mysteriously ill. High fever, vomiting, aching, sudden tiredness. This lasted for 24 hours during which no matter how increasingly tired I felt, every time I shut my eyes to try and sleep, it was like a radio came on in my head pumping out bloody Elvis songs. Do you know what it´s like to hear the first line of ¨Heartbreak Hotel¨ for 8 hours straight?...well I do...and it´s not very nice. So was it the ancient Gods of Rapa Nui I´d offended, or was it the spirit of Elvis deciding that having already done spooky things to my knee before I left, more pain was necessary in a bid to stop my crap impersonation? Come to think of it now, it was probably the half-cooked fish I ate the night before.
Some video for you:
Met some great people including those in the photo below:Richelle(US) and Alejandro (Chile), and Jian and Nele from Belgium. At first glance, Jian just happens to be wearing a yellow top, but the story behind it proves that Mums around the world are all the same. Before he embarked on his world trip she wanted to buy him the national football shirt of Belgium to take with him. Unfortunately the shop was sold out.....so she bought him a referees shirt instead. Anyone who has a mum will understand.
I thought I might try this interesting dish for a starter, although it made the rest of the night a little awkward. Anyone else for double rape?
Crap Elvis in the media update:
Had a good chat the other day to Chris Costello at 4BC in Brisbane. Also have been told of a couple of TV spottings on the ABC and Channel 7 from when we were in Parkes.
Thanks to Cookey for a spot on his online scribblings http://www.theperthfiles.blogspot.com/
Thanks to Guy Wilkinson from Sydney´s Sun Herald paper for his bit which appeared this weekend in the Travel section, and can now be found online by clicking here
A small excerpt from that article below:
¨Not all impersonators are out to win karaoke competitions, though. Matt Hale, 37, originally from England but now residing in Perth, has his own unique mission. Before leaving for a year of travelling, Hale happened across a $30-Elvis suit. Unable to resist its allure, he splashed out for the costume and soon after, his alter ego was born - "Crap Elvis."
Hale's objective soon became clear - to tour the world performing in Elvis competitions, in order to lose. So far, while dressed in his already fraying suit, Hale has run with the bulls in Pamplona, posed with the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro and reaped the coveted last-place prize in the Parkes Elvis look-alike competition.
"I don't sound like Elvis, look like Elvis or sing like Elvis," Hale tells me over a beer. "I'm never going to be the best. There's no point just being in the middle there so you might as well be the worst," he says before taking to the stage.
His tub-thumping rendition of A Hunka Hunka Burning Toast has the pub roaring with laughter. Clearly, even diehard fans of the King are relieved to see a new slant on Elvis impersonating.¨
Alright. Time to head off down another Paraguay backstreet in search of something. Anything.
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