Monday, 8 February 2010


Although Kevin is no longer with me for the return journey he still gives me plenty to write about. Even without Munchy he still gives me plenty to write about!
After betraying his beloved Munchy, selling her to a hareem, Kevin arrived at Sevilla airport, Spain. Once there he had to wait 12 hours for a bus to take him to Portugal. During that 12 hours, with very little money, he walked around a bit, taking in the sights of this lovely city. As a result of this his feet began to blister. So he found a nice quiet spot to sit a chill whilst he waited for the bus. He was approached by two of the fuzz. "Passport(o)", they demanded.

Spanish Police yesterday

Kevin obliged and they seemed happy enough that he wasn´t the kind of suspected criminal they thought he might be. Later two more people, claiming to be the fuzz approached Kevin with the same demand. He nervously handed one of them his passport, only after he had seen their badge\I.D. and noticed the gun that this guy was discreetly showing him, hidden under his jacket. The passport was passed onto his companion who started to walk off with it.  Kevins alarm bells were ringing loudly by this stage and in the same manner that he demanded beer wherever he went, he demanded that they returned his passport.
Which they did.
Rather promptly.

During that day, more fuzz asked Kevin for his I.D. It must have been the nice jumper he bought in Chefchouan that made him look like a ´homeless´ that made him stand out from the crowd.

How Kevin could have looked yesterday

He finally caught his bus and ended up in Tavira, close enough to his final destination. There were no taxis around at this time of the night (not that he had enough money for a taxi anyway) so he had to walk the remaining 4km or 5km with blistered feet.
He picked uip his bag, gritted his teeth and set off again.
He arrived at the villa he was staying, in total darkness. The gate had to be dismantled to get in. He had to find his key. He found that there was lots of mud around. Or at least he hoped it was just mud. He couldn´t quite see. All he could hear was the squelching of his mud filled boots and the chorus of frogs in the background.

His dodgy stomach never quite made it all the way home without mishap either. I´ll let you all ask Kevin about that one if/when you see him next.
But he did eventually make it back to the villa in one piece and in a tired slumber, he finally went to bed.
The next few days, whilst waiting for me to stop messing around in Morocco, he started work on "Munchy 2".

I have since seen Munchy 2 and all I can say is, "Good luck".
Morocco? Phaah! No worries. Mongolia more like.
This is going to be a beast. I may even have to upgrade the Vespa to keep up with it.
Watch this space.

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