Around the World in 80 Girls: The Epic 3 Year Trip of a Backpacking Casanova (36 page)

The
three Julias in Russia, all those girls in Cambodia, several one-night stands in other countries, Donna and Lilly in Indonesia and all those girls I banged at my buddy’s house, it became a blur in my mind. Girls who had good jobs, girls who barely had anything, girls who loved me, girls who hated me, the drama and the fights in Cambodia, my phone that kept ringing all day. Jealousy, rage, why am I here? Why do I not have a wife and family back home? What idiot travels around the world for this long? Am I a winner or a loser? What am I running from? I felt angry, I felt powerless…. I felt exactly like I did years before on the weekends when I always went out and couldn’t get a girlfriend. I was too scared to approach or talk to any girls, stood around awkwardly trying to be cool, walked home and kicked garbage cans out of frustration and self-hatred, telling myself I would be better the next week, only to do the same thing all over again. After picking up all these girls, I still felt bad for myself. Tears rolled down my cheeks, Jenna cried too. We fell asleep in each others’ arms.

We
said goodbye the next morning and I went back to Manila to stay a few days, meet some friends and hang out in the guesthouse. I relaxed a bit and started thinking about my trip. I felt better about myself after letting go of all my emotions the days before, but felt very uneasy being alone at night. For the last couple of months I had not been alone much. In fact since Bali I had only slept alone a couple of times in D-Lux’s house; most of the nights I had a girl staying over, either a fuckbuddy or a new one.

One
girl who always stayed in the guesthouse was interested in me. She was in her thirties and I knew her from the times I’d stayed in this guesthouse before. Picking her up was a piece of cake and we went to a love hotel nearby, had sex and that was it. A day later I ran into my first Filipina girl in the guesthouse again and banged her too.

On
one of the last days I met a friend of Carry’s, the girl who lived in the poor area in the city in the south. I had met Yhana there and the three of us had some chicken dinner in a nearby street restaurant. She was pretty and had a nice set of boobs and nicely shaped lips. She wanted to see me in Manila and I agreed to it. She flaked on me the first night and the day later I noticed her sitting in the bar across the street from the guesthouse. I walked over, said what I had to say about her flaking on me and sat down with her. She was there with her “sister”, who was a lady boy, and another girl. Yhana went for my charms.

We
walked along the Manila Bay waterfront and started kissing. She bit me in the lip a couple of times and it really hurt. I told her to stop or I would leave. She stopped doing it for but started biting me again a few minutes later. I gave her a short soft slap in the face, pointed my finger at her and told her again not to do it anymore. She actually got excited by that and we went to a love hotel nearby. She was only nineteen years old but when she dropped her towel after the shower her body looked and felt very saggy, her breasts looked big before but felt like deflated balloons now. Her skin was soft but her legs and arms were flabby.

She
had done a good job hiding all this in her tight dress before. She had probably gained a lot of weight when she was pregnant before and lost it all afterwards. Or maybe she had always been fat and she decided to get skinny afterwards. It felt weird. After a short blowjob she mounted me and I felt absolutely nothing. It was like she was riding me without me being inside. We switched to missionary and again I felt nothing, she was wider than the room we were doing it in. Finishing was nearly impossible like this. I’d already had trouble with it since I had so much sex with so many girls I didn’t feel much for. Doggy style always worked but this time I had to bang so hard that my heart rate went through the roof and I needed to catch my breath for several minutes afterwards. It surprised me that she had actually enjoyed all of it and asked for more.

How
the hell could she have liked it? I felt like I was fucking air when I was inside her, she couldn’t have felt much either. She started getting wild again but my dick was out of service. She jumped on me and began biting me again, telling me to rape her. Wow, this girl was a freak.

I
slapped her around a bit and choked her, and she became wilder and wilder and fought back like a lioness. I was not in the mood to have sex again but wanted to please her anyway; I used my fingers and kept putting more of them inside her all the time until nearly my whole hand disappeared inside her. WTF! When she was finally satisfied, we slept a bit and left the room later. The only thing she said was not to tell her girlfriend what happened. Yhana was beautiful to look at but the worst lay ever. Another mindless fuck with someone I barely knew. I still have most girls on my Facebook but except for Jenna I don’t have much contact with them.
 

I
had forgotten all the guilt, regret and self-pity I felt in Cebu.
 

Nr
40.
 

Half
way there….

Chapter
Four – Oceania

Oceania – Australia

My plan was to go from the Philippines to Australia, then visit New Zealand and carry on to South America. Looking into things, I found that single flights were horribly expensive, especially the one from New Zealand to Argentina or Chile ($2-3,000). It turned out to actually be cheaper to buy a round-the-world ticket. A lot cheaper. I paid $1,700 for this: Singapore to Sydney, Sydney to Auckland, Auckland to Buenos Aires –and even an extra flight include from Buenos Aires to Santiago de Chile. Four flights for less money than just one. The only problem was that I had to decide how long I was going to stay in Australia and New Zealand. I figured twenty-five days each would be enough. The countries were horribly expensive anyway and I didn’t want to spend much money in a western country. South America and hot Latinas were waiting on the other side.

I
flew from Manila to Singapore, stayed there two days, and flew to Sidney. Donna told me that she couldn’t meet me there. This was the second time she’d promised something and called it off later. She then said she’d try to meet up in Sydney and spend some time with me again. It never happened and I lost contact with her not much later, when she told me she was going to move to Perth and stay with one of her boyfriends, and probably marry him. She’s too wild to ever be a long-term relationship option for me, but still I had such a good time with her that she is still on my mind from time to time. But so are many other girls too.

The
Brisbane customs had it in for me: I had to make a short stop there before I flew to Sydney. After a long interview, a study of my passport and ongoing tickets, I was able to convince them I was only planning on doing some sightseeing and would then be moving on to New Zealand. Non-Australians over thirty aren’t allowed to work in Australia, so customs are worried when they see rogue backpackers coming into the country who might take on an illegal job there.

Everything
in Sidney, and I mean everything, was expensive. I stayed in a hostel that looked like a backpacker factory. There must have been at least four hundred people there so everything was really impersonal. The ten-person dorm cost twenty–six dollars a night and I spend about ten to fifteen dollars a day on food. The cheapest pack of cigarettes was twelve dollars and a pack of Marlboros cost eighteen dollars.

Except
for the sightseeing I didn’t like the city at all. Sure, the Sydney Opera and the famous bridge are beautiful, and so are a few other things, but it’s just a big city like I’d seen many times before in Europe. The girls there weren’t really lookers and I wasn’t interested in backpackers at all. After all, I’d just come from South East Asia, where life was dirt cheap and girls were very welcoming and caring.

One
of the first nights I went to a club where I had to pay eleven dollars for a small bottle of beer. In the Philippines I could buy almost ten beers in a club for that money. I couldn’t help calculating everything and seeing how impossibly expensive it was for a traveler who didn’t have a job there. One night I pulled some Australian girls into the movie room of the hostel. I kissed and finger-banged a 17-year-old Australian girl there and when I went out to the hallway with her and made out some more, trying to find a place to bang, a drunk English guy just stood there watching us make out, The fucker just stopped walking and looked at us from no more than three meters away. We asked him to leave us alone and he asked why. I told him that he was being creepy and bothering us and he got all aggressive. The girl told him to go away too, and I told him to fuck off and he started shouting and cursing. The girl rolled her eyes and said something like “men” and walked off. I went after her but all this aggressive behavior had turned her off and she went to bed. When I walked back to punch the fucker in the face now that the girl wasn’t there to witness it, he was gone.

Let
me be frank about Australia, I didn’t like it much. Can’t say I had a good time. Maybe I had outgrown staying in a hostel full of twenty-two year olds. Everything cost too much to have a fun time. Staying in a hostel , eating a couple of fast food meals, smoking a few cigarettes and having a beer already busted my budget, let alone going out to a club, paying the entrance fee and having an expensive beer, or taking a taxi or even the damn bus. There were some places with cheaper beer and it wasn’t all bad but I wasn’t in the mood for gaming. For the last one-and-a-half years I had been in Second- or Third-World countries (except Japan and South Korea) and returning to the stressed Western world was hard on me.

The
Blue Mountains were something different. It’s a nature park close to Sydney and it takes a few hours by train to go there. The natural scenery is beautiful and some sights gave stunning views over forests and canyons. It’s a must-do if you’re around Sydney. I did a few hiking trips around the area and met some interesting people along the way.

I
moved on to Melbourne afterwards and met a German guy in the bus on the way there. He was a bit nerdy but I could have good talks and fun with him. There was a guy we called The Schwein on the bus. You kind of had to be there, but this was a huge guy in an old suit with his fingers full of paint, who had some disgusting habits. He would put his seat down and lie half-over his chair so that I, being unfortunate enough to sit right behind, almost got crushed. He was snoring, burping and even farting a few times. He even rinsed his mouth with water and then spit it out on the floor. The guy was a swine.

I
talked a lot with the German guy, and it turned he had even published a book himself, so I told him about my plans to write one. He was enthusiastic about the idea and tried to push me towards it a bit, but I was depressed about my current situation. The whole no-money thing, the unattractiveness of the backpacker girls and the longing for the good times I had living well in South East Asia on little to no money combined to get me down. I despised the western world and hated the thought I had to go back to Europe one day.

After visiting Melbourne I did a one-day tour with the German guy to the Twelve Apostles, a natural landmark along the Great Ocean Road. We also saw some of the famous koalas from up close. Melbourne is a nice city but it gets boring real fast once you’ve seen the sights. The only thing I really liked there was the AC/DC lane, an alley dedicated to one of my all-time favorite bands.
I tried to get with one of the friendly girls from Singapore I’d met on the one day trip but that failed.

I
was running out of time and enthusiasm for exploring Australia anymore, and I just went back to Sydney and stayed in a different area of the city, Kings Cross, the seedy part of town with a few small hostels and lots of strip clubs and bars.

I
stayed in a small hostel there and felt way more at ease but still suffered from some major bouts of depression and approach anxiety. I just couldn’t wait to go to South America and experience some real travelling again.

The
hostel wasn’t an impersonal four-hundred-person backpacker factory like the others in the centre. This was a rowdy place with maybe forty beds and small common areas where people knew each other. We were smashing the bags of Goon every night and had atrocious hangovers the next morning. Goon is a surrogate for wine but it doesn’t even have grapes it in. It’s sold in ten-dollar plastic bags with a tap on them. The plastic bag goes in a carton but as soon as the bag of Goon is half empty people rip the carton apart and take the bag out. A four-liter bag of Goon will get two to three people very shitfaced and I have seen people using the half-full goon bags as pillows. The hostel wasn’t very quiet, let’s say, but it was fun and I could easily have stayed there a while. The only problem was that there weren’t too many good-looking chicks around. There were two (English) twin sisters who had reasonable bodies and could pass the boner test but they had very such bad habits, like getting wasted beyond belief, falling down all the time and once even drunkenly eating everything they could get their hands on, even food that had been lying on the floor for a while. The thought of kissing a girl like that disgusted me.

By
this time I was doing some preparations for my blog and it was at this point that I starting translating my Dutch stories to English ones. Of course the Dutch blog was written for family and friends so I couldn’t write everything down. This made translating difficult and I had to dig deep in my mind to remember all the details. Luckily I have an excellent long-term memory.