"...and then I smashed it on the floor!"

For the last two nights, we have been visited by the Spirit of Travel, personified. His name was Steven, his accent was Californian, and he was full of stories and wine. He wore a train driver's hat, and a large brown jacket over a blue fleece. He wore pants also, but those I did not observe, for I was distracted by his feet, socks inside surf-sandals. He also sported a bright orange silk scarf around his neck, and a moustache. He was an older gentleman, and was in contravention of the hostel's age limit, yet nonetheless was being allowed to stay. Thankfully, not in our rooms.

In any case, he ambushed us in the lounge and regaled us with stories of his life of travel, and quizzed us philosophically about what we wanted to get out of our trip. He told fantastic stories of people, places, arrests and deportations. He gave us extensive advice on where to travel, and what we were to do. I was to sketch, and James was to write. The conversation spanned hours before we could escape. All the while he continued to drink his bottle of Jacob's Creek, and take periodic smoking breaks. If I were to recite the detail you would be amazed, but much of it flees my mind. Here is a small sample into our experience: “You gotta know what you want from it all. Do you want to find the truth? Inspiration? Or fantastic blondes?” *pauses to nod and stare meaningfully at his audience* “For me it's all about primary colors, you know?”

We didn't know. But we nodded nonetheless.

It was after midnight when we finally made our escape, as he descended into further incoherence, with the odd bout of Bollywood dancing. To be fair, the Pussycat Dolls on the large flatscreen were encouraging him.

The next day we laughed and reminisced about such a bizarre encounter, and with relief relegated him to an amusing travel memory. Alas, we were beset the next eve, when he tracked us down in a different location. It seemed he had not yet departed for Paris. This night, he was less wobbly to begin with, but whilst rolling a suspicious looking cigarette and sipping on a Stella, over the night he did descend to an almost incoherent state. He had met a friend of his, a fashion photographer, whom he had told us of the night prior. He had (apparently) visited this friend and his friend's father, and cooked them both dinner. After an incredibly detailed recounting of the dinner – which sounded both complex and delicious – he told us of the dessert.

I quote: “So for dessert, I took this very, very expensive block of pure, organic chocolate out of the freezer, and I threw it down and SMASHED it on the floor, unwrapped it and served the pieces with (insert fancy liquor here, for I cannot remember the specifics).” The 'smashing' was accompanied with enthusiastic mime, and shall no doubt be parodied at length throughout this trip. During the course of conversation, we discovered our globetrotting friend had worked for Boy George, and had met George Michael (whom he informed us was, in fact, gay) as well as Prince, entourage and all. He lamented that although he had tried to take a gift to Boy George in prison, the new management had not recognised his name, and thus he was not allowed to deliver the gift.

The evening pretty much concluded with an invitation being issued to us, to his birthday celebrations. It was to be held as an e-birthday this year, given his travelling. We were to get on facebook, and post a picture of each of us dressed in yellow, which was the theme color for the year. Apparently he had, for 30 years, been celebrating his birthday by dancing around a Maypole, at a color themed party. There was some discomfort when eccentricity crossed into creepiness, as he suggested that perhaps the female members of the party could, if they liked, wear a yellow bikini, and that would be fine as a yellow costume. After this, we took our leave, one by one, and we can confirm that Steven has indeed departed for Paris.

So thankyou Steven, for your advice, your Philosophy, and the abundant mirth that recounting our time with you will bring us as we journey.