So, by formulating this above information it could be said that I am the least likely person to go and see a sex show. However, I was fragile state at the time (drunk/hungover) and I was probably peer pressured by the cool man who wears a tux and has a monocle inside my head that tells me YES ALI! YES. (more on him another time) for the moment. Sex. Show.

The lineup announced Lesbians, couples, threesomes, strippers and a banana show. Whats not to love? I didn't love being squirted by a novelty sex elephant as I entered thats for sure.

10 minutes in, I found myself clapping like a toy monkey with symbols. A smile beamed across the whole of my face. I was entranced. The show was amazing, the performers were similar to acrobats, the strength required for some moves! The sexers (?) were tanned and fit and toned and attractive. Desensitisation kicked in and it was just like watching any other show. Anal-beads were a particular feature of the performance. The world of SEX was opening up before my eyes. Mental image there, apologies.

My pornographic wonder abruptly ceased to a holt by the last act. A man and woman pair came out on a revolving bed. They adorned S&M attire, with the man in a full black, leather mask with silver spikes. The woman lay, her head hanging over the bed - drugged to her eyeballs, while the man penetrated her violently. I cut the show short and headed to the entrance.

So we found a nice enough hostel and booked for one night only. Maybe there was a better option? maybe something cheaper? with a kitchen? Who knows? We booked one night.

After a few rounds of 10 Jäger shots for 10 euros, making out with Gina a hot chiccy babe from Sydney it was morning and I was being rudely awoken by clapping of rubbish bin lids in my ears. The rubbish bin lids were not lids at all but merely hands of a stout and brussely lady ordering me to 'GET UP!' One more night, one more night I yelled. Nope, get up, get out. Beds were booked, people are here. Oh jesus, I thought, where the fuck are you? and I put on my bag and headed into the streets.

Fragile, like a dream we stumbled around 'A-Dam' in search of somewhere to rest our weary heads. With everywhere booked we slapped down the cash. 100 euro each for the night for a tiny apartment with bong-stained walls. What an error. Oh my head.

My first experience with the MINUS was in Prague. A city so beautiful, I wish I could have seen it if it wasn't so cold I was forced indoors for majority of the daylight hours. Headed out on a city tour I wrapped up in literally all of the clothes I had with me. In a word, fuck. Seemingly, Australian jackets are made of paper and did you know wind can pierce into your skin and actually freeze your blood? I found out that fateful day in Prague. At one point I excused myself to the bathroom and put my sisters woollen mittens on my feet. It didn't improve the stakes much.  Headed out on the town I had Vodka as my blanket, but such a dishevelled sight was I with vanity out the door and in with SURVIVAL.  SO, how does one get snapped up for street style and maintain blood in liquid form.

1. Focus on heat retention - you loose 40% body heat out of your head. Wear a beanie, maybe even two? + a good pair of woollen socks! 2. Materials - Make sure you're packin' wool. Alpaca, lama, sheep, angora (check animal cruelty rights with that one) The better the cloth the less you need.  3. Hair - for men, stop shaving, you have a free blanket on your face!  - for lassies, grow your hair and use it as a scarf, i was able to this winter and it was a blessing and I also felt like a wizard.  - for both, legs and whatever else, use your nat-u-ralle fibres to heat your soul (I didn't mention anything about looking good naked)  4. Oh ya lined boots baby! - get yourself GOOD shoes with a lining. Vintage markets sell them by the boot load and they are tres chic

Lured to Dresden by its stunning post WWII architectural recovery and quaint charms of cobblestone streets we were brimming with excitement as we checked into our hostel. Drezzy was indeed a delight to the eyes, but moments after putting our bags down we were told to leave and informed of the specifics of the day.

On the 13th February around 6,000 Neo-Nazis invaded the town to disturb the peace and wave their flags high. Shutters are locked, residents of the town remain indoors, while the protesters cause havoc throughout the streets. Come morning, windows need replacing, houses need repainting, graffiti needed scrubbing and of course injuries needed tending. This significant number of Neo-Nazis in modern society seems startling to the common tourist or expatriate and it was shocking to realise the presence and force of such a group.

However, it must be known that on top of the 6,000 pro Nazi, over 25,000 anti-nazi (normal human beings) congregate to the town as a reaction to the radicals. And although this brings with it a sigh of relief for my faith in humanity it also has a detrimental effect on things, notably the town of Dresden.

The damage done to the towns infer structure and community is significant. When there I posed the question of the significance of the date and Dresden. The 13/2nd marks the anniversary of when Dresden was bombed by Allied Forces at the end of WWII in 1945. Also, compared to other places where similar demonstrations have sprouted, Dresden's resistance to such forces is quite weak. It is only in the last 3 years that protesters against have been able to prevent the march from taking place.

When I was there in 2011 - I missed the riots by a whisker. Boarding the train outbound we found the station littered with Police + riot shields ready for the action. We were happy to sit this one out.

It was in Prague 2011 - that I met Richard.  Richard who is from Maryland USA.  He has a long face and long blonde ponytail.  He wears a old leather jacket and is about 30 years old. The first thing Richard did upon meeting me was show me his ID..? and proceed to tell me 'I'm not racist…but.' As with anytime, ever, anyone has, ever said the above sentence, what comes next is in a word, racist.  Richard didn't believe that "cultures should mix." Later we found out that Richard, who was nocturnal, lived in this hostel for 3 months of every year.  Now to most living in a hostel seems like the last place a person who doesn't believe in the mixing of any cultures, ever, should choose to live.  I probed for more, why do you live here? What do you do? Are you an alien? Richards routine consists of sleeping through out the day and then waking up at 6pm, announcing "good morning!" to anyone at all and hitting the local strip clubs. Richard says "its all very tasteful, there's no pussies in your face." One morning he open our hostel dorm at 8am and fell directly on his face on the floor - he didn't move for 5 hours.  For Richard the allure of the strip clubs of Prauge was enough to overthrow his distain for interracial interaction. I did not mention that the girls with their breasts etc, were in fact not from Maryland USA. Oh Richard.  He did lend me some Head & Shoulders shampoo and hair elastics which is nice.

 - After long journey out into the suburbs and a eerie walk through the woods we came across thick linked fences surrounding the fabeled building "Teufelsburg." After scaling the perimeter several times we located our part of the fence to rip up and creep into this madness. Another fence surrounds another fence, a fence within a fence! A fence labyrinth we are in! But IN we are and there is no going back!  Climbing to the top was the next challenge and to do so without being seen.. At the top we climbed a derelict stairwell with scattered needles on the floor. Once at the top the tattered and ripped curtains that cloaked the building flapped and banged a menacing sound in the air. The freezing wind whipped at your cheeks and the fear you are able to instil inside yourself is a wonderful thing. -

Alas, Teufelsburg is now run as a tourist attraction and is open to the public. So like all things great and wonderful you must be on it like hotcakes my friends. Trespassing in Berlin is still a tre cool thing to do. If you are hip, like I know you are, you will too want to get your Bonnie & Clyde on and wreak some havoc! The secret is in the secret I'm afraid. Ask around, talk to some hip kids on the street and find yourself the next adventure.

Being my first time back to London since the ripe age of 16, I had no idea where I was, what Shoreditch was, where it was, who I was or what the hell I was doing. Inebriation was an understatement of the condition I was in, so as one does when one is in such a state, I went to the kebab shop. Soaking up alcohol is a kebabs number one role in this life. I purchased a kebab and something else delicious totalling pounds - equivalent to $20 Australian dollars and I resumed my post on my bus stop to plan my next move. Torn between fixing my situation or eating my tasty treat, I open the polystyrene box of wonder and put my phone to my ear and began calling someone, anyone at all.

Next thing you know, I am greeted with a Club Mate to my lips and am told to perk up. Club Mate, pronounced Club Mar-tay for those Australians out there, is a ice-tea drink with a natural boost of N-R-G that after 2 makes you feel like ahhmen don’t mind if I do! if you get my drift – not to mention a little tip out tip in some vodka concoction and the night is young and you are the night.