I'm back ...

"When it's over, that's the time I'll fall in love again." The dulcet tones of Sugar Ray could never ring more true.

There was no red carpet for the return of JB to Melbourne this morning, just Momma and Poppa Blog who were happy to see their son after five months travelling abroad. K-Beezer has just dropped around and it was awesome to see the glowing bride to be. It is great to be back - the weather is beautiful and there's a BBQ and some beers planned with the extended family tonight.

Sorry for the delays here at Blog Central but it's been very hectic over the past 10 days or so. At last glance, I was getting ready to fly to San Francisco to meet up with Cousin Slugg. So what happened then? We'll we hit the road in a flash little yellow Chevy (pictured here) and covered the states of California, Nevada and Arizona, travelling more than 1500 miles. You'll have to stay tuned for an extended play-by-play when I get some energy (and a bit of spare time) over the coming few days.

But I hear you ask: "Does the end of this trip mean the end of the blog as we know it?" I hope not. Obviously, the content isn't going to be as exciting or as glamourous (or as refreshing as, say a can of Lipton Brisk Lemon Ice Tea in Santa Barbara) as the last five months have been, but I'll sure try. With your assistance, we'll have many more adventures which will be posted on this here blog.

The time is near ...

OK, a short post. It's 12.38pm in the Pacific Northwest and I'm getting ready to go to the airport with Rivjuando and Soule Sista, both of whom I'm about to lavish with gifts because, in short, they're such good people. The task of packing my bags is complete and I'm going to adopt a wait-and-see approach when I arrive at Portland International later this afternoon for a flight to San Francisco. Luckily, I have big shoulders and Cousin Slugg to meet me there.

The last few days in and around Portland have been very fruitful. I've caught up with old friends like G.I. Vic. I also renewed acquaintances with LZ from my old school and some of the guys from the Rotary Club that hosted me for my youth exchange all those years ago. I also met some cool new people, including the Polish Gypsy of Corvallis. I christened him the Beaver Brewer because he lives near Oregon State University and, like me, he prefers to make his own beer. His chronicles are highly recommended - you must trust me on that. I wanted to link his blog to my site a little bit earlier, but considering the section is called "I Like These People (And Their Blogs)", such moves may have been premature. And a shout out to Yvonne from Victoria who is putting the finishing touches to her London blog. I'm still waiting for your address, however - there's no point publicising you have a blog if you don't have an address! Maybe you're just shy? But thanks for saying I inspired you to "being able to ramble on". I tend to do a bit of that.

Blacking out the friction (and clearing up the confusion) ...

What a concert! I just wanted to post my preliminary thoughts on one of the most versatile acts in the music world today. The concert at the Crystal Ballroom provided me with a semi-flashback from the last time I was there in late 2002. I went with Rivjuando, Soule Sista, Clintorious and G.I. Charley to see Everclear play a hometown show. Anyway, I was in Rivj's car on the way back to his place with DCFC's "The Photo Album" playing in the background. It became the soundtrack to my trip and I knew then that this band would be one of my favourites and would go on to bigger and better things. Hopefully moving from an independent label won't change these digable dudes from Seattle, although it was announced at the show that lead guitarist Chris Walla bought a house in Portland. Who can blame the guy? Especially when the place is having extraordinary weather at the moment. Not a cloud in the sky.

I got an e-mail from Yvonne from Victoria today (now residing in London) and she's resenting the bad weather in that big city. For her, I wanted to clear up the fact that I wasn't referring to myself as a guy who "has the ladies on a stick with his charm and good looks" in an earlier blog posting. I was actually speaking about KL but the compliment was certainly noted!

And a big thank you to (Not So) Single Forever, who joined Rivjuando, Soule Sista and myself at last night's gig. She gave me a glowing review on her blog and I hoped that the mutual backslapping would continue. Beforehand, I got this photo with my gracious hosts at an equally gracious location known as Scooter's in Portland. I've had many good times both with them and at Scooter's.

All good things, have endings ...

That was a line from a song by The Get Up Kids, if I remember correctly. I use it to reflect on the past fortnight I've spent in Portland. A picturesque city full of good people. So what have I been doing in P-Town since getting here? Well, I've been catching up with some of those good people I was talking about and I've also enjoyed following the Baby Blazers. I even saw them beat Atlanta from the comfort of a corporate suite with Rivjuando and several local and imported beers earlier this month. I would like to show you the photos, but Rivjuando has them on his computer, which decided to self-destruct over the weekend.

Anyway, thanks for the continued support from the Blog Army, both here and abroad, in recent days. Steel from back in G-Town (code for Geelong) wrote: "I checked your website other day, looks like some serious fun you been havin' ... all's well in Geelong, not much changed anyway."

Big time basketball and blog fan, The Real K-Lenko - who also hails from Sleepy Hollow - lamented the lack of "personal contact". Don't worry, this likeable lad is straighter than a cricket bat and has the ladies on a stick with his charm and good looks. To paraphrase the legendary ESPN icon Dan Patrick, the ladies can't stop him, they can only hope to contain him.

He (not Dan Patrick, but KL) said: "I've been checking the blog religiously ... After reading your Contiki tour highlights it felt like I was there again mate. Everything that you noted is exactly what I did!! But it sounds as though you had a great trip and I think it's a pretty good way of seeing the main sights in Europe easily and relatively cheaply." Another ambassador for Contiki, although I stress the blog is not a promotional vehicle (Captain Morgan Spiced Rum excluded).

Geezer, he with the swizzy coat last seen in London, wanted to check out JB HQ but needed assistance. "Squire! What's your blog address again? I've mislaid the address and wanted to look up the latest adventures of JB." Needless to say, I pointed him in the right direction.

I told The Real K-Lenko that I've been kicking it here in P-Town, but alas, it's time to go soon and on Saturday I'll be catching up with Cousin Slugg in San Francisco for a little over a week before jetting home and calling an end to this crazy excursion that's been going on (and on) for five months.

I touch down at Tulla on November 30 - I pushed the date out by around a week - but catching up with the self-proclaimed Slugger in San Fran will be the perfect conclusion. He was meant to travel around parts of Europe with me, but I found the Contiki tour and he was swamped with work. Like most good ideas, the thought of literally chillin' in Killer Cali was conceived at the local. As Slugg said today in an e-mail: "Honestly mate, (I'm) pretty relaxed about it all, just want to get out of London!" Who wouldn't at this time of year?

Last Friday, I caught up with Single Forever, who unfortunately gentlemen, is not single anymore. She's hooked up with a lovely bloke by the name of JT (although his initials are actually JS) and he went to the University of North Carolina so we talked a lot about college basketball on Friday as we watched the Blazer game at the pub before going back to Scooter's to catch up with some more old friends. Here's me with Brian from Alaska from last Friday night. You may remember him and Scooter's from an earlier post.

After a relaxing Saturday, Rivjuando took me to Multnomah Falls. It was good to see them during the day this time, even though the weather wasn't as good as it was in the summer. The photos are on Rivjuando's camera and, come to think of it, so are the ones from the Blazer game, so everything is A-OK.

Tomorrow, Rivjuando and Soule Sista, will be joining (Not So) Single Forever and yours truly for the Death Cab For Cutie concert at the Crystal Ballroom. It should be a blast, if their new and past work is anything to go by. It was a good idea by JB to purchase tickets on my first trip as the band has since sold-out not one, but two, shows. Scalpers are commanding $US50 - more than two times their value - for a spot to see and hear the finest sounds the Pacific Northwest has to offer.

The fourth and final quarter (days 13-16) - Hail to the bus driver ...

The wheels on the bus did go round and round and we travelled more than 5000 kilometres over the 16 days. Day 13 was probably one of our longest on the road, although we did stop at a perfume factory and later in Avignon, home of a really old castle. Later that night we stopped in Lyon, France's second largest city, although for us the visit was only fleeting. I did have a snail at dinner. It wasn't too bad, unlike some of the homeless people there who were just plain rude.

Day 14 and it was off to Paris, via Fountainebleau. I stood on the same balcony where Napoleon addressed his troops back in the day. But this tourist town will be remembered for JB innocuously chipping one of his lower front teeth before chowing down on a Nutella and banana crepe. It just made me want to say crepe.

So it was off to Paris for our final stop. Like Rome, we initially did a bus tour of this thriving metropolis before going to the Eiffel Tower. What a magnificent sight! The top part of the tower was closed when we got there around 9pm but later opened and I was able to get some great shots. I got caught up with the sights so much when I realised we only had about 10 minutes to get down the tower. The lifts were packed, so along with a couple of others from the Contiki crew, I briskly walked down the tower to get to the bus on time. I can laugh about it now, but it wasn't that funny then. It was the first time in a long time that I got some decent exercise.

The next day we were left to our own devices. For me, the day started with leaving the hotel at 8am and getting back there at midnight. We went to the Louvre and saw Mona Lisa. This museum is just too big to absorb in one day. Or a week for that matter. There is a weird statistic that if you spent a minute at each exhibit, it would take nine months to see the entire collection. Babies are conceived in the same time!

Then we went to Notre Dame, but the lines were too big, so Ag joined me for the walk up the Arc de Triomphe. It's amazing that there aren't more accidents at this supersized roundabout. It's seemingly a free-for-all for everyone concerned, 12 roads coming together with no lines. It makes for compelling viewing, like watching a train wreck.

I would climb the Arc again at night with Rose, one of the Contiki crew who, like me, decided against paying €130 like many of the others to see Moulin Rouge in favour of exploring this awesome city. I'll add some more pictures later if I can, but we walked down the Champs-Elysees and back to the Louvre and the inverted pyramid, which apparently has some significance if you read books by Dan Brown. I haven't.

Day 16 and it was hard to believe that a little more than two weeks earlier I was crossing the English Channel - with my favourite hat on my head. I also left Europe without my trusty Vans shoes. While they weren't the chick magnets I had hoped them to be, they made walking around many countries more comfortable and enjoyable. I may be a fashion victim, but I'm not a slave to fashion. To my beloved shoes I also say rest in peace.

We stopped at a Canadian World War I memorial (yes, in France) where there are still undetonated mines in the ground. Sheep have been known to walk across the fields before being blown to smithereens. Ouch!

But the weather and the mood was a gloomy. For many, it felt like the last day of school. I liken the whole Contiki experience to the television series Big Brother, not that I watch that crap. Bringing a group of people together from different backgrounds and with different ideals, not everyone is going to get along and be friends. You just hope that everyone has a good time, and unfortunately, there were a couple that didn't appear to be enjoying themselves. I felt sorry for them.

Back in London, I went to Cousin Slugg's to put a load of washing on and realised that it was Halloween by the stash of candy he had in the kitchen. Yum! A group of trick-or-treaters came around (yes, there was some candy left) before I went back into the city to meet some of the Contiki crew for the wake. Needless to say, a few beers were consumed and I even bumped into a girl that I did the Shamrocker tour of western Ireland with earlier that month. Like me, her encounter with Europe had just ended.

The third 'premiership' quarter (days 9-12) - Nice is nice ...

So day nine started in Rome, where we were taken on a guided tour of Vatican City. Parts of the tour may have been rushed, but the Contiki people were always good in ensuring that we missed the lines and got in-and-out of the major tourist attractions as quickly as possible. One could only imagine how crowded the Vatican was before and after the Pope's final days.

We went inside the Sistine Chapel and I'll be honest that I was so awestruck with everything inside that I totally missed the two index fingers touching. Quite unbelievable really. From there, we went to the Colloseum, which was so good that I gave it the two thumbs up in a pair of borrowed aviator glasses. At this point, I'll talk about the weather. It only rained twice in 16 days. The first time was from Germany to Switzerland and we were in the bus anyway. I told you it was an infamous trip. The second occasion was on our drive back from Paris to Calais. It also rained on the return ferry crossing, which meant no pictures from the deck of the ship, but considering what happened on my maiden voyage, this was probably a good thing.

On the way from Florence to Nice, we stopped at Pisa. We didn't walk up the famed leaning tower as we only had an hour, but as you can see, the funny photos are taken from the outside. Our tour manager was meant to give a prize to the person who had the best photo. I'm pretty sure I would have had a good shot at winning with this one, which took more than a couple of attempts to master. Apart from the tower, the city of Pisa is nasty and should be avoided. Luckily, we were off to France and the coastal city of Nice, on the French Riviera. God's country. Nice!

I had my biggest night on tour at a place called Wayne's, consuming multiple Green Splinters, a splendid concoction of Baileys and some green liqueur that tastes like an after-dinner mint. In the background, there was an awesome band playing everything from Foo Fighters to Counting Crows. The affable lead singer even played a Tenacious D track and I was joined near the stage by my mate Gareth, who delivered the chorus with as much vigour and gusto as me. When we were kicked out at closing time, we decided to go to Blue Whales. I reckon I'll never see it again, but there at 2am was another cover band, this time playing Led Zeppelin covers. The lead guitarist with the heaviest of heavy metal hair was belting out what seemed like a five-minute solo to "Whole Lotta Love". Unbelievable! A couple of hours later, the party was in full swing, but I decided to leave this fine establishment with Daws from West Sydney in search of some food. We may have been in different hemispheres but the kebab is still the late night weapon of choice on French shores. The kebab store vendor asked: "Are you guys Australian?" When we informed him that this was indeed the case, he loaded up that baby with more meat than an abattoir. It was superb! The late night (or early morning) lamb sandwich is an institution.

At 10am I decided to rise and make my way straight for the ocean. Stupid me didn't pack any shorts for the trip, so I decided to sit, sometimes aimlessly, by the water and take in the sights instead. The scenery was nice, save for the many elderly women who were topless. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that, or walking on stony beaches. In fact, going to Torquay will be one of the first things I do when I get home, which is now less than a month away. Down at the beach I bumped into Gareth and his girlfriend, Linda. The pair are now engaged after their Parisian proposal up the Eiffel Tower. We had Chinese and kicked it for a bit before going back to the hotel.

It was then off to the Monaco for a meal and to the casino, hardly a place for a broke and indebted traveller. You actually had to pay to get into one casino, which is pretty wrong. Sort of like paying to get into a nightclub, but worse. I had my photo taken down by the Formula 1 race track and admired the wealth that forced itself upon me at every turn. It would be nice to be rich. Who said rich people have problems? The person who said that was probably poorer (and less wiser) than me at the moment. After our little excursion, many made a return trip to Wayne's but I decided against it. Back-to-back nights - followed by numerous hours in a bus - are out of the question for me these days. I was also the coach and had to lead by example but I'm not sure how many of the young troops heeded the words of this experienced soldier.

The second quarter (days 5-8) - The world has ended, my camera's broke ...

Plagued with a runny nose and cold-like symptoms, day five was a struggle, but I managed to see a fair bit of Lucerne, located at the bottom of the Swiss Alps. Largely left to our own devices, I travelled around the lovely city with a young South Australian bloke, Shirls, who works for Port Adelaide Football Club and loves every type of sport. Before the Europe trip, he spent a week in New York and saw games of baseball, basketball, football and hockey in the Big Apple, so you can imagine what we talked about.

Swissco was on later that night and most people wore a fancy hat. I was a smart alec and wore a towel over my head. Unfortunately, I have very little photographic evidence as the flash on my camera broke on the journey from Germany to Switzerland. Understandably, like my flash (presumably) I was shattered. Hence the lack of many night shots. But to quote my sister, K-Beezer, if you get served lemons, you make lemonade and you need to build a bridge and get over it.

One of the highlights of my European trip was the scenery and on day six I woke up super early and took some beauties of the sunrise over the Swiss Alps. They are for my eyes only, but you can see this one here of me and the mountains in the background. From there, it was off to Liechtenstein, where there's not much to do in an hour, other than to get your passport stamped (they charge you for it) and to send some postcards back home. Then we went to Innsbruck, Austria, home of the building with the golden roof. Everyone was pretty tired from partying, including JB, who felt every bit of 27 years and 10 months over these 16 days. The grey hairs don't lie, as you will see in the next picture! Some of the young tykes gave me the endearing and hopefully respectful moniker, Coach.

This photo was taken in a gondola on the canals of Venice, which in my opinion is one of the most beautiful and romantic places to be in the world. We had a great time (albeit we only spent a day there - no way near long enough) and saw some historic and religious monuments, although I lucked out on getting an "authentic" Louis Vuitton handbag from one of the many dodgy street vendors. I don't think they would mind me calling them dodgy. The guy on the far right, Ag, had an interesting tour to say the least. His long list of indiscretions included having a Chris Mew on the infamous bus ride from Germany to Switzerland, which incurred him a €50 fine. He was also known to fall asleep in various nightclubs (I managed to take his wallet when he did). I shared a bottle of red wine with young Ag - who is older than me - on the gondola.

Bright and early on day eight, we made our way to Rome. We did a walking tour of the grand city and had our photos taken by the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps but the main sights (Vatican City and the Colloseum) would have to wait until the next day. Some of the Aussie lads with no shame seemingly couldn't hold on and decided to get almost naked like their Roman counterparts, posing for photos outside the Colloseum. It was then we realised we were exactly halfway through the trip. But there would be more sights and plenty more shenanigans.

The first quarter (days 1-4) - R.I.P. my favourite hat ...

So the tour got off to a fast start but it was a wonder that I got to the central London pick-up point at all. Can you believe that in a city as big as London (population 7 million) the trains don't start until just before 7am on a Sunday? With the ATM out of order and no taxi drivers taking a credit card, I managed to convince one cabbie to take a payment of Euro as I had converted all of my British pounds the day before. He was a good cab driver, unlike the one who took us home from Amsterdam later that night/early the next morning.

Along with Vanilla Ice and Prince Albert (the respective nicknames for our Contiki tour manager and driver), I was joined by almost 50 others on the bus to Dover, to begin our European Encounter with a short trip over the English Channel by ferry. The white cliffs must be seen to be believed. I was taking a few photos until a big gust of wind intervened and blew my Quiksilver cap straight off my head, seemingly for the deep blue. But with a leg-break that even Warnie would be proud of, the hat turned back onto the deck of the ship. Believe it or not, I was filming at the time and caught it all on tape. Ten minutes later, an announcement went over the public address system stating that a lost baseball hat had been found.

But alas, it wasn't my hat and despite the best efforts of the ship staff, I declared my hat lost on our arrival at the French port of Calais. My head will never be the same again. As a tribute, I post a picture of me and my hat with the cliffs as the perfect backdrop moments before his fatal plunge. Rest in peace.

After that moment of reflection, it was off to Amsterdam, via Belgium. We didn't see much of France or Belgium but saw more of Amsterdam that even the most perverted of minds could imagine. It was quite hilarious actually. But I'm aware of some of my readership (for example, my parents) and won't detail what happened, so I'll just make do with this phrase: what happens on tour stays on tour. That, plus the fact I have fifteen more days to write about. Ask me about it over a beer when I get back.

But Amsterdam is much more than sex, drugs and bad cab drivers. It has the Heineken brewery (which unfortunately was closed), Anne Frank's house and the Van Gogh Museum, both of which I visited on day two. Later that night, I joined the others for a 90-minute "booze cruise" around the city's canals and I consumed enough beer and cheese to get my €28 worth.

Day three we were back on the road to Germany via a stop at a cheese and clog factory outside Amsterdam. Hence the photo of me in a huge clog. Then we travelled to the little hamlet of St Goar, on Germany's Rhine River. The town is host to the biggest beer stein shop in the world, including a limited edition series that is made with parts of the Berlin Wall. I had my picture taken with the world's largest beer stein before getting on the amber fluid later that night. As a group, we also consumed around 500 shots of a German spirit, whose name temporarily escapes me. It was quite poor really, considering the Contiki record is around 1600.

Day four we drove to Switzerland to stay at Europe's highest hotel, 7000 feet above sea level on Mount Pilatus. Feeling sick and run-down, I decided to have a quiet night in, considering the infamous "Swissco" that was to be held the following night. Bad move. More people had fun drinking and sniffing tobacco with members of the Swiss Army on day three than at the disco. Apparently, the soldiers were taking a well-earned breather after a few months of strenuous training and some of them sold their gear to the Contiki crew. I didn't read about this in the itinerary, but a few travellers said it was the highlight of their trip. I wouldn't have known as I was in bed with a bad cold.

Damn this blog ...

After recovering from a slight case of jet lag, I had hoped to begin adding some pictures from my European trip, even at 2am here on the America's west coast. The best coast. But no such luck. Bummer. Let's hope it's only a temporary glitch, because I so want to share them with you all.

In other news, my friend Single Forever said on her blog that she's happy I'm back in the OR. Again, Rivjuando and Soule Sista are my gracious hosts here in Portland. Tonight we had pizza and pumpkin pie before Rivjuando and I went to Dante's to watch The Most Serene Republic. I hear you ask: "What, or rather, who are they?" Well, you have the Internet, don't you? Do your own damn research! Haha! But it was a good show.

The cold November rain ...

Was W.Axl Rose singing about Oregon at this time of year? True to form, it's pouring down here. Rivjuando, who is almost as well-known as yours truly on this blog, picked me up from Portland International Airport this evening after a whirlwind day of travel by planes, trains and automobiles. By the time I had touched down, more than 25 hours had elapsed since I left Cousin Slugg's apartment in London, adjacent to Ghetto Stonehenge. After saying goodbye - although we will be catching up in San Francisco later this month for his 26th birthday, the first without his twin brother - I caught a bus, a train and then another bus before flying to Chicago. If Heathrow isn't the world's largest airport, then Chicago's O'Hare would come close. From there, I caught three trains to Midway, the windy city's other airport. One train trip was with a homeless guy who wanted a smile, some travelling stories and, in the end, some cash. Unfortunately, I had $US1 and I doubt that British pounds would have helped this poor soul.

It would have been nice to reaquaint myself with Chi-Town after having a great time there a couple of months ago, but I was overwhelmed with all the gear I carried around. Three backpacks and a couple of shopping bags full to the brim. Who said I was a hoarder?

Anyway, now that I'm back, I'll try over the next week or so to give a post-game summary of my last three weeks, which included an awesome 16-day tour of Europe. I'm not sure how I'll go about it but the readers who are left (including Paul Robinson from the esteemed broadsheet - not to be confused with the slimy, evil fraudster with the same name on Neighbours) will be in for a treat.

Keep your eyes on the prize!