WAKE UPPPPPPP!!!!!

Nothing says travelling to me more than the russell of a plastic bag and the zipping of a zip.
You might know this story?
It's 6 am in the morning and you hear that fantastic alarm you didn't set- the brisk movement of panicked plastic,
the smell hits you- 10 conjoined stale beer breaths, maybe a redwine one thrown into the mix
it's that wonderful reminder that you're surrounded by 9 snoring, coughing, unkempt backpackers that make more noise in the morning than a group of megaphone wielding roosters.
As you click your mouth back fluid the sound of the bags gets stronger. What the hell is in these small crisp packets? And how many are there, or is it just a weird vortex of echoing at that time of the morning that makes it sound like there are a hundred and fifty crinkled costume covers?
There are definitely a myriad of different types, thick almost thunder sounding ones, thin ones that sound like someone bought cellophane and has decided to wrap and order their laundry into colours of the rainbow depending on cleanliness and the all important snap lock ones, slowly trying to squeeze out the last bit of air, as someone rolls over in a half silent protest to the racket.
Oblivious to the situation the zips begin,
DJ Backpacker lets leash to a fired up crowd of 9,
mixing up a storm with samples from
'Clips' and 'Pulling Straps'
the audience is silent in awe.
One brave member lets out an, over the top almost stage like cough, to alert the musical genius of their consciousness.
No change, the creative artist is so entranced by their own brilliance they continue till the last zip and clip.
Confidently the DJ stomps an encore, checking the room for anything they've left behind, and finishes with a bang, of the door closing behind them.
Silence falls again,
short lived,
as the harmonious sound of 8 snorers slowly comes back, to make sure you never have to sleep again...

So thanks plastic bags!
Without you I wouldn't be able to
keep my soap away from my toothbrush,
my dirty socks away from my clean ones or
pull a crowd for my melodious talent.

Scooters- Italy

Scooters... Ah Scooters, I grew fond of scooters after I was house sitting for a friend of mine and was given the opportunity to use his car, shortly after the first drive I blew one of the hoses and the car was no longer an option. He had a scooter, I used it to travel an hour in the winter to and from work, raining and dark. They're a lot of fun and are constantly on 'Full-Tit' mode, even with head down, tail winds and down hill they reach a max of 60kmph. You look like an idiot driving them in Australia or NZ.
But in Italy, wow, only the coolest of cool kids drive, and when I say drive man can they drive them! I've seen:
Wheelings and dealings,
Overtaking buses on hairpin blind corners (practically 1 lane anyway)
I've seen ones with two wheels on the front,
Ones with a small cab and a ute flat deck on the back (I like to call them a Scooter+ute = Scute) which has one wheel at the front and two at the back to hold up the deck
I've been on one with two other people holding onto the plastic at the back bouncing on cobble stone streets to a pizzaria
I've seen families of four on them, kid stands in the front dad holds onto kid and steers, mum's on the back holding onto second kid in front of her.
I've seen the second person on the scooter reading a full sized news paper
I've seen the second person on the scooter holding on to a baby
I've seen the first person holding a frappè and smoking
No one wears helmets
Everyone toots and raises arms at each other

But my hat is tipped, whenever I see them outside a cafè leaning up against their vespas with a cigarette hanging out their mouth.
They deserve it, they may not live till they're 30 but their antics and skill on a 50cc beast is amazing to all that are able to catch a glimpse of them fly by