Addicted to jumping photos

The statistics

I am back in Serbia for a few days as I pass through on my journey.

Days Travelled: 57

Lowest Temperature: -5 Celsius (Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina) 

Injuries:

•  Bruised foot from tripping on uneven stairs

Countries Visited: 8

Cities Visited: 22

Postcards Written: 4

Time Spent in Transit: 91 hours

Variety of Beer Tasted: 21

Border Crossings: 14

Current Location: Belgrade, Serbia 

Number of Times I have Paid to do Laundry: 2

Hard Core Traveller Story: Someone cutting their hair off with a hunting knife in Spain. 

Help Ex Jobs: 2

View The Road Travelled in a larger map

I need to start working again, my supplies are running low. Most of my clothes are destroyed and I don't really have the money to restock at the moment. I decided to travel light this trip so I only have a small back pack and my laptop bag. (A hardcore traveller, I am not)

The contents of my bag include:

• Seven pairs of underwear
• Two bras
• Three pairs of socks
• Two long sleeved undershirts
• Two singlets
• Skinny leg jeans
• One pair of black tights
• Two t-shirts
• A high waisted skirt
• Four dresses 
• A cardigan
• Versatile Scarf. 

This may seem like a lot of clothes, but everything I own is silly and Australian - meaning it is very thin and offers little to no warmth. I am often wearing a third of my bag's contents at any given time.

What is damaged:

• The jeans have a hole in the crotch and the in seam is starting to split
• Both the bras and the skirt are too big (a fun side effect of constant travel)
• One dress has a whole in it
• The seam has come down on a dress
• My tight have lost their most crucial element, their tightness. The elastic is going.
• I got my scarf hooked on some barb wire climbing a fence. It as a manageable hole
• The seam on my back pack has split.

I just don't know what to do with myself. I am waiting in a coffee shop in Uzice, Serbia to do an interview with a woman in Poland. Fingers Crossed. 

More border misadventures.

I definitely think the best border crossing are the ones where you have to physically walk across the border. Crossing into Armenia from Georgia we had to walk from outside of the Georgian side right through and out to the Armenian side and the bus would meet us there. The Georgian side was easy, knowing a little of the language, they took our photo and sent us on our merry way. 

The trouble started when we got to the Armenian side, I was all ready giggly due to lack of sleep and spending time with one of the funniest people I know. The people in front of us had to of been part of some bearded men's society. The all had long, long beards and more than one was a fiery shade of red. They were not Georgians and seemed like an odd group of people to choose to travel there. 

My turn at the booth I made chit chat with the man, just basic things, he was smiling and everything was going great. My friend walked up behind me in the line and that was when I noticed this guy had sauce on his face. Not a little bit. Like a least a teaspoon of tomato sauce smeared on his face. How could no one have told him? I turned around and tried to tell my friend about it, I couldn't hold it back any more and I started to laugh. My friend sternly told me that this is not the place to get the giggles. An Armenian border guard was directly behind me with an automatic weapon. I turned back to the guard, who began to giggle with me, thinking we must have shared some sort of joke. He stamped me through and wished me a pleasant stay.

My friend later told me that the stamping guard was still smiling when he got to the window, so my friend thought it acceptable to smile also. The border guard instantly went from happy, smiling to stone cold.