Paris was now a distant thought. In a mere matter of hours I was back with those fun filled Danes in London. Crazy, Yes. I would have to say though, acting on this drunken epiphany felt right. Call it intuition or just plain stupidity, but I had a gut feeling I was doing the right thing. We picked up exactly where we had left off like I had never left. After reuniting with my Nordic comrades I did not give much thought about what I had done, left behind, or where I was going. Any plans or goals where no longer valid. My compulsiveness, udder disregard for my economical safety net, and future plans, although irresponsible, would soon be rewarded.

 I spent what was left of the month with the group and with Jello. It became apparent during our time together that the girl named after the tasty gelatinous dessert was worth coming back for. We had an amazing time together once again. Every day was full of new adventures and experiences. Day after day, night after night, the party never ended.What developed was a strong connection I was not ready to say good bye to. Unfortunately as they say, "all good things must come to end." As time went by it was soon the group and Jello's last day in England. I told the group about a punk music festival I was going to called "Rebellion Festival" in England. I was hoping they could join me at the festivities. Regrettably everyone was broke after there vacation and the weary travelers where ready to return to Denmark. I escorted my new friends and crush to the airport. As they boarded there plane I handed Jello a folded piece of paper I had scribbled my feelings on. Once it was in her hands I simply turned around and walked away.

After leaving the airport on the train back to London it hit me like a sack of door knobs. My eyes swelled up and it was not long before they began overflowing with stupid, embarrassing, tears. I immediately covered them with some fashionable Zebra print sun glasses I had purchased earlier in the week. I could not help but feel terrible. After a year in Saudi Arabia and now my life as a nomadic backpacking gypsy, these where the first friends I had made. This was also the first girl I had felt so strongly about in years. I was miserable that day but thankfully it did not last for long.

 I threw away an all expenses paid trip to Paris but what I would soon gain in return was invaluable. The girl I came back for had just sent me a message, she had decided to join me at rebellion festival and would be flying back to England in a matter of days.

FORLORN IN FRANCE:

There my buttocks remained firmly planted onto the bar stool, carving away its own impression in the wood. My backside and the stool soon became conjoined twins as I looked for answers at the bottom of a pint glass. Beer after beer, thought after thought, my mind raced with a magnitude of feelings and scenario's. With every empty pint glass that slammed onto the bar everything became more and more clouded.
I was at the infamous "3 ducks hostel" just minutes from the Eiffel tower. I had only spent 1 night there so far and slept terrible. I was overwhelmed with melancholy which broadcast itself to the world in my drunken eyes. I was facing quite a dilemma at the moment. Although no one could see it an epic battle was underway.

My wallet and common sense sat on one shoulder with a halo above its head. It was preaching non sense like "You have only known these people and that girl for less than a month" and of course "you already paid a lot of money for an entire week in Paris including transportation, lodging, and international travel"
Meanwhile as my inebriation became more and more apparent the opposite shoulder was home to risk taking and a beautiful Danish girl donned with a pitch fork and tail. Thanks to the ethanol alcohol level steadily pulsating through my veins, this shoulder soon became the triumphant one.

During this time I reminisced of many things in my past and recalled a squad leader I had in the Army. He was an airborne ranger and made me "squad leader for a day" so I could learn what it was like. That day my company was conducting a large simulated urban training exercise (better known as MOUT in the military) As part of the exercise we all wore lazer sensitive vest and each time we shot a round from our rifle, a harmless lazer was sent towards our target instead of a real bullet.

Upon entering a house that my squad was searching we began taking fire. I stood there dumb founded, unsure of who I should order to what location and what the best way to eliminate the enemy force was. I hesitated and wasted precious seconds thinking before finally barking orders for the rest of my squad to follow. As a result of my delay we lost some men in the simulation. After the simulation was over that wise old ranger gave me some advise I still remember and follow to this day. "A decision, even a bad decision, is better than no decision at all."

 Many hours and a whirlwind of thoughts went by at that bar in 3 ducks hostel until I worked up enough courage to send a message to that Danish girl. I asked if she would think I was crazy if I boarded the next Euro Star train back to London, even if it was my last time to see her and the others and if only for a few days. My eyes lit up when I saw her reply. Needless to say moments later I bid a farewell to Paree. I was on my way back to London. It had costed me thousands of dollars and a trip to Paris but for some reason I could not wipe that disgusting shit eating grin off my face, no matter how hard I tried.

To be continued.........

The first of many crazy and unpredictable twist to this story.

After making the acquaintance of the 6 Danes what ensued was many drunken adventures together.We spent almost every day with one another. I even ended up moving into the same hostel as the group. It felt good to be inter graded back into an environment familiar to me. It is however quite humorous that in London it would take a group of Danish people to accomplish this. I had not had this much fun in a long time! Day after day, night after night, for most of July we merrily gallivanted every pub, show, park, store, and diner in Camden along with what felt like the rest of London. I really fell in love with the whole group and had such a good time with all of them!

I began to especially bond with one of the girls in the group who simply went by "Jello." Al though the name she went by was particularly strange, I never asked questions regarding it. Jello and I had a lot to talk about and would often find our own adventures when the rest of the group was to tired or not interested in going out. We shared a strong interest in the same unique sub culture and hobby's. One day we even made the crazy decision to get tattoo's together on the inside of our bottom lip. It was certain after this point I would never forget Jello,the Danes, or my time in London, even if I wanted to!

I started to realize as time went on that I was really beginning to develop feelings for this Jello girl. There was about a million reasons not to. We had only known each other for less than a month, we where from 2 different country's on opposite sides of the earth, I was 10 years older than her, and a million other reasons. I needed to just forget about this girl and try to ignore what I was feeling. I did my best to do so and move on. Regretfully I knew there was no chance in hell this would or could work. I had to leave her behind and forget about those silly feelings I was secretly harboring.

In late July I said farewell to the outgoing group and Jello as I left for Paris. I had planned this trip out months ago and had already booked a week in a Paris. My train tickets and hostel where already paid for. We spent our last few hours together in Camden outside enjoying the weather. As I turned my back to them and walked towards that train station, I felt an emptiness and the return of a void that had recently been filled. The doors to the euro star train closed and hours later I was in Paris France. I backpacked my way to the hostel and checked in. I went site seeing and to the Eiffel tower my first day. However every hour that I was there felt more and more like a mistake. All I could think about was the group of friends I had made back in London and the girl I had met. I slept terrible that night and spent the entire next day in the bar. That is when I made the first of many intoxicated unpredictable and wild decisions that would shape this story and my life to date....
To be continued.

The pitter patter of my new quasi doctor martin steel toe boots echoed down the street.  I had been back packing London by myself for a couple of weeks by now. My travels had led me to stroll into a bar called "The elephants head," located in the infamous area known as Camden Town. This neighborhood was once an abundant source of punk rockers,tattoo artist, and other interesting eclectic individuals. However over the years  it had been having an identity crisis. The colorful neighborhood had now also became a mecca for tourist and douche bags. To me however its  unique alternative roots still could be seen among the many annoying people and commercialized store fronts.

The Elephants head bar was in the center of it all. It was often full of like minded people who seem to enjoy the same genre's of music as myself. I sat there alone one afternoon in the corner charging my cell phone "forever alone"as some might say.

I had been living in another dimension (Saudi Arabia) and was still adapting back into the western world again. As I sat there admiring the battery bar indicator slowly making progress on my Nokia, they walked in.  We might as well have been from 2 parallel universes them and I. The Danes walked, talked, and dressed like the friends I remembered from the USA but with subtle differences. 2 of them made there way to the jukebox which just happened to be next to where I was seated. I had consumed several pints of "Liquid courage" with a shot of "Social butterfly" by now. "Ok "forever alone boy, its now or never" I thought to myself. As the unsuspecting Danes analyzed the contents of the jukebox the duo had no idea they had just walked into an ambush. I knew I had to make my move... Striking hard and fast like a cobra, my mouth slowly opened and the words "Here's 2 pounds, can you please play something that does not suck" bellowed from my lips. I preceded to complete my trap by presenting my hand to them with the coins.

My devious plan had worked and soon there Scandinavian comrades joined us by my table to investigate. It was not more than 5 minutes before we where deep in conversation, yelling obscenity's, pounding pints of lager, and laughing like we had known each other for years. They where all fantastic company but one of them was particularly captivating to me. Little did I know she would later become my girlfriend and change my life in every way possible.

To be continued....

I suppose I need to tell you about the past before we talk much more about the present. I believe we last left off 10 months ago. I sat comfortably in a coffee shop in London eloquently butchering the English language to complete my previous blog, "Mike rocks Saudi." In my last and final entry I mentioned things like taking some time off, preparing for my next Paramedic adventure somewhere in the world, and taking some university classes, particularly in writing. Well I am pleased to tell you that I have accomplished and am accomplishing all of those goals. I sat there in one of Camden's finest coffee shops wafting in the pungent aroma of free trade Arabia beans. Writing, reflecting, day in, day out, completing my previous blog. I reflected, and oh did I reminisce my friends.


 During my paramedic service in Saudi Arabia at the busiest ALS station, in the busiest city in the country, something strange happened to me. I had worked in Emergency Medical Services for years prior and even spent time in the military before that. In all that time I had never been exposed to the kind of shit I had been subjected to on my paramedic assignment in Saudi Arabia. 
At this time in London professionally and personally, I was confused,used, and abused. A year in Saudi Arabia under Sharia law is hard enough. In addition the working conditions I was subjected to was unlike anything a EMS worker in the EU or USA would be exposed to. Take Sharia law and now add severe sleep deprivation, a plethora of the dead and the dying everyday, risking my life on a routine basis, being assaulted routinely, physically fighting patients and bystanders with out police backup, staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, being in 3 ambulance crashes, and much more. 


Mix the combination I described above and you have the ingredients to one hell of a crazy mental cocktail. Watching more people die before my eyes in 1 year than I had my entire career prior and more than most paramedics would see in 5 or even 10 years. Although in all honestly I can say it was equally difficult just living in Saudi Arabia. Even outside of work I began to think about my own life and just how precious and uncertain its outcome was. I needed to forget about work, and remember who I was as a person.  It all had taken a toll and I needed a break, I needed to relax, I needed London. As I wrote " We could do our jobs flawlessly like robots, but at what cost? What about our empathy and caring.... Had we lost some of it or all of it along the way? " I did not know anymore and I did not know myself anymore. 


Luckily thoughts like the above slowly began to fade away . They where soon replaced with intoxicated moments in Merry ol London.  I could have went anywhere in the world, why London you ask? I am not exactly sure. Whats interesting is with out London this blog, Denmark, my job, and current personal life would not exist. Those who are foolish enough to believe in god might call it "divine intervention" others who are gullible might call it fate, still others would call it simply coincidence. Call it what you wish but it was in London 10 months from today that my life took a drastic and unpredictable change. All after i happened to cross paths with some punks from Denmark. Who also just so happened to be vacationing in London.


To Be continued....

INTRODUCTION: First off I would like to thank those of you who followed my last blog "Mike rock's Saudi". http://mikerockssaudi.blogspot.com/ As of today I have almost 12,000 hits on it from all around the world. Its been 10 months since I last blogged. I have been dying to start a new blog for some time now but was not sure what to write about, until now....
Please bare with me the next couple of weeks. This is a true "work in progress." Book mark and stay tuned for more information.
PS: I promise to have new and improved grammar and punctuation.