Travel Writing At Home

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Travel guides – fact or fiction? I once tried to check into a Greek hotel recommended by my travel guide as a “low-cost yet atmospheric guesthouse”. The fact that it was demolished in 1986 apparently didn’t detract from its charm. A writer for Lonely Planet has now admitted that he didn’t actually visit the country he wrote about. Travel writing from home can’t be that difficult. For instance I’ve never been to Norway, but I’m sure I can get the gist of the place if I have a look on Google Earth…

 

Welcome to Norway - A Crime Watch Community

Tiggy’s Lowly Plannit Guide to Norway

All About Norway
The name Norway derives from the Old Norse word Noreeg, which means Norway. Around 4000 Norwegians live there, all of whom are redheads (apart from an African gentleman called Derek). Norway’s topography is several hundred years old and consists of snow, rocks, grass and sky. Indigenous wildlife includes hamsters, penguins, unicorns and Norway’s national symbol, the Gummiwormig, or fruity tree grub.

Interesting Facts About Norway
Norway is a land of lakes and the ground is permanently under 1ft of water. Rubber boots should be worn at all times. Dress like a local and buy a pair of dentalvlossing, traditional waterproof socks made from woven grass and hamsters.

Norway’s capital city is Oslo, which despite being waterlogged has more outdoor cafes than any city in the world. In fact, all cafes and shops are outside due to an 1857 law banning the indoors. Unfortunately alcohol is also banned in Norway, so ask the waiter for a glass of Longsnot, a traditional brew of honey, grass and hamsters.

Mmmm, fresh snaeshite cake!

Things To Do In Oslo
Take a stroll down Oslo’s main street, Mainstreetoslo St, and pop into (or rather out to) one of the numerous local bakeries. Try a snaeshite, a traditional cake made from snow, grass and unicorn tears. Delicious.

Stay at the popular budget hotel Greasibrotelflop Haus, just off the main street. Costing only 100 Norwegian pesos a night, price includes breakfast and a complimentary massage by lovely redheaded hostess Bjorkga Sukkoksson…

 

…You know, this travel writing is a piece of snaeshite. I’m sure no-one goes to Norway anyway, so I’m going to submit this to Lonely Planet and wait for the cheque to arrive. Next stop, Vladivostok…


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Tiggy Joins The No Cussing Club

Swearing - not big or clever.

My language is often less than lady-like. I could give a 350lb Docker with a spade through his foot a run for his money in a swearing contest. I didn’t want admit I had a problem until I called my boss a cock pirate (to be fair, he took it entirely out of context). It was time to act.

Sign of Intelligence
I joined the No Cussing Club. Happy orange-shirted kiddies smiled at me from their website in encouragement. I too could a live profanity-free life! All I had to do was swear a pledge of allegiance (without swearing), buy an orange Club wristband and my potty mouth would be silenced forever! I couldn’t let the children down.

“I won’t cuss, swear, use bad language, or tell dirty jokes. Clean language is the sign of intelligence and always demands respect. I will use my language to uplift, encourage and motivate. I will Leave People Better Than I Found Them!”

I made it through the oath but as I tried to order my wristband my computer crashed. “Fuck!” I yelled, and realized I’d broken my pledge in under two minutes. “FUCK!” I exclaimed again as I realized I’d just said ‘fuck’. This was going to be tough.

Switzerland
The website suggested I try alternatives to swear words. Just use an everyday word, the first one that pops into your head. My friends began to wonder whether I was high on drugs as I randomly shouted out “Switzerland!” “Fudge Bucket!” and “Wooden Monkey Carving!”. The fact that these were the first words to pop into my head was worrying. Maybe the Club wristband was affecting my circulation.

I sounded like a Dictionary with Tourette’s and was becoming reluctant to speak in case I slipped up. I imagined tears running down the children’s orange glowing faces as I wrestled with my fudges and fucks. I had failed the No Cussing Club kids.

I’m sorry kids. It’s not that I have a limited vocabulary and don’t know lots of big clever words. But sometimes only a fuck will do. When you’re grown up and you put a spade through your foot you’ll understand.


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Tiggy’s Word Of The Day – Piggle

Some pigs piggling, yesterday.

3. Piggle

Not officially a word. You can piggle your finger at or in something, like a cross between a wiggle and a pig I suppose. Pigs don’t have fingers but I’m sure if they did they would piggle worms out the ground with them.
Do pigs eat worms? I can’t say I’ve noticed.

Alright, I can see why that word isn’t in the dictionary.


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Tiggy’s Hollywood Movie

You like me, you really... oh, maybe not.

I didn’t know what Hollywood scriptwriters looked like until I saw them on the picket lines during the recent writers’ strike. They looked normal enough – they didn’t drive up in their Ferraris flashing botox smiles like Tinsel Town big shots. They wore normal clothes, had normal faces and probably had messy houses and an overdraft like everyone else.

Hollywood needs them. Can you imagine if they were filming CSI: Las Vegas and the director says to the cast “Hmmm, maybe someone can pretend to be dead, here’s some fake blood. Fucked if I know, just make it up as you go along…” Gil Grissom wouldn’t look like such a know-it-all forensic fancy pants then.

Awesome Movie
Maybe I had what it took to be a movie screenwriter. Stupidly, I wondered out loud to my friends how easy it must be. All you need is to think up some characters, put them in a situation and then resolve that situation, somehow, in about 95 minutes. Go on, my friends said. At least come up with an idea.

My movie script needed careful planning. I had to come up with fascinating characters and an intriguing plotline with plenty of twists. Half an hour of solid work through my lunch break later, I had the foundations of my awesome movie – a dark road trip comedy with a clever subplot. I’d hardly finished my cup-a-soup as I typed out my synopsis. I am in the wrong job, I thought. Just wait until my friends read this. I wonder which producer will call me first?

Hot Dog-Eating Monkeys
My friends’ reviews were lukewarm. “Um, Tiggy, hasn’t this been done before?” “I don’t get that bit about the monkey and the hot dog eating contest…” “I’ve noticed one major flaw in your plotline…”

What a bunch of loser armchair critics. How dare they trash my idea! I played the whole movie back in my mind – it was fantastic! I’d pay to see it several times at a theatre. I sulked like a diva for the rest of the day.

Maybe I’m not cut out to be a screenwriter. The pressure to come up with original, logical and entertaining material is too much for me. The trauma of a rejected idea is unbearable. These Hollywood writers must have a thick skin, even without the botox.


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