27. salty pete comes up from spain for a visit

contrast was always salty pete's strong point.



the large white collars around his neck let him dream of one day leading a white man's life. the special white shoes he had made were his road to freedom.




being black, his penchant for dressing to impress would rub off on the locals every where he went and they too would dress to impress. special note here to the winners - little count velveteen and snuggly the little bear child.




the over enthusiasm associated by pete's yearly visit to the amstel dam meant that now he required a police presence.



shockingly, for pete who dreamed of being white, small black children had also begun to come to his parade and this was making it harder for him to change his identity...



also, much to salty's dismay, the hordes of people lining the canals seemed also a little too over enthusiastic to cheer on fat nick, who being 'a spanish guy from turkey' had his own identity issues.





fat nick always tried to steal the show from salty pete, so pete cloned himself and flooded the market. if there are hundreds of me and only one of him, so it follows that i will become the centre of attention!



all the salty pete's though along the same lines. play music and once the brassy funk gets started, n we get these mutha fuckers dancin', den wee's can relax a little and 'opefully fat nick'l fall off da boat n inta da dam dam.



den wee's can relax!



people shouted at salty pete from above - 'the crusaders should have finished you off you moorish bastards' - and he looked sheepishly into his bag, thinking that this year he might have to take a few adults along with the naughty children back to spain for fat nick's pleasure.




pete had an epiphony! i can be me and don't need to change he thought!




every year these people will have to dress up as me and be reminded that those spanish bastards took us muslim moors as prisoner slaves and painted us poorly. they will tell their children that this celebration is of emancipation and that they must remember so as not to repeat the past.



at least in the now salty pete shares the posters with fat nick.

26. a trip to meat heaven

"you know how we always see those church steeples", said miss adventure, "I want to very badly to climb one. can you find us a tree to climb bear?"



old doors around every where, and nearly as thick on the ground as steeples, so recalcirton takes miss adventure by the hand, pushes one open and they ascend a dark circular stair.




"excuse me chap" says recalcitron, thinking this fellow looks a bit sullen, "do you mind if we take a look around on your balcony here and use it for some glamour photography?"



beautiful wife material he thinks staring at her through the lens. a picture in four parts in honour of yesterdday's walking tour - tower/city/hair/face...



not even having to say there name, just thinking about Mr & Mrs Bibi and they appear as if by chance.



take us on another tour? ok. lets start with this roof first ok. sure, come an meet my stoney friends.



those two up there are frans and henrick. these below here are the google eyed doggy guys. otherwise known as the pond skippers.



the long necked guys are security and ready to rain burning oil onto anyone trying to climb them from below.



this image is called "cross city" and examines the synergistic relationships of church and state and people and power. in a place where upheaval has been real and people took action to level the playing field, the monumental church is pushed to the side leaving industry to flourish and a haze over the city.



on ceremonial days, this big bell tolls over the city. the hunchback bellringer is no longer on duty, but everyone remembers him.



magestic steel that has been hit always in one spot will become indented. how many cycles did it take for this cold working occur?





all that bell ringing can make you very hungry and it seems the wind changed just this sullen looking chap was going in for a nibble.



realising that in this place many went to meet heaven, seeing the gargoyle chowing down gives an eary feeling. a little enclosed and vulnerable, you realise it is a long way down and the flying buttresses will not come to your rescue.



only thing left is to climb higher and take in the magnificent vista, find ma adventure & The Bibis, slash some graffiti and try to take coins out of the out long necked guys hot oil shutes.








inside the chapel, preperations were underway for a eucharist service. the empty pews and conga line of visitors oblivious.




our heroes were finely honed and struck by the timeless beauty of notre dame. all those stairs/the meat eaters out on the roof/the thought of wafers being served just a few feet aqway.





recalcitron can tell what they are all thinking. the biker chic's secret authentic french waiters with white aprons restaurant was calling - a holy grail. they would form a band together and make set off at once.



outside in the daylight, recalcitron took the first step and placed the thinking cap, especially prepared by The Biker Chic onto his poncy nonce, as a sign of their commitment to the quest.



one quick glance back up to the sullen boys on the roof and they was off, holding hands to obey the sign from above.




with the grail quest now pulsing through their beings, every new turn presented a sign. a potential clue. black cat is bad luck, white cat is chaos, ginger cat is warm in the sunshine...



more signs. this time on the road. they knew The Biker Chic had been this way.




always time for sight seeing and Mr Bibi was kind enough to show us name carved on a foreign eucalypt. "my accent comes from the same place as this tree" he said, proud as punch.



just around the corner - another clue. the samaritan had been past and all our eyes were mod in shadow.



buildings looking like the inside and outside moulds of an enourmous cup. another clue.



the now ms adventure was happy to calm this poor rocky head. no signs here just freakish behaviour.



another clue. see we were in notre dame when the epiphany came and here are little sheeps, like lambs to the slaughter, filing into said religious establishment.



confirmed that something was up? no reason for a graffiti laden truck to be parked there otherwise?





12 chairs, a representational colour scheme and a P-Hamburger jut near a funk filled unit ... spooky.





you bet things are getting weird. this bike path is really very long and the grail must appear soon by the look of these maps.





celebrate. its all right. for the untrained english readers eye, it appears that meat heaven has appeared and the title even translates roughly as 'meat soup charters'.




inside the atmosphere rivals that of the enourmous church. turn of the century charm meets converted bank. whispers of money scuttle under the tables.





ms adventure concentrates very hard/looking through the menu/trying hard to make tofu appear on the list. in this action shot Mr Bibi ruptures with joy and Mrs Bibi sticks out a tray to catch the enthusuasm.





the waiter approaches stealthly. recalcitron catches a whisper. immediately they all know the grail quest is coming to a head. seeing that the order is there, written in front of him, recalcitron expend his last neurons trying to figure out what it says.




quickly enough, the big don't argue slaps him in the face. all memory from here on remains confidential for the next 30 years. eating the snails pace, shoes and all, wine to boot. absolute meat joy.



you can see by their faces it was a journey like no other. shoes tell a story. so do people.




"it is absolutely certain that we will once again meet and random for meat and for the adventure that must surely follow you had best chew carefully.