Squirk's Overseas Experience

The tales of one Kiwi returning to Mother Britain and exploring the Big Wide World... without being eaten by a shark.

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

I saw the sign

Sing it with me now:

I've got a new room.
You'd hardly recognise it, it's so large.
How could a person like me pay for this?

I'm not sure if it's just a side-effect of living in tiny little boxes for several months, but my new room is GI-HUGOUS. Enormous. Cavernous. Wicked-big. In addition, the bed feels like a king-size, though it could just be a double for all I know. I guess I'd better find out before I buy sheets and stuff for it—and I'd better buy sheets and stuff quick-smart. I don't want to have to sleep in that scary sleeping bag again.

This is the sleeping bag I chose out of the three bags I had back home in Christchurch. It was the mystery one that stayed with me since my 48HOURS team from 2004 shacked up at my flat in Auckland, leaving behind a trail of destruction... and a green sleeping bag. When I packed up for my Big Trip, I thought I was taking my unused reserve sleeping bag, and didn't give it a second thought until I used it for the first time. More importantly, before I sniffed it for the first time.

Suspicious stains

This sleeping bag has a sort of bright cyan lining that is splotched with unsightly, unidentifiable stains. It also has a lingering smell reminiscent of cat urine, which might go some way to identifying the unidentifiable.

Update (2006-12-05): Added a picture of the infamous stains. I've long since washed the odour out, but the marks proved a tougher foe.

2 Comments:

  • At 7:38 AM AEST, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Heh, I remember that mysterious bag... if it's the one I'm thinking of, it lived in the lounge at 785 for a while, and helped keep warm the drunk people that slept on our couch from time to time. You should cherish it - it's a bag with a history (albeit a slightly unsavoury one).

     
  • At 8:28 AM AEST, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Fear the Zig!

     

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