A couple weeks ago Tim and I were sitting around at a Thai restaurant around the corner from our Berlin apartment with several of our travel blogger friends. We dished about travel adventures and stories we’ve never written about, mainly because they’re stories you’d never want to your mom to read. Get your mind out of the gutter! None of us had any particularly raunchy stories. Moms just tend to worry, especially when their children (grown as we may be) are off globetrotting the world, sometimes without internet for days at a time.
It took some work, but we convinced a couple of bloggers to come clean with their stories you’d never want your mom to read:
Hecktic Travels and a Hand Gun
by: Dalene Heck of Hecktic Travels
I settled into the baseball stands expecting an easy afternoon of sun, beers, and a great game of baseball. My husband was on the mound pitching; at 6 feet tall he was tiny and pale in comparison to the mountainous Honduran men in similar uniforms around him.
As the afternoon drew on, the crowd became more raucous. Hard liquor was flowing as quick as the taunting and heckling of the players. I was uneasy but held my ground, sitting in the benches directly behind the backstop, and right in the thick of it. At least, that’s where I sat for most of the day, until the fight began.
Beside me, a young man fidgeted as an obvious enemy in a white fedora climbed the stands to where he was sitting. Their discussion was quiet but heated, the tension was palpable and escalated into heavy slaps to the head. My seat mate just stood there, taking it, not fighting back and barely saying a word. I quickly realized why.
He had already seen what his assailant was carrying, and soon, we all did. The stands quickly cleared, I turned to see the glossy white handle of a handgun suddenly visible, the barrel pressed into the stomach of the man I previously talked about the ball game with.
The game had stopped and I was soon standing beside my husband on the field. Later we learned that a similar thing had happened several years ago, with two people dying as a result. We waited with baited breath until it finally dispersed – the man with the fedora and gun soon retreated from the field and the game went on.
It was my first view of a gun, pulled beside me during a tense argument in rural Honduras. My Mom was due to visit a couple of weeks later, and thus this story never reached her ears or eyes. And, considering she is often already sleepless due to her worrying over our travels, it never will.
Walking on Travels Walks the Line of Disaster
by: Keryn Means of Walking on Travels
Last October I saw my 3 year old son’s life flash before his eyes. While staying at an agriturismo in Tuscany, just outside of San Gimignano, Dek took a nasty fall. He was playing with a gate on the edge of some very old stone steps. I had told him repeatedly not to play there. Did he listen? Of course not. He is three and knows better than his mom.
I turned my head for 2 seconds and heard my friend, who was traveling with us, gasp. I turned around to see my son falling down the steps head first. A sound came out of my mouth that I never heard before and haven’t heard since. It was guttural, heart wrenching, and surely from some mama bear passing through the area.
I ran to the steps watching him fall head over feet, imagining his neck breaking, and having to pick up his lifeless body. Miraculously he turned himself so he started to roll down the steps and I was able to scoop him up, dash to a chair and check him over. Someone was watching over my boy. No broken bones. Hardly any bruises. He did have about a half inch gash that was pretty deep on the side of his head, a bit too close to his eye for my comfort. It wasn’t bleeding too badly though. We contemplated bringing him to the emergency room, we still wonder if we should have.
In the end we cleaned him up, and put a bandage on it (later replaced by a batman bandage that made the world a cooler place). One strawberry gelato later and you would think nothing had ever happened to the kid. I continued to watch out for concussions, loss of vision, etc. (I’m a mom, that’s my job), but he was perfectly fine. Later I chatted with our pediatrician and she said if we had gone to the ER they would have simply glued it shut, but we did nothing wrong. Phew! No permanent damage, just a nice battle scar from an amazing trip through Italy, and a story we will NEVER be telling to grandma back home.
Couple of Yuppies Tries to Get Kinky on the Beach
by: Kyle Foot of Couple of Yuppies
Before traveling to Croatia, Jamie and I had never visited a nude beach. However, the idea of frolicking around with no clothes on in front of complete strangers appealed to me. When it comes down to it, I suppose that what really got me off was the thought that maybe, just maybe – perhaps accidentally even – Jamie and I would happen to engage in some from of public sex. I am a man after all.
On the hike to enjoy our first nude beach in Croatia, it took approximately three seconds after the nearest penis came in to view that we chickened out. We decided instead to lay our towels down at a perfectly hidden spot just around the corner from the beach and chill for a while. Finally, after much back and forth, I let down my trunks, and exposed the enormous (for my standards) erection that was produced out of the pure exhilaration of being nude in public… or rather, almost public.
For a man, there is only one logical method to get rid of a hard on. And so I worked my magic, which consists primarily of begging, and convinced Jamie to get down to business on the beach. Her only requirement was that we do it in the water, so that if anyone happened to stumble upon our secluded swimming spot, they would see nothing.
I hastily waddled in to the water with my manhood standing at full attention, slowing down a bit as the chill of the Adriatic lapped up. Instinctively, I hopped a bit from foot to foot to keep my important bits as warm as they needed to be. Just as Jamie began to laugh at my discomfort, I lost my footing. My left toe slipped in to a crack in the rock, and completely removed my toenail. I grimaced and immediately hobbled toward the shore to have a better look at my toe. Jamie then noticed that blood was seeping from my foot and let out a disgusted yelp. It was this distraction that caused me not to notice the sea urchin that I then stepped down upon with my other foot.
If anyone did see us that day, there was no public sex to be witnessed. Only a grown man who lay completely naked, while his girlfriend pulled the spikes of a sea urchin from one foot and gagged with every glance at his other. In case you haven’t gathered, Jamie is quite the lucky gal. Or so I have led her parents to believe. Which is why they, nor my parents for that matter, will ever hear this story.