The Further Adventures of an Idiot Abroad. Home · The Further Adventures of an Idiot An Idiot Abroad- The Travel Diaries of Karl Pilkington. Read more. 'Homer is arrogant and yet an idiot. Smallminded, petty. But at his core a good person.' Stephen 'And lovable. Absolutely lovable. He's got child rights because. PDF - The Further Adventures of an Idiot Abroad. The nation's favourite idiot is back. Safely home from his latest travels, Karl has decided it is time to share his.

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The Further Adventures of An Idiot Abroad - Karl The Further Adventures Of An Idiot Abroad Pilkington Karl PDF Download Related Book Ebook Pdf. To get An Idiot Abroad: The Travel Diaries of Karl Pilkington (Main) PDF, make sure you access the hyperlink under and download the ebook or gain access to. infectious virus inside their laptop. an idiot abroad the travel diaries of karl pilkington is available in our digital library an online access to it is set as public so you.

Most of each episode focuses on Pilkington's reactions to cultural differences and idiosyncrasies in the countries he visits. Gervais and Merchant call Pilkington during each trip, to assign him tasks often not related to why he believed he was visiting the country.

These include training as a luchador , travelling the desert on a camel, and dancing with a samba school in a Carnival parade. It was confirmed by the show's producers that Pilkington has no prior warning about these situations.

The camera man coaxes him along. We don't plan it, he doesn't know what's going to happen. It was authored by Pilkington and gives a deeper insight into his feelings on what he was experiencing. However, breaking the class into small groups has helped promote discussion in classes that are more reserved. In all, my students seem to respond well to this activity. The clips are current and entertaining, and prompt thoughtful discussions about what it means to communicate Downloaded by [University of Texas Libraries], [Brittani Crook] at 24 September with members of diverse communities.

Students who have not had the opportunity to interact with cultures outside of their own often report that they did not fully appreciate how important and challenging it may be to communicate with people from another culture.

I have noticed that these takeaways seem to emerge from class discussions that include international students and students who have spent time abroad. I have found that it is through discussion with these students that the concepts come to life and resonate more fully with the class. References and Suggested Readings Beebe, S. Communication: Principles for a lifetime 5th ed. Boston, MA: Pearson. Bennett, M. Becoming interculturally competent. Wurtzel Ed. Floyd, K. Interpersonal Communication 2nd ed.

Klyukanov, I. Principles of intellectual communication.

New York, NY: Pearson. Lusting, M. Intercultural competence: Interpersonal communication across cultures. Neuliep, J. A cross-cultural comparison of ethnocentrism among Japanese and United States college students.

Communication Research Reports, 18, — Communication between cultures 5th ed. Belmont, CA: Wadsworth.

Like, you know I mean, his theories, his outlook on life. So I think we should broaden his outlook. And they say travel broadens the mind. Somewhere safe, a little twoweek package holiday. His job at home is washing-up. I thought they were only in fairytales.

And she makes him go on holiday. Once, right, someone at the radio station where he used to work sent us an email that Karl had sent by mistake, right? It was an email from his girlfriend. No, sausages. I mean, he is What excites us is the idea of forcing him to get out there. He wants Karl to enjoy it I genuinely think travel broadens the mind. I want him to hate every minute of it for my own amusement.

Nothing is funnier than Karl in a corner being poked by a stick. I am that stick and now I have the might of sky behind me.

What country do they poke you with sticks? One of those unrepealed laws. Just find me that country! I like my holidays to be the same as being at home but in a different area. The time we were in the Cotswolds and could only get whole milk instead of semi-skimmed was almost enough to make me turn around and go back home, so this is going to be a challenge for me.

I was booked into a clinic off Tottenham Court Road in London, which seems a bit odd, as this area is mainly known for its electrical shops. It would be like going to Chinatown for a curry. I asked if I could have the injections in my arse, as I have just moved house and need to be able to use my arms when they deliver my new washing machine.

The nurse said she had never been asked to put injections into an arse cheek and said I was worrying too much and that my arm should be fine. She gave me the jabs and said I was covered for every worst-case scenario, including being bitten by a dirty chimp. I told her this is why we have over-population problems.

Why are idiots who annoy dirty chimps being protected? They gave me a window of 8 a. That window has a name. It turned up at 5. My arm ached after fitting the machine into the kitchen. I did some filming today with Ricky and Steve. Steve told me that some of the areas we would be visiting are quite dangerous.

I had to go and get my medical done to make sure I was fit enough for the challenge of travelling around the Seven Wonders of the World. It was a really posh clinic on Harley Street. I knew it was a classy place, as the waiting room had all the same style chairs, which is rare.

Most doctors I have been to have loads of different styles that have been bought at various times. The place on Harley Street had loads. One of which was Boyz, a gay magazine. I was the only one in the waiting room so thought I would have a flick through it to see what gays like to read about. Other than the pictures there was the odd bit of text that was always a pun on the knob and bollocks. The main one I remember was Suckcocko. The puzzle was exactly the same as a normal Suduko, just with the knob twist to its name.

I had my medical. The doctor said I was in good shape for my age.

It made me feel quite old. I was picked up at 4. Six hours later we were on the road to our hotel. Not big ones anyway. Just having a pack of Revels holds enough of a surprise for me. The first thing that hit me about Egypt was the traffic.

It was mental. Passengers are squashed up against the windows like those Garfield cats that people used to stick on their car windows in the s. It was a long journey to the hotel.

As we drove, all the nice hotels seemed to disappear until we finally pulled up at a place called The Windsor. It is one of the oldest hotels in Cairo and it is situated in one of the roughest areas. It even has a security scanner at the entrance, as if to prove how dodgy the area is. As I walked through, my belt set off the bleeper. As well as being one of the oldest hotels, it had the staff to match.

An old fella brought my case from the coach. We were parked right outside the entrance, but it took the old fella the same amount of time it took me to fill out all the forms and collect my key. It reminded me of the time I was moving flats and I found a company that did removals and was cheaper than everyone else.

I realised what an error I had made when the man turned up. He must have been close to 70 years old. It took him 30 minutes to climb the stairs to our third-floor flat. He had a sweat on just bringing us the empty boxes. It cost a fortune in the end. Another man took me to my room. I was on the second floor, just where the cleaners congregated. It was also clearly a bit of a storage area, as there was a piano outside my door and five TV sets stacked on top of the wardrobe in my room. Bathroom here.

There were two beds separated by a fluorescent tube light on the wall that, once you switched it on, showed up all the damp stains on the walls in their full glory. I wandered downstairs to meet up with the crew and bumped into the owner outside. He was in his late sixties and looked smart but tired. He was keen to tell me that Michael Palin had stayed here once. If these are the sorts of places Palin stayed in, no wonder he went round the world in 80 days.

He was obviously keen to get home as soon as poss. The owner then introduced me to his dad, who was in his nineties, at least. Most of us asked for chicken kebabs, apart from Jan, our cameraman, who is more of a hardened traveller than the rest of us.

PDF - The Further Adventures of an Idiot Abroad

When we were talking about the worst places we had visited on the coach ride into Cairo and I had said a week in Lanzarote was pretty grim, Jan announced he had done three months in Antarctica. Finally, at 5. It actually left the kitchen at about 5. Went to bed. Nodded off counting the car horns outside. I met Ahmed this morning. He may as well have talked Egyptian to me, as the English words he used went right over my head.

He took me to a mosque. Praying and religion are a big deal in Egypt. Ahmed prays five times a day. I would never keep to it if I lived here. I struggle having my five fruits a day. Religion has never been a big part of my life. My mam told me not to tell many people about not being christened, as she said I would be a prime target for witches.

Ahmed told me about how he believes that after death you go to a place that is perfect in every way. I told him going to the toilet is one of my favourite parts of my day. They are just holes in the ground with a hose for cleaning up. We then went off to old Cairo to see the market. The markets are made of up tiny, rough roads, crammed with motorbikes and vans. The stalls themselves sell mostly clothing, cotton and wool. Most days he has his pyjamas on by 5 p. I found one pretty quickly, but it took 45 minutes to get the price I wanted.

I wish they just had price tags on the products to save the hassle of haggling. If you nipped out for bread and milk you could be gone for hours. We passed a man with crates full of living rabbits and pigeons. They were being sold as food. I like the way you could get one as a pet though and eat it if you found it too much trouble to look after. The new market was also full of tourist tat. Headscarves, ashtrays, toy camels, plastic pyramids.

Even though I had no intention of downloading anything when I set out for the market this morning, by the time I left I had downloadd a plastic cat and an eagle for me mam. I figured that the eagle from the market would make a good replacement. I witnessed the call to prayer for the first time today. Everything comes to a halt. All the printers and packers and guillotine workers all stopped at 11 a. During the call to prayer each area of the city tries to be louder than the other.

Everyone seems to get involved, and they may as well, as there is no escaping it. The only time I was aware of religion growing up was when Songs of Praise came on the telly on a Sunday evening.

This was always my cue to go and have my bath for the week ahead. Ricky called last night. I told him I could still get texts, but that they cost me around 70p to receive them. You got email on your phone? I got an email from Oxfam, saying if I wanted to download some goat again. That's cost me a quid.

That is it. So don't start sending pictures of your head and that. Why do you tell me these things? I hated it.

It was exactly what I thought it would be like. I had also seen a lot of this stuff at the Millennium Dome when there was a King Tut exhibition on. It was like the Cairo Museum.

Box after box of some old ornament painted gold. Even the corpse of King Tut was in a box. Most people were more impressed by the fact that Jilly Goolden, the wine critic, was having a tour. Ahmed told me they were expanding the museum so it could fit more tourists inside, but I think this will just encourage the museum people to put even more old boxes on display.

The only way to get rid of it all was to bury it, and then some archaeologist went and dug it all up. Humans have always been hoarders of tat. Ahmed explained how many of these items were made for the kings to take into their next lives.

It was too busy for me, with people pushing and shoving. There were even some people there with babies in prams screaming their heads off. I went to place my order, but the girl behind the counter pointed to a note on the counter.

The note informed customers that it was a deaf KFC. I was confused. Did this mean they only served deaf people? The girl behind the counter pointed out the menu. It turned out that not speaking meant life was a lot easier. I saw a man using a videophone to chat to someone using sign language. Suzanne called today. She was annoyed, as the boiler was playing up at home and she asked me to sort it before I left. I always have problems with boilers. I wanted something comfy to relax in so opened it and tried it on.

I ended up sleeping in it too. If you lived and worked here you could wear them as pyjamas and then just get up at five to nine, roll out of bed and go to work in them. I think this is the reason you see doctors wearing those light blue pyjamas.

Steve called last night. I told him the museum visit was a waste of time. He was annoyed with me but said he had arranged for me to go on a Nile cruise. I told Steve it sounded too much like organised fun, but I had no other plans, so I went along with it.

I met the manager. A smart man in his late fifties or early sixties with jet-black dyed hair and mascara, he gave me a quick tour of the massive boat, which was set over three floors.

He introduced me to his captains and cooks and then finally to a quiet man whose job it was to dive into the Nile to collect any items that are dropped by the guests. The manager explained how he has dived to collect cameras, watches and jewellery for careless guests. As the manager spoke about other items he has rescued, he stood there all in black with his polo-neck jumper tucked in his trousers like a baddie in one of the Bourne Identity films. I asked if I could throw something in the Nile for him to collect later.

The manager agreed. I was quite excited about it and went to eat. The food was good. I had soup to start then turkey and veg, followed by some chocolate cake. The entertainment I had to sit through consisted of a man who whizzed round on the same spot for fifteen minutes, an Egyptian comedian who had an annoying voice, and a belly dancer.

I have never been into this sort of entertainment. But if I just kept my head down and showed more interest in the turkey on my plate, would that be an insult to her?

In the end I did a bit of both. Once the dancing was over I went to find the manager and his diving friend. I asked if he was sure it was okay for me to throw something in. He said yes, it was, no problem. I asked the manager to check with the diver that he was happy, but the manager just said that if he asks the diver to do something, he does it. I said I wanted to throw my Egyptian mobile phone in the river, but the manager was not happy for me to do that.

We ended up agreeing that we would throw in a salt-and-pepper pot. But before we threw it in, he wanted to wrap it in bright pink gaffa tape so it was more visible in the dark, muddy waters of the Nile.

It all started to sound like a made-up job. The baddie from The Bourne Identity then got off the boat and pointed to where he wanted me to throw it. So, hang on, the diver can only retrieve items if passengers drop them overboard close to the edge where the current is not strong and if they happen to have wrapped them in pink gaffa tape and have let the diver know before dropping them? An argument then broke out between the manager and the diver.

I asked what was wrong. It all put a bit of a dampener on the night. I just think the manager wanted to impress us so much he was willing to throw a member of staff overboard for us. I said I enjoyed the turkey and left.

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Strange night. I went into Cairo today and started to feel a rumble in the belly. I was told there was a toilet in the market. I opened the first cubicle to find a traditional Egyptian toilet. I then looked in cubicles two and three with no joy. I was close to using the urinal when cubicle four saved the day.

It had a westernised toilet. There was no bloody paper, just a tap with a hose attached. You need a sponge. I was locked in. I banged on the door but no one came. It stank, had no toilet paper and no handle. I tried to call Krish or Christian but I had no phone signal. I was there for about ten minutes before someone opened the door to use the toilet. He was English and told me you have to pay to use the toilet and in return you get the handle.

The English guy whipped out a roll from his bag and said he never leaves the hotel without it. In he went. They had been busy sorting out where we were going to eat.

I was taken to a fancy place run by a man called George. George, the owner, told me he would give me a proper traditional taste of Egypt, which worried me. I used the toilets. They were nice and clean, and had handles and everything.

We had to wait for odd minutes before the dishes came to the table. George sat with me whilst I ate. It all looked okay. I just had a mouthful of each and asked questions later. Why would anyone want to eat this? Why would you take a big animal like an ox and eat either end of the beast but not the nice meaty bit in-between?

I suppose I came to Egypt to experience new things, and this was a first for me. I would normally be eating beef and veg on a Tuesday. My stomach was a lot quieter than it was this morning. I met a local man today. His name was Mahmoud.

The Further Adventures of an Idiot Abroad

He invited me round to his house. His front door was open to anyone — even his camel. The toilet seemed to be in use. By a chicken. Mahmoud chased it out. I was going to explain to him that a supermarket I worked at got a warning from Health and Safety for storing Pot Noodles in the staff toilet, but he was struggling to understand my accent as it was.

I asked if there was somewhere to wash my hands. He pointed to the sink in the kitchen that was occupied by another chicken, a dead plucked one this time, surrounded by floating carrots and potatoes. He explained how he could have four wives but he has just the one at the moment. I asked if he would go for a totally different kind of woman for wife number two. I said Snow White had seven midgets and she had every characteristic covered.

He said it like he was talking about downloading a new car. That made things a bit awkward, so we left the house to take a camel ride to see the Pyramids. They are not very comfy animals to ride. They have a lump in them for a start.

I slid underneath and got kicked in the head.

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My face was being battered by tiny grains of sand. The ultimate exfoliating experience. I went to the Pyramids site again, this time by van. It was heaving today. Coachloads of people were entering. The first thing you see is the Great Sphinx.

An Idiot Abroad

A few men were selling models of it. The problem is, the nose is missing from the Sphinx, which means all the models they were selling also had the nose broken off, which just makes it look like a damaged ornament.

I thought they had flat rendered sides, but when you get up close, you see how they are just giant boulders balanced on top of each other, like a massive game of Jenga that has got out of hand. I was told how it was only one of the Pyramids that was a Wonder of the World, even though there are three of them, which is odd, as they all look the same. They always look like they are sat in the middle of a desert with nothing around them, but in reality you can see a lot of blocks of flats in the background and the Pizza Hut at the entrance and there is a lot of rubble around them too.

We went to see the Pyramids again today. I was meant to meet up with Dr Hawass, who is the main man who looks after the Pyramids site, but he cancelled last-minute, as he was ill, so I got a tour from a man called Aladin.

He knows everything there is to know about the Pyramids. Aladin began by raving about how the Pyramids were built. They are more like a history lesson. Too many dates were being mentioned. I went to meet them at their apartment. They were called Andrew and Seija. As the great Pyramid is the focal point of the whole Grid system, it is connected to all sacred monuments around the Globe, as well as to the centre of our Galaxy and the centre of the planet Earth.

It is an amazing, magnificent monument transcending space and time. I just wanted to see what one looked like inside after being disappointed by its lack of kerb appeal. They had a nice apartment though, with a great view of the Pyramids from the toilet. They taught me how to relax and went through some mantras that we would be doing once we were inside the Pyramid.

All was going quite well, and I was starting to feel quite calm, until the call to prayer began. There was a speaker right outside their living-room window that blasted out the prayer for a good 20 minutes. This really was the main thing that put me off living in Egypt. I asked Andrew if they were aware of the speakers when they bought the place.

I bet the estate agent got them in and out way before any call to prayer took place. After I had learnt a few chants, we had burgers and chips and headed for the Pyramids. It was the end of the day, but we had permission to be there after all the other tourists had left.

It was quite eerie. There were no coaches or camels or people selling tat, and it was dark. We entered the Pyramids and made our way up some steep steps that Andrew and Seija said were around metres tall. The walls were a pinkish granite that looked impressive, but the stone coffin at the end of the room looked a bit of a mess. The stone looked like it had been cut roughly.

It was as if by this point in the construction 23 years in everyone had had enough and rushed to complete it. The lid was missing from the stone coffin and so was the mummy. They started the mantra.I hate being rushed on the toilet. His cab came. Everything comes to a halt.

In the end I did a bit of both. He was in his late sixties and looked smart but tired. A gang of men rushed forward to complain about my queue jumping. Even Ipanema and Copacabana beach would be quiet at this time of the day. Yes, I like the odd person who looks a bit weird, it sort of interests my eyes for a few second, but it doesn't mean that I want to be in the middle of twenty million people to see it. Even in the back of a Ford Fiesta there is a handle on the ceiling to hold on to, but there was nothing here.

It was something to do with diabetes.