Tag: Amazon

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Take A Cruise To South America

Cruises aren’t just for oldies with a lust for tea-dancing. Oh no. They are – believe it or not – getting cooler. And part of it is about the destinations. You don’t have to go to Malta anymore to sit on a dinky balcony and turn your skin to leather. You don’t even have to don a sparkly kaftan or a pair of Speedos to wade the waters of the Caribbean while local kids try to flog you miniature bongo drums.

So without further ado, here are seven reasons why a cruise to achingly hip South America is the thing to do:

1. You’ll see lots of boobies. Wait, now don’t get too excited. I’m talking about blue-footed boobies – a type of bird with sky blue feet which lives all over the Galapagos Islands. Choose the right time of year to go and you’ll see them doing the dance moves of their courtship dance – quite an amusing spectacle.

2. Sweat it out in the Amazon. Take a river cruise down the planet’s biggest river and you’ll really learn what it means to sweat. Even if you’re a gym regular, or a Bikram yoga fan, you’ll reach new heights of perspiration in this equatorial region. When you’re not wiping your brow, you’ll see chattering monkeys and native villages, and maybe even fish for piranhas.

3. Get the Horn. Some itineraries sail all the way under Cape Horn – the furthest south point in Chile. Early round-the-world sailors had to take this route before the Panama Canal was built. It’s pretty spectacular: glaciers, fjords, whales, penguins and condors will guide your way. Just keep an eye out for icebergs, eh?

4. Get high. Bolivian drug dens aside, there is plenty of stuff to get you high – quite literally – in South America. Choose cultural cruise which drops you off on the Peruvian coastline for an inland trip to the Lost City of Machu Picchu. Here, nearly 2,500 metres above sea level, you’ll have shortness of breath from both the altitude and the view. Chill out back at the beach with a few Pisco Sours before moving on.

5. Spy on supermodels. Ah, Brazil. Forget about feeling insecure in your frumpy on-piece and do what every other tourist does: find a prime viewing spot on Copacabana and watch the local ladies and gents play a hot and sweaty game of beach volleyball. It’s a beautiful thing. The teeny bikinis, the even smaller trunks, the toned, tanned flesh… these people really know how to look gorgeous, and they are used to being stared at.

6. Tango in Buenos Aires. The capital of Argentina is a city that keeps on giving. The locals will teach you how to stay up all night and then go straight to work for the day, and they’ll laugh it off when you ask them why the country has the highest number of psychiatrists per capita. Let them teach you to tango and you’ll be made an absolute fool of – but that’s half the fun. Knock back the red wine and get on with it. If you can get into a tangle with a luscious local, all the better!

7. Gurn at giant tortoises. The Galapagos Islands, as we’ve already seen, have such amusing animals as the blue-footed booby. But the giant tortoises take the trophy for oddest animal. These wrinkled old things staggering about the Darwin Research Centre look a lot like a bunch of retirees on an outing. Expressive and painfully slow, copy their gurning for some holiday photos you will want to frame and hang in the living room.

Article courtesy of Exsus South America

July 27, 2013
Russian Roulette Sunday: Blimey! It’s The Future. Now.
Last week, 7 Reasons took a step backward. We went back in time to the antediluvian age of print when our words – if not our names – appeared in Esquire magazine. How can we top that, we wondered. The present will just seem humdrum now. So we decided to ignore the present and plan for the future.

In historical envisaging of the future, it’s all hoverboards, cars that fly and spangly jumpsuits. But it’s fast becoming clear that the true instrument of the future will be the Kindle. That’s how things will be read in years to come. We determined that the way forward for 7 Reasons was to embrace the Kindle and prepare for it. Well, Jon thought that we should wear spangly jumpsuits and LED watches, but fortunately he lost the coin-toss.

So we’ve got together with the people at Amazon and we’ve made it happen. From today, we have a new thing:

That’s right Kindlers, 7 Reasons is now available on your Kindles. So when you’re out there Kindling in your futuristic world of the future, you need never miss a single 7 Reasons post. They’ll just appear on your Kindle via the combined mediums of witchcraft, space-age jiggery-pokery and the wireless internet. You can subscribe to 7 Reasons : Kindle Edition here; you can even have a free 14 day trial. For the rest of us backward peasants there’ll still be the old-fashioned website but you, Kindlers, the beautiful people of the future, will be experiencing 7 Reasons in many amazing ways.

Things the beautiful-future-people will be able to do with their Kindles:
- Read 7 Reasons in direct sunlight.
- Read 7 Reasons for hours and hours without straining their eyes.
- Spot 7 Reasons spelling-mistakes with their built-in dictionary (but not as a drinking game, a post by Jon could prove fatal).
- Be better than the rest of us.
- Think of a witty and brilliant fifth thing.
Things that the rest of us will be able to do without Kindles:
- Stand in mud.
- Eat a raw turnip.
- Point at the beautiful-future-people.
- Lick a fetid dog.
- Wail with despair and cry until our souls hurt.
So, that’s the future: Available now. 7 Reasons will return tomorrow in many forms. Like the Devil.
January 16, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons I Don’t Want a Kindle

It’s Saturday, and the 7 Reasons team are taking a well-deserved day off, but fear not: In charge of the 7 Reasons sofa today is Roger Williams; a Manchester-based writer, lyricist and owner of a full and luxuriant ginger beard. Here are seven reasons that he doesn’t want a Kindle.

1. Fahrenheit 451. The primary definition of Kindle in my whopping great Collins English Dictionary (a tome so weighty and downright bookish that while it would be impossible to swallow, it would be entirely feasible to use it to, say, smash a Kindle to smithereens) is ‘to set alight or start to burn.’ Mmm. You don’t need the Enigma machine to decode the sub-conscious desires of the Satanic device’s inventors here. They clearly want us to burn books. That’s right 7 Reasons readers. Biblioclasm! Libricide! Buying a Kindle is tantamount to supporting the book incinerating activities of the Spanish conquistadors, the worst McCarthyite zealots, the Nazis and the Dove World Outreach Centre church in Florida.

2. If it ain’t broke don’t e-fix it. Books are the perfect marriage of function and form. They have a quality of soul which an electronic device could never match. The volumes you gather as you travel through life are a story in themselves. The spine creases of the well-thumbed volume; the stain left by the coffee you spilt when you first saw her; the enthusiastic underlinings of well-loved sections and the page corner-foldings of inspiration; the sheer sentimental, colourful, characterful accumulation of books. You can’t furnish a room with a Kindle. Unless it’s a room for a hamster. That hates books.

3. Books smell good (musty second hand bookshops in Holmfirth don’t count.) I’ve never smelt a Kindle but I imagine it would smell of evil.

4. Books have done the job perfectly well for hundreds of years. The more complicated you make something the more likely it is that something will go wrong. At no point in the annals of history (beautifully preserved because they’ve been written down, on paper) has anyone ever complained “This book has crashed” or “I wish this book would go faster.” No one has ever advised you to turn a malfunctioning novel off and on again.

You can still read a book that’s hundreds of years old. You can’t watch videos from the early 1990s. The written word is timeless, but technology moves so fast that by the time you’re two thirds of the way through A Suitable Boy your Kindle will be in museum for obsolete things. Being bullied by a Sinclair C5.

5. There’s a physicality to books, a reassuring heft, a presence, whereas Kindles by comparison are…spineless. Books are transferable. How many times do you read something you love then lend it to a friend you know is going to share your enthusiasm? There’s no room for that in Kindleland. You either have to loan out your Kindle, and all that it contains, or they have to buy the f-ing e-book themselves.

6. Bathing. I admit this isn’t really an issue for me because I’m male and therefore genetically unable to multitask, but word is you can’t read a Kindle in the bath. I plagiarised this point from a letter written to The Guardian by a woman. I wasn’t doing anything else at the time. She was probably cooking a three-course meal and reading the paper when she wrote it.

7. And alright, I admit it, I woke up one morning and realised I was a Luddite.

Now…I’ve heard a rumour they’ve just installed one of those new weaving machines at a mill along the turnpike road in Bolton. Anyone want to come and help me smash it up before the idea catches on?

November 13, 2010
7 Reasons This Magazine Has Ruined Everything

Somethings in life, you just don’t expect. One such thing was my rejection from the 2011 London Marathon. It’s me, Jon, by the way. Just in case you are my co-writer Marc, and are wondering when the hell you entered the ballot. It’s the fourth time I have entered the ballot and failed. That’s quite unlucky. And for someone who despises failure in all its forms, a horrendous turn of events. I was so sure I was going to get an accepted magazine this year. It was my turn. It was my year. But I didn’t. I got a poxy, ‘Commiserations, your ballot application to run the 2011 Virgin London Marathon has been unsuccessful but there’s still a chance to run…’ magazine. Poxiness. Complete poxiness. And it’s ruined everything.

1. Targets. I work best when I have targets. Something to aim for. A deadline. A tea-break. Dinner. Mainly though, it’s a deadline. When I have a deadline, I know what I have to do. Everything is in front of me. Everything is clear. I can plan, I can re-plan and most of all I get whatever needs to be done, done. The same goes for my running. If I have an event to prepare for, I prepare for it. I have the motivation of a medal – and one of those foil sheets that make me look like a spaceman – awaiting me on the horizon. Without that though, the only thing on the horizon is an old woman waiting for a bus, and between you and me, I can’t be bothered to run all the way over to her. So I don’t. I stay in. And eat a biscuit. And yawn. And scratch. And eat another biscuit. And life sucks. (Apart from the biscuits). So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined motivation.

2. Money. This ‘Commiserations’ magazine is going to cost me a bloody fortune. Which, considering it was free, seems both ironic and calculating. If I had got one of the better ‘Congratulations’ magazines, I would have gone on a health regime. No biscuits; no crisps; no beer; no fun. Quick calculations show that would have saved me at least £15 a week. Multiply that by the twenty-four weeks until the London Marathon actually occurs and we are looking at a minimum of £360. £360! I could have bought 28,800 tea-bags with that! Instead I bought biscuits, crisps and beer. Unbelievable. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined my tea-based caffeine addiction.

3. Trainer Manufacturers. Nike; Adidas; Reebok; Asics; all other running footwear brands. One of them has lost a sale. Actually, probably two sales. If I had been successful in the tombola, I would certainly have invested in a new pair to carry me the 26.2 miles and a spare pair in case the others got dirty. As I’m not even going to be running 26.2 metres, I am not investing. Which means one the sports good manufacturers is not going to achieve as good a turnover as they may have done and as a result someone will no doubt get sacked. Hopefully a Frenchman. That at least will bring me some comfort. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined child labour.*

4. April 17th 2011. This is the date of the London Marathon. A marathon I will not be watching. A marathon I will be avoiding. A marathon that will make me frustrated and tetchy for the whole day. In my frustrated and tetchy state, I will probably be looking for trouble. I will probably want to kick something. And that’s bad news for any living thing. Or, if I choose something more sturdy, my foot. Either way, I’d avoid me. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined next door’s cat.

5. Alternatives. Last year, when I failed to attain ‘congratulatory’ status, I went looking for alternatives. Something else to fill the void that had been left in my life. I found it in the shape of a moustache. Or, more accurately, the shape of Movember. For a whole month, people’s eyes were abused by the sight of a ginger handlebar** adorning my face. And I didn’t enjoy it much either. Due to the London Marathon’s foresight, I may well have to do it again. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined humanity.

6. The Amazon. Not only have the organisers of the 2011 London Marathon upset me, they have also upset a tree. Well, actually, they’ve gone further than just upset it. They’ve beaten it to a pulp. And it’s not just me they’ve let down. It’s 100,000 others too. And that’s a lot of tree. Now, somewhere, in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest, is a clearing they call, ‘Commiseration Place’. And, somewhere, up in the atmosphere, is much more carbon dioxide than there ever should have been. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined the planet.

7. Peaks. My sexual peak was ten years ago – though, for many reasons, that seemed to pass me by. My cricket peak was eight years ago – though, for many reasons, that seemed to last little more than a couple of hours. My writing peak was last week – though, for many reasons, it didn’t equate to much when written down. My running peak is now. Right now. In the year that I am 27. But thanks to the London Marathon, I will not be able to utilise it. Instead I will have to wait until a year/two years/five years/ten years after my running peak to take part. And that’s a long time to rent a deep-sea divers’ suit for. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined peaking.

*Thinking about it, this might be a good thing.

** Sounds more impressive than it was.

October 6, 2010