Phobia-Iraq-Love Trilogy Tale

By pdrichmond

1.9K 8 0

Welcome to a tale revealing an inspirational journey from beginnings of a mundane, dead-end existence to the... More

1. The Onslaught of Anxiety
2. Learning to Live with Phobias
3. Travelling with a Phobia
4. Realisation
5. Interrogating a Phobia
6. Alcohol as a Tool
7. Beyond the Fear Lies Freedom
8. Finding the Fun in Phobias - Part 1
9. Finding the Fun in Phobias - Part 2
10. Finding the Fun in Phobias - Part 3
11. Finding the Fun in Phobias - Part 4
12. Post Phobia Years
13. Stories, from the Field Book of a Reluctant Surveyor - The Peg
14. Stories, from the Field Book of a Reluctant Surveyor - Ten Mil'
15. Stories, from the Field Book of a Reluctant Surveyor - The Toy
16. Stories, from the Field Book of a Reluctant Surveyor - Rain
17. Stories, from the Field Book of a Reluctant Surveyor - The Dispute
18. Soul versus Brain and a little Sailing
19. A Bow-man's Plea
20. Alabaster Tribute
21. "The Sherrin" in Flight
22. A Fleeting Glimpse
23. Behind the Moustache
24. Behind the Moustache - On the Road to Baghdad - Jordan
25. Behind the Moustache - On the Road to Baghdad - Iraq
26. Behind the Moustache - Kurd Country
27. Kurds and Survey - Good Morning Kurdistan
28. Kurds and Survey - The Hills are Alive with Hydro Energy
29. Kurds and Survey - Erbil in Heat
30. The President's Speech
31. Kurds and Survey - The Way Out
32. The Day America's Virginity was Lost
33. Wintering in Kurdistan
34. The Walk to a Village Too Far
35. The Du Kakas
36. Conversing with a Driver
37. The Great Internet Experiment
38. Five Days to Love - Day One
39. Five Days to Love - Day Two
41. Five Days to Love - Day Four
42. Five Days to Love - Day Five (Part 1)
43. Five Days to Love - Day Five (Part 2)
44. Romancing in Moscow (Part 1)
45. Romancing in Moscow (Part 2)
abandonment about accomplish achievement adrenalin adventure afl aggression alchemy alcohol alfresco ambition amman amp ankawa anxiety arabic architecture argue aspire assessment atm australia autonomous azadi babushka baby backpacking baghdad baker band battle beaten beatles beer berlin biblical big birth bizzare blackberry bolshoi bond boundary boy brother bush centre chainman chalet chauffeur childhood chips christmas cigarette clause club coast coaster coffee comedy communique community confidence conflict conquest control conversation courage courting crash cuisine culture dance dangerous date day dc9 dead death deer demon depression desert desperation determination diagnosis digital dining diplomatic discovery dispute dog dohuk dream drive driver driving drummer electricity emotion empathy endeavor engineer england enrp epilepsy erbil esteem euphrates europe evaluation eve exercise exhaustion experiment fallujah fans farmer fear feelings fiction field fight finding fire first flirting flowers food footy four freedom friendship frightened frustration fun funny gig girl gmc goal grade greenhouse grieving guitar gulf gum hamburger hammer healing heat help historical history hope hopelessness horror hotel hussein hydro hypnotherapy hypocrasy inspiration internet iraq irony isolation jack james jordan jordon joy kalashnikovs keyboard kirkuk kiss kiwi krakow kurd kurdish kurdistan kurds lady land liason life liquor logic london love marriage matryoshka mcg media meets menu mind mine miracle modern monument moscow mosul motley mountain mountains movie mud music nail new northern oil orchida palm panic passion peg pen persian phobia plight poem poetry poland power president property prose psychiatrist quest racing radio rain real realisation recovery rehab resolution river roadie rock roller romance romantic russia saddam sailing samovar santa scared scotsman scribe sea search searching seeking self shaheed sheep sheraton skis skull snow social song soran spectacular speech spirit spiritual sport staccato stars stories storm story stunning subconscious succeed sufferer supermodel surveyor syrian terminator terrorists theatre therapy thoughts tigris tikrit torment toy tractor trade traders transformation travel traveling tree trophy true turkish undp unops village vip vodka walking war weather west wheeled wimbleton winning winter woman world write writing xmas yacht years york zab

40. Five Days to Love - Day Three

49 0 0
By pdrichmond

08:10:2002

At precisely 9am I stood in front of the leafy, secured grounds of the Russian Embassy located on Tehtaankatu. A large wrought iron gate was opened by a sullen looking official and I was soon inside a drab, sparsely furnished room with teller booths at one end. The atmosphere was sombre and the small group of people who accompanied me through the gates were soon absorbed with their respective business. I found a bunch of bilingual (Russian\/English) visa application forms on a small table and I soon busied myself responding to the form's requests. Then I quickly joined the small queue quietly shuffling towards a bored looking young girl behind the glass partition.

With all my documents present and correct I was soon back out on the street after being dutifully notified that my passport would be available for collection just before lunch.

After lunch found me with an impressive, full page, gold coloured Russian visa added to the interior of my passport. Feeling somewhat elated at this accomplishment I decided to treat myself with an afternoon in Estonia. Catching one of the numerous ferries plying the Gulf of Finland I was soon wandering the exquisite and enchanted streets of "old town" Tallinn.

It was cold and dark by the time returned to my Helsinki hotel, late in the evening. The excitement of the morning passage through to Moscow was beginning to rise within me; the apprehension - the invigorating unknown. I was drawn to the computer in the hotel's foyer to revisit angelika.net to re-familiarise myself with the ladies who I hoped to meet in the coming days. I searched through the pages of photos and checked off the half dozen or so girls which I had on my list. They all remained present on the site. They all remained inviting. Already, I felt that I was forging some sort of bond with these meticulously presented faces peering out at me from the computer screen. The girls appeared connected to me on an intangible level which seemed intimate and personal as though they were waiting for me - and for me only. The virtual illusion was, without doubt, encompassing me and empowering me and I resisted little.

It was then I noticed another face; a new face which I had not seen previously. Her name was Olga and her pretty, smiling face with gloriously sparkling eyes stole my attention. Having explored this web site in Iraq to the point of unquestionable familiarity I was able to ascertain with a high degree of confidence that she was a recent addition. She somehow appeared distinct from all the other girls and her energy reached out to me. Her photos were adventurous, exotic and charming. I opened her profile page and read further.

By this stage I had in my mind a clear indication of what I was seeking. Even though I was expecting my liaisons to be short and transient I still sought particular qualities and attributes. They were derived from the necessity of protecting my own wellbeing and to enhance the quality of the engagement.

It was important that any lady I met spoke English fluently without the need for a translator. I wanted a free and uninhibited exchange of dialogue throughout any interaction. I could not understand how a relationship on any level could develop without this. I also considered this attribute important to assist me identify any potential "danger" directed to my person considering I had absolutely no knowledge of the Russian language whatsoever.

I sought a university graduate employed by a western company. This I figured would reduce the cultural divide and contribute to a more meaningful exchange of thoughts and ideas. Also I wanted to meet a woman without children to align with my own self-centred lifestyle. Although at the time I was not considering a long term relationship I was sure my subconscious was paving the way towards the future regardless of my immediate intention.

Olga's profile checked all these boxes. I continued with renewed interest. I read about Olga's social life - an extraverted, intense and entertaining life full of friends a fun. Something in my mind sensed an anomaly. I wondered how a union with my own almost introverted lifestyle would work.

There was also the question of age. To keep any form of liaison "real" and more secure my lower limit on age was set at 30, Olga was 28. Conversely she was looking for someone up to 40. I was 43.

I exited her profile page and studied her profile photo locked in thought. Olga looked stunning - she had presence; she had style; she had charisma. My hand held the pen poised over the next empty line at the bottom of my list. Finally, I put the pen down on the table. I decided to exclude Olga from my list and with a little less certainty I returned my attention back to the other ladies.

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