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Courtieux visits each country in Kwandoa, says Chohn-Singh Abirabishnu pirate ship is seeking a bad audience. (Bravo! Onward!)
The act of writing a list in alphabetical order with the items consisting of all of the thirteen conjuncted countries in the Kwandoan continent, the only one which is known to this planet, then travelling to them each in that said order was not thought to have been a worse idea in the travel and tourism when it first came about as a way to kill time outside from the megalo mouth of famed Unimonite megastar, backpacking, and hiking fundi Fideline Ywwlidil (2x guest on The Very Best in Outdoor History talk show), though after the abduction and subsequent disappearance of her in Chohn-Singh Abirabishnu Pirates (as the country is called), the unique missioning challenge proliferated going outside in her home country of Unimon's treacherous mountains and popularized the activity even more after the fact of her disappearance in Geektopia. For some reason, glares of passive-aggressive intent were more common after this in the country which had an orange split-flag encompassing two red bands and an elephant on it and which could be more fittingly called a pirate fleet, as folks who went outside frequently were trying to spend time in each of these countries alphabetically. For most, the obstacle of living in Chohn-Singh Abirabishnu's endless pirate ship for a day –– which the most loyal intelligence in the country say is an anchor in and of itself, it's depth extending that of five miles –– was enough to call it quits. Most had already seen the lacklustre landscape and failed football franchises in the Chinese Congo, dubbing it the most depressing country on the continent, more still, in a set response from 200 people asked which two countries they'd not want to live in most, these lands came up first and second out of thirteen items. Indeed, the two nations which come very early in the alphabet are two heavy demoralizers when it comes to embarking across the continent alphabetically, and for one thing, the influx of people that have been coming into Chinese Congolese borders are probably there for only one day and are the most the tourism industry has ever seen, which is that of a sad fact, but it's seen more as an opportunity for the wasteland to generate a little money.
Traversing the continent by ourselves is hard, so a tour guide will be with us each step of the way. You'd have to start with the land most in Geektopia still want to burn in the form of Aimena. The shocking anti-Geektopian counter-culture is already a sight seen by someone putting their foot in a fantasy land, as nearly all leaders and countries respected and put embassies inside of the first theocracy, while Aimena goes so far to even copy their father land's ideology and take a major economic benefit in aerospace industry away from it by including the city of Witegão in their first peace treaty, denied in 2796.
Anyhow, this tour guide who I didn't know the name of wore upsetting clothes, and so I turned him away at the airport for another Aimenan (this one named Jadran Iinsawtas Tulabu), where a tour guide from the country in which you're flying to sits and accompanies you on your flight under the assumption that it's jetting out of the country in where the airport is situated, of course. And so, in my diary of interpersonal interactions with Jadran, I ask him about the foliage of Aimena, and whether he's really wanted to take up this job during the existence of hostility between Geektopia and Aimena. He answers to me that the only tolerant Geektopians and more are ones who would have wanted to visit the country with an Aimenan tour guide, and in the situation of a hostile person doing so and expecting a nerve-soothing exercise, they'd be setting themselves up for failure. He knows a lot about the political environment, and so I try to prod him more, asking questions like that of how irritated countries bordering the two are getting of this madness. He says that in the case of Unimon, they've been focusing more on distinguishing their capital in tourism by way of pumping out movies with glamorous pork-barrel budget funding from the government, as well as flouting their superb jagged mountains and lake which also serves it's purpose as a freshwater distributary and hot tub, though the government has divided both sides with invisible lines, saying that the eastern part can be used as a hot tub while worse still, the western reaches of the lake (which are colder indeed) will be collected for it's freshwater which comes in voluminous supply. As for other countries, the chubby blonde hunk Jadran doesn't know all that much to say.
He begins to ask me about what I'm reading about on the airplane and I name Constant Tyne’s Proof of Jurisdiction and Individual Thought in Nautical Organisms which was scientifically produced by two of the fifteen truth-seeking researchers who were on Scientific Fealty and Excellence Association's (SFEA) bi-annual reward ceremony who go by the names of Chancelline and Pelsen, Geek born and raised. The experiment takes place inside of a cave in Kings Gate and details an amphibian starfish whose existence is confined inside of a vase for most of the record, where the starfish is lured out with lights and some netting in one instance, and we converse on whether I'd really want to do away with my sanity so much as to look into the scientific legitimacy, independent variable/s, dependent variable/s, and control group of a starfish who escapes from their captivity and paints cramped cave interior with their hues and vibrant colouring. He says that I incline myself to a bit of a voyeuristic view when it comes to science and the areas of study which environ the area of study, in this I feel that he's prepared to share his stories of Aimena with me.
As soon as the thought enters my mind to catechize him, I find that I've only managed to ask the most mundane questions as we land at Okkomagellone in the Toisse-North province of Aimena. I thank my tour guide briefly with a glint in my eyes, and, equipped with a state-of-the-art earpiece which translates the various tones and tongues spoken in this vile land to Geektopian, I ask my way around the bustling scene, though my attention is only with unoccupied taxi drivers. One of the ones I speak with has a thick jovial-sounding voice and speaks in a language which I find so uniquely Aimenan that it seems to elude translation even in my own language. The earpiece triumphs, and this individual tells me his name is Fiezemer, along with the fact that he's one of the more cheaper taxi drivers who's been in waiting for four hours and it'd do him a great deal if I requested his services. He doesn't charge me per-driver, but only per-ride, which gives him a pretty hefty profit margin. I follow him as he speeds through the city with the same speed which I would expect to see from that of a pebble tumbling down a mountain, and with a capital-S swagger, he works his way through the city's endless roads to a lesser-known hotel, where he stops in front of the building which the inexpensive car finally sees a sight in me dismounting it and paying the rider a few cryptos (which are of or nearly the same value as AimBalance notes).
In an entirely new landscape where the sun is setting fast, I find it fortunate that I was able to consult and communicate with a taxi driver for his services in a language not one hundred percent known to me or a travel brochure of the country (albeit not existing to be the most luxurious mode of transportation). I sleep late as I have no business in anyplace (and any city in most countries) that would have me depart before dawn, and awake to a sun rising in the East, one which feels sickly yellow, amongst the purples of sunrise. Upon waking, I see a jet trail in the sky, accompanied by some tail-to-tail choppers which equip helicopter-like features into the airplane that by all means is meant for transportation. A glimpse into one of their windows reveals a family of people who, like me, are more used to the gaze of strangers upon their silhouette. I contemplate the nature of their lives, with everyone seemingly terrified that I've begun to acclimate to the outside world and the social nature of things while only having just set outside of country for a record first time.
The odds of me living in this country and stationing my work here have probably just increased fifty fold, though I will unfortunately and hesitantly have to head for an airport by noon and fly by, this airplane only stopping at the state of Burur cak Noaqsi.
