Around the World in 80 Girls: The Epic 3 Year Trip of a Backpacking Casanova

Great, yet another book on world travel….

The narrow road is deeply rutted and dusty. It is dark when we arrive at the floating village of Chong Kneas. Houses on stilts line the narrow road, which is strewn with artifacts of daily–plastic, aluminum cans and empty water vessels. A few new fires pour smoke into the early–morning sky.
 

If
you like to read texts like this, then you are reading the wrong book and I advise to you to visit your local bookstore and get a real travel book. There are literally thousands of books on travelling available, so if you want to read long, boring descriptions of the landmarks and cultural stuff, your local bookstore or library is the place to go. This is not one of those books. I had to leave parts of the trip and thousands of little details out to keep this book readable. I could have easily filled 2000 pages.

If there are thousands of books on
travelling, what makes this one so special?

While
there are many books on travelling and also on picking up girls, there are only a few books combining the two subjects. Books on (round the world) travel are often politically correct books written by guys who know how to travel but know nothing about girls. I dare to say that 95% of guys travelling are satisfied with an occasional drunken lay in a hostel, preferably with someone of their own “kind”. What I
can
offer is the story of how I went around the world, with just a backpack, some luck, and ever-increasing skills at picking up girls. And how you could do it too.

So, that means I can just buy a book about picking up girls, read it and go abroad.
  Right?

No
. You
could
do that but the problem is that most of those books are written by marketers or “Pick up artists” who may be good at teaching this stuff and selling it but suck when it comes to actually picking up girls. Did you even wonder why every year they come up with a new book with a completely new system? That’s because they are only interested in your money.

The
tips you’ll find in this book are timeless and could still be used in 50 years. Those pick-up books are interesting reads but custom-suited for the western world. The world you’re about to say goodbye to. The world where witty “routines” don’t work since the exotic hottie you’re speaking with barely knows English or not very familiar with western culture except what she sees on television when she occasionally skips her soap operas.

So who should read your book?

• Anyone about to go on a long trip abroad who wants to read a diary on life on the road.

•
Anyone interested in travelling to exotic countries who wants to read real, crazy stories of the kind you won’t find in regular travel books. If you’ve ever been on a pre-packaged tour, and stared out the window of your air-conditioned bus, packed to the rafters with overfed Western tourists, being pushed around by travel guides who keep you to a strict schedule, and wondered what it’s
really
like out there, and what it would be like to actually get off that bus and go into the real life of the country – well, I can give you an idea of that too. And maybe you’ll realize just how much you’ve missed, locked in your endless air-conditioned tunnel of plane to hotel to bus to hotel to plane.

•
Anyone who wants to travel to exotic places and pick up the local girls whether they are White, Asian, Latin, Black, Brown or whatever exotic mix you can think of.

•
This book is mainly focused to cheap-ass backpacker bum travelling, but the tips will also help out the traveler on a bigger budget. In fact, more money equals more honey, but not for the obvious reasons known in the western world.

•
Anyone shy who wants to improve his life by travelling and meeting people from other cultures, including, yes, girls.

Who should
NOT read this book?

•
Anyone who expects a great piece of literature. I’m not a literary stylist, and I’m not going to pretend to be.

In fact, I’m breaking the show/don’t tell rule in every possible way. Why, you ask? Because I want to tell you the story like I’m having a beer with you in a smoky bar. A place w
here serious talk is easily followed up by hilarious laughter or stuff that need whispering when there are women around.

•
Anyone who is easily offended or overly politically correct. I very much doubt you’ll enjoy this book.  What’s in here is three years of my life. Three years of wandering, and three years of girls.  There will be travel, there will be booze, there will be (at times) utter debauchery.  And at times there will also be those moments when I found myself at some of the lowest points of my life – and how I got out of them. (Which mostly involved girls.) If this doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, save yourself the bother and go read something from Oprah’s Book Club.

Neil Skywalker

Copyright © 2012 by Neil Skywalker

Second Edition,  September 2012

Legal disclaimer and Copyright notice.
The information, stories and articles contained in this book are the opinions of the individual author, based on his personal observations and years of experience. Neither the author nor publisher assume any liability whatsoever for the use of or inability to use any information contained in this publication. You may not use the contents of this publication in any way which is unlawful, illegal, fraudulent or harmful, or in connection with any unlawful, illegal, fraudulent or harmful purpose or activity. Any references to illegal or fraudulous activities or the use of illegal substances are not meant to be taken as advice. This publication is only to be used for personal entertainment purpose.
Use this information at your own risk.

This
publication contains 0.01 % fiction. The author will deny anything mentioned in this publication which may be unlawful in any court of law worldwide.

The
author has tried to recreate events, locales and conversations from his own memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity the author has changed the names of individuals; the author also may have changed some identifying characteristics and details. The author of this publication does not share personal information with third–parties nor will the author share personal information on anyone mentioned in this publication.

If
you won’t accept these conditions, please stop reading now.

All
rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For
the girls who fell in love with me
I hope you never read this book

Prologue:
You know it’s time to leave when…

Chapter 1 – Going East
Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia

Chapter 2 – Northern Asia
Japan & South Korea
China, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan

Chapter 3 – South East Asia
Vietnam
Thailand
Cambodia
Laos
Myanmar
Malaysia
Philippines
Malaysian Borneo, Brunei and Singapore
Indonesia

Chapter 4 – Oceania
Australia & New Zealand

Chapter 5 – South America
Argentina
Chile
Bolivia
Peru
Ecuador
Colombia
Bolivia
Paraguay
Uruguay
Brazil

Chapter 6 – The Guyana’s
Guyana
Suriname
French Guyana

Chapter 7 – The Caribbean
Trinidad & Tobago and Jamaica

Chapter 8 – United States
 

Tips and trips section for picking up girls home and abroad
Style and Fashion
Alpha Behavior
Inner Game
Approach Anxiety
Approaching in clubs
Flirting signs and Teasing
Pre selection
Motivation
Date game and Conversational techniques
DHV a
nd Storytelling
How to talk in third world countries
Escalating for the bang
Travel cheap: The backpacking Casanova way
What to bring on your trip
Conquering the language barrier
 

Special Thanks

Thwack!
The dull sound of a hard punch to the face. Dara’s pupils swam and she stumbled on her feet for half a second before her surprised look at Nina turned vicious. Without hesitating she threw herself at Nina and grabbed her by the hair, both of them kicking and punching, screaming in a language I didn’t understand as they tried to tear each other’s scalp off. I tried to pull them apart but their fingers were all tangled up in each other’s hair, and they had no intention of letting go. All the people in the guesthouse were staring, and quickly two guys who worked there rushed over to help stop the fight, with a method rather more effective than mine: they started beating the girls all over until they gave in and stopped. One of the guys was hitting Nina so hard I had to pull him off her.

When t
he fight was broken up, Dara gave me a desperate look and walked away crying. Even coming out of a fight she still looked gorgeous. Her shirt was torn and showed a bit of the big beautiful breasts I had touched so many times before. I looked inside my room and saw Nina lying on the floor, crying and still soaking wet from that crazy jump she’d made into the filthy lake a little earlier. I closed the door and dragged Nina into the shower, took her clothes off and turned the water on. Her everlasting smile was gone, her eyes looked straight through me and she lay there like a ragdoll. I was washing the dirty water off her naked body and looked at her bruises and suddenly it hit me: I was shocked at how easily I was fixing up this bruised and naked twenty-three year old Vietnamese girl like it was an everyday thing. What the hell did I get myself into? And more importantly….
 

What
the hell had happened to me?
 

To
answer that, I have to go back to the beginning.

Prologue: You know it’s time to leave when…

My name’s not actually Neil Skywalker.  That part you probably figured out already, considering that I don’t think there’s anyone out there who actually has that last name.  And I was never the type of guy you’d expect to find surrounded by screaming, cat-fighting Asian girls battling over him.

Rather the opposite, in fact. I was born and raised in Holland or, as it’s officially called, the Netherlands. My small country used to be famous for its excellent cheese, wooden shoes and windmills. Now it’s famous for legal marijuana being sold in coffee shops and tax-paying prostitutes in the red light districts.

I
didn’t start out as a total chump, like most guys who write about picking up girls, but I’ve just been a regular dude for most of my life. Let me start the story by jumping back to my time as a teenager.

During
my high school years I was the bad influence in class and wasn’t interested in learning anything. I changed high schools three times. I lost my virginity when I was thirteen years old on a family holiday in France. The girl was English, and therefore my first lay was also my first flag. That might sound like the start of a promising Casanova career but it was a one hit wonder and nothing happened for the next four years.

As
far as I know, no one had sex at my high school. If they did, they hid it well. At the last school dance I made out with a girl named Tammy. A blond and smiley girl with melon sized breasts. They were truly huge. Unfortunately the rest of her body was slightly on the heavy side too. She was a sweet girl but impossible to get in the sack. It lasted three weeks. Never been a patient guy.

I soon found another girl. She lived in quite a rough neighborhood.
Just like her daughter, her overly friendly/horny mom couldn’t keep her hands of me which was more than a bit weird when you’re a seventeen year old boy. In those times you had to wait till your parents were out of the house if you wanted to have sex. Something that didn’t happen often. We had sex just three times before we broke up. 

I didn’t date any girls for two years after that.
At age nineteen, I could count the times I had sex on one hand. A fact my “friends” and colleagues at the construction site were happily using to make fun of me.

After getting my driver’s license, a nice convertible
, a better paycheck and by hitting the gym on a daily basis my confidence got a big boost. For the next five years I had four girlfriends and one one-night stand in a park behind a club. If you would rate them on beauty then they would probably be 6.5’s. No fuglies but not head turners either.

Things were looking up un
til I decided to break up with the half Russian girl I was with for nearly two years. A lot of (non girl-related) shit had happened in the last few years including hanging out with the wrong crowd and frequent and serious trouble with the law. Something I won’t go into in this book.

I
was always too hard-headed and foolish to get a college education, and after basic high school I worked at all kinds of jobs. Unlike some guys, luckily I had some skills and wasn’t just lifting boxes. For many years I was working in construction as a carpenter, and for a little while as a tiler.

It would have been great for the self-esteem – I’m pretty proud of some of the carpentry projects I did – if it hadn’t been for the fact that any kind of manual labor is looked down on, even the skilled, well-paying stuff. Or at least, that’s what I thought. I felt I wasn’t good enough to get a beautiful girl with a job like that. Putting girls high upon a pedestal.  I assumed beautiful girls only liked the educated and well dressed manager type of guy.

Well, let’
s face it. As a major movie fan, Hollywood wasn’t the greatest source of information on how to get an attractive girlfriend. I didn’t see many blue collar guys picking up the babes. It’s always the slick marketing executive or financial expert you’d see spending lots of money in clubs or bars.  A sexy dressed babe with long luscious hair makes flirty eye contact, our handsome hero spews a few quick witted lines and not much later they end up in bed in some luxurious apartment with a great overview. 

And if you do see a blue collar guy in a movie, then he has a cool job as a bartender or surf/ dive instructor or he fixes race cars or something.  I wasn’t any of those guys.

No, I had my hopes set on being that guy who by some miracle ended up with that totally hot girl at the end of the movie. A girl who by real life standards would be a million miles out of his league. The late nineties were full of crappy rom-coms like that.

I lost my
(fifth) construction job and quit going to the gym and doing martial arts. I had wrecked my left shoulder by overtraining and overworking six days a week. It’s still an injury that comes back from time to time when I train too hard.

No job, no money, no girl and no gym. A horrible and depressive dry spell was i
nevitable. I would classify myself as a “totally frustrated and cowardly mess” during that time. I would make up excuses not to chase girls or would lose all incentive to do so.

For the next year I was unemployed
, injured and sat at home; an old but spacious apartment in the city center I bought at the age of twenty-two and completely renovated by myself in the evenings and weekends for almost nine months while working a full time construction job.

Since I didn’t have much money and wasn’t in the mood for going out, I can’t say I remember doing much that period of time besides watching lots
of movies, browsing the web to kill time and having a daily wank.

A friend suggested
me to work as a taxi driver just like him. There were no jobs available in my city at that time and thus I went to work in a nearby city where I didn’t know anything besides maybe the main street. You can imagine the trouble I got myself into by not knowing any streets at all. This was before navigation in cars and I had to use a paper map.

My friend and I
were known as the laziest cab drivers ever. While other goody two-shoe drivers were getting lots of rides, we were busy hanging out with people around the train station and drinking coffee all day. The only times I was making an effort was when I could do a ride of the meter and could pocket the money myself. I was making a fixed minimum wage so I didn’t really care if I lost the job or not.

There were always tons of college girls around the bus and train station but since I didn’t have much game, I did nothing with all those opportunities walking by. I also felt that I wasn’t good enough for college educated girls since I had such a low income job. I did however have a
one night stand with a colleague after which I tried to avoid her as much as possible since the sex was pretty bad. She however had a thing for me so that I had to use a system of scouts and phone calls to see if she was at the train station.

I had a short relationship with a young platinum blond girl (actually a college student I met through a friend) during that time so technically I was cheating during that one night stand. The relationship only lasted four weeks anyway, more on that later in the book.
Later on I met a girl during work and she became my girlfriend for the next 3.5 years.

After
a year I was pretty bored with the taxi driving and wanted more out of life. My contract had just been renewed and I stayed at home pretending to have back problems (which wasn’t a complete lie btw).  I wanted to get an office job and an uncle told me about me being a professional buyer just like him. It sounded pretty good to me.

The only problem was the expensive course I had to follow. I couldn’t afford it so I managed to pretty much blackmail the taxi company to pay for half my education if I volunteered to quit my job. A trade which basically saved me about 1700 dollars at the time and the taxi company paying for an employee that didn’t work. Corporate laws are a bit different (read better) in Northern Europe and the employee is well protected from being fired.

I took a job at a local bread factory/bakery and worked a three shift job packing all kinds of bakery products off the conveyer belt. In hindsight I can barely believe I worked there for nearly six months.  A truly depressing, dead end job but hell, it paid the bills and I had time to study and follow the course.

After a while I got laid off and received
unemployment money again (70% of your net salary per month). I sat at home for almost a year before I got a big break when a government recruitment office gave me an internship at a company that designed and manufactured machines. After six months they gave me a year contract. I became quite popular at the company for being able to do the job even though I didn’t have the academic education everyone thought was required for the job. I got into the strategic buying department and went about buying parts for machines from all over the world – though since I was an assistant, I never got to travel.

It was the second time my social skills got a reasonable boost. The first of course being a blabbermouth taxi driver but that was mostly to score a bigger tip.

Around then I was also a fanatic at trading stock options and spent a lot of time and money on that, dreaming of what a fantastic lifestyle I would have once I had some big money to spend. Instead of buying cool clothes, going to bars and socializing I was wasting my precious time and money on bad investments and a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. It ended in a fight and her packing up her stuff and leaving. Never saw her again and good riddance. It was a 3.5 year mistake. 

Well, at least my investments were going not all that bad. Like any half-assed investor I made some money and lo
st some too. At one point, though, it looked like it might all have been worth it. For years I’d been anticipating the big crash in 2008, and bought lots of put options, that means you make money when the market goes down. Options are high risk/high reward investments.  But I didn’t realize just how bad it would be, so when the stock market had already bounced up and down a few times and I was becoming disappointed in the outcome and was afraid the market might even go up again and I would lose all my invested money, I sold everything, clearing a cool 10,000 Euros profit. It was a reasonable profit considering the original money I put in my account but then disaster struck and the Dutch stock market crashed in an all out panic. I could have made 150,000 Euros if I’d held on for just three or four weeks longer.

I wasn’t cut out for this and my hopes and dreams of having an easy life went out the door and it depressed me for months. Of course I had to smile at work and couldn’t talk about it. It was this depressing time that planted a seed in my mind about wanting to leave everything behind. I just didn’t know how to give form to my escapism needs.

For years I thought that if I saved enough money or became rich the hot girls and successful life would come to me. This dream was now gone and then one day I saw some poor-looking guy with a really hot girl on the back of his bicycle. They were laughing and having fun and suddenly reality hit me in the face. It wasn’t money that was keeping me from success; it was me and my social behavior. I wasn’t an easy-talking or popular guy – I’ve always been very self-conscious and reacted way too much to other people’s opinions about me, arguing every time I disagreed with someone, taking comments about me far too seriously, virtually unable to take a joke. Although I was able to get a girl from time to time, the periods in between girlfriends were full of depression and low self esteem. I was way too hung up on following “the rules” and my happiness depended on having a girlfriend and living happily ever after.