(Caution: This post may contain inappropriate language. Do not read if you a) are underaged b) allergic to explicit content c) have put me onto this world)

I have a problem.

A big problem. HUGE!

Ever since I arrived in tropical North Queensland I’ve been having these needs… urges… DESIRES!

This humid weather makes we wanna crave hot, sticky, sweaty S-E-X!

I said it! My loins are burning and I don’t know what to do.

(Mom and dad this is your final warning: STOP READING!)

I went to the woods the other day and even the mushrooms started looking like penises…


To be honest, it has been a while since I’ve had S-EGGS. I just try to keep my ‘magic number’ as low as possible. Being able to count my bed partners with MAXIMUM both hands.

You: “Well Ev, can’t you just….you know… take care of your own…thing? You’re a self made woman aren’t you?”

Well I have done enough, somebody can do something for me for a change! I want to feel the weight of someone on top of me. I really want to go on a date, I really want to feel butterflies in my stomach and I really really REALLY want to zig a zig AH!



You: “Then what’s the problem? Grab that guy over there by the barbecue or find your fuck on Tinder!”


Language please???

Well I don’t like casual sex. Sex can never be casual for me. There has to be a spark. Both physically and mentally, otherwise it’s just not enjoyable but downright awkward. Especially the morning after.



And I know, I KNOW, I can’t order Mister Right like a Dominos pizza to still my appetite…

2016-03-25 18.09.26

I don’t have one in the oven just yet, DUMBinos. Where dafuq did you learn how to spell anyways. Evelyn is an Anglo-Saxon name!



Ahh the perfect night: a sunset, a pizza and swiping left.

Or ahm… I honestly have to say: I accidentally swiped right the other night and went on my first ever Tinder date.

You: “You mean your first Tinder date in Australia?”

First ever in Australia, Belgium, Tikkiwakka, EVERYWHERE!

Sure I’ve had matches, but I have never dated one.

That night I went out, I wasn’t looking for segz (…)


(…) I just figured a conversation, a drink and maybe some kissing would do me good already.

I met up with a good looking guy that seemed very nice. At first glance of course, since that’s all you get on Tinder. And he was! We had a wonderful time at Noosa beach, had a drink, we even went for a nightly swim in the ocean. So yes, I did succeed in getting undressed on the first date. Well. I still had my undies on of course.


We had a good laugh, but the chemistry wasn’t all there. So we said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and me and my Moke were off to ‘Single Central’ again.

After almost three months, I guess it is normal I’m starting to feel hormones buzzing. A respected friend asked me the other day through Whatsapp if I got laid already. Apparently people were expecting me to go all out here in Oz. Or maybe even find my true match. I bet they were putting their money on the butcher. Or some hot surf dude. Well everything is still possible, guys. So let’s higher those bets.

(But I call 50 per cent on the profits.)





Or wait!

I was supposed to send this out last week. But due to the circumstances in Brussels, I kind of didn’t want to share it. I was devastated and didn’t want to bother you guys with silly things like my brooding hormones. I had accepted the fact that the only thing I would go down on in Australia was the Great Barrier Reef.

mermaiding down


(Too bad of the post war waste. There was still dead Jap floating in the Pacific…)

But then…an alternative ending popped up. In Port Douglas. A nice little harbor town one hour north from Cairns. Also nicknamed Port D or ‘Port Dick’. I didn’t know this until I arrived there and heard it was ‘known’ for their collection of fine… meats. I checked in at a super dope hostel. The main difference with all of the other hostels I stayed at, was that this one attracted older and more mature backpackers. Most of the people were actually staying there for months. Mainly because of the cheap rent. But also because of the chill atmosphere. I felt right at ease. But was still very much doing my own thing. That first night I was working on my laptop. Doing some writing, bookings and sending out some emails. In other words: being really responsible.

Until an unknown voice addressed itself to me:

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The person who asked was Stef. Stef fills up minibars in a fancy resort a few K’s away. Originally from Sydney but moved to Port D about a month ago. We started talking and hit it off right away. The next day we hung out some more. Watched the sunset in the harbor, held a little pool party together and on my last night we went for a nice dinner at Chilli’s. When we returned to the hostel it happened. We kissed. Three days before I would leave Australia I finally got my Australian kiss. Although it was very French… The softest lips and tongue I have ever felt. It only lasted for about 30 seconds, but it was just what I needed. Nothing more happened, we just went back to our mixed dorm and I lied on top that night. I had the upper bunk, I mean. The next morning Stef had already left. Stacking up minibars from 5 am. I left a note to say thank you and took my rental car back to Cairns to slowly say goodbye to Australia.

Many memories will shoot through my head the next days. But I’m sure one will stick out. That night I kissed a girl. And kind of liked it.


(This post is dedicated to my dear Belgian friend SVH, who will surely enjoy this turn of events)


One comment

  1. mark · March 30, 2016

    nachtelijk en vaderlijk klopje op de schouder en een gemoedelijk ‘maar meisje toch….’

    Liked by 1 person

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