It started with the usual dilemma: do I travel on the trugsmoliggogol or the quicker but more expensive zoomityket? I chose the former, thinking that would give me more to spend on souvenirs. I never like to leave Venus without some orange-veined yaff cheese, righ-mickle and a few jars of gooey Slizz. The ticket machine registered my DNA code from a hair sample and I gave it the return fee to Venus.
In the cylindrical shaped coach of the trugsmoliggogol I sat opposite a Venusian called Xygit 506 and his extensive tales about his young family (508, 509 and 510) made the journey time of 7.32 minutes fly by. Karks always like a good natter. He also shared some Glikkyticks with me - I adore them. I love how you never know what flavour will seep from the centre; starfizz and craterdust have always been my favourite.
Upon arrival, every passenger unplugged their molecular-stabilizers and left the carriage. Even with nothing to declare, (I have not invented a Martian shrinker for smuggling purposes, I am not a solar spy nor do I eat Venusians - but they still ask every time) customs and DNA registration still takes six minutes to complete. The officer processing me was a gargagular and her wriggling tentacles kept smearing me with turquoise slime. She let me through without any bother though so I didn't mention it. I turned back to see a Martian disguised as a hafryx being refused entry. When will they learn?
I was little peckish so decided to eat before heading for the shops. I always say when on Venus do as the Venusians do. I never understand why people come all the way to Venus only to head straight for the Earth-style outlets for omlette and chips. I will admit I struggle to understand the menu in some places (I can't decode Bozziff or Ragump) but am happy to take the risk, point to a place on the menu and see what turns up. Today was no exception and the green wobbly cone, blue spheres and yellow gunge with floating sparkly bits was very pleasing and extremely anti-hunger (as promised by the Plutonian server). The red drink, however tasted vile and I wished I could have asked for some tap water.
Once satiated, I headed for the high street. The best shops can be found there. The diagonally zigzagged and low streets are full of functional shops and tend not to attract tourists like myself. I took the upshaft and entered the first shop on my left: a yot Shop. Yot shops are like toy shops back on Earth - the only difference being a yot shop sells yots. The aisles of the shop were packed with Earth-hoppers, oy-oys, laserpults, tangle ropes, board games (e.g. transmittionary, nine leg twister, alien arms and upshafts), pretend dimension controls (so realistic they really fool you!), gungeing pools, cuddly rocks, kego rockets and much more. I always get a little overstimulated in these shops. I bought a selection of small yots which always come in handy as stocking filters: Saturn bubbles ('blow a Saturn'), hover balls, a human mask, a model jlark with moving parts..etc.
The next shop to receive my custom was an artists' gallery. As I entered I became aware of two friccs stood by a painting having a heated discussion. I did not decipher everything they were shouting but at one point I overheard one telling the other that the line he had drawn to represent Venus was simply wrong. I sometimes think Venusians could do with a more universal perspective on life.
The gallery was a treat. Aside from paintings there were beautiful wafting fluff sculptures, sensual colour hazes, laser tangles and word mangles. I bought a brainart - a liquid you drop into your eye that enters your brain and gives you five minutes of beautiful visual distortions.
I realised at this point I only had time to buy a few Venusian delicacies before heading back to the trugsmoliggogol for my return zoosh to Earth. I was lucky enough to find a grocery gleaning machine close to the zooshport. I put my left finger into the fingerslot, it read my thoughts and a sealed backgalp attached itself to me. I knew it would contain the food products I wanted. If only shopping on Earth was this easy.
I climbed abord the carriage just in time for zoosh-off. I looked over my shoulder to watch Venus diminish to a point and then pop from my vision.
When I got home I enjoyed a nice bit of yaff on warmed mickle, popped some brainart and then settled down to watch Eastenders. I love my trips to Venus.