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‘Happy Traveller’ shows the darker side of travel

Marcus Proctor was born in Australia. Having recently spent six years backpacking the world, he now lives in Surry Hills. He has acted since he was 7 and written and starred in dramas coming out in Australia, the UK, and Canada/US. If you think that sounds like his life has been easy … take a look at his new book Happy Traveller, which he published on Amazon UK in October. We’ve reprinted an extract (below) from when he was homeless, and a rent boy – but be warned it is pretty confronting stuff.

Marcus told the SSH he had an “interesting” childhood and repressed memories that were trying to find their way to him in the form of the sort of adventures that appear in his book.

“I was still me to the world but I woke up literally one morning feeling like I was in a bubble isolated from everybody. I was sick of living and working in a backpacker’s hostel so someone I knew was leaving their flat with two weeks left on their lease so I took over. When it lapsed I had nowhere to go so spent four months on the street, eating in food lines, showering at a church but in toilets I broke into on the weekend while still auditioning, filming roles and doing live theatre at night, and while sleeping in abandoned buildings and in people’s gardens because I think I needed to be alone to work out WTF was going on.”

He says not many have gone through what he has (or admit it) “but I have and did. I guess thanks to me but also my guardian Angels we survived”.

_______________

It’s 2005 and a rather cold winter’s night has decided to make my chosen job a wee unpleasant (though given what happened, I’d choose the cold) so threw on my trusty red coat I got six years earlier in Cannes when I started backpacking. I was a rent boy on Santa Monica Boulevard and on my last night there, a guy picked me up and tried to haggle. He realised I wouldn’t budge so he agreed on my price and we drove to his place in south LA. We did the deed and as I was getting dressed, he put the price he argued for on the bed, looked at me “menacingly” and went to the kitchen.

I said, “Remember, what we agreed on mate” and put on my shoes. He came out, we started arguing and I said, “Do you want my man to come around and get the money? I know where you live.” I didn’t have one, just made sense at the time, lol. He opened a drawer, pulled out a gun and stuck it point blank in my face and said “Do you really think I give a f**k about your man?” Calmly, I said, “Mate, I don’t think you’re a p***y but this is a business transaction and I want my money.”

I got the money. He drove me back to my spot and on the way went Downtown (not as cheery as the song), pulled up behind a closed shop and got a brown paper bag from this guy and they kept looking over so I undid my belt and had my finger on the door handle as the guy got back in and drove off. It ended up being a bottle of whiskey and he offered me some which I gladly took. After an emotional farewell, lol, I thought I would hang around for a little more money since I was leaving for London the next morning.

A fellow rent boy walked up and we started talking. He offered to share a joint and since I was feeling a little frazzled I said “Sure!”. We walked down a street and turned into a darker one in which I turned around. He stopped and told me to give him my money … doh! He said he had a gun in his pocket to which I replied, “No, you don’t. It’s obviously your finger, you idiot’. That didn’t go down well and he ran for me. I ran down the dark street, changed my mind, turned around and pushed him out of the way.

The irony that I had decided to leave my mace behind for the first (and last) time hadn’t escaped me as I ran down the street and screamed at a car to stop. I slammed my hands on the bonnet and the guy came from the side and tackled me to the ground. The car kept driving and the guy tried to take my coat off me so I started punching him in the face. It went beyond just protecting my property. The feeling inside was so strong. I really loved this coat. I actually fought someone off me to make sure she stayed in my life … well, kind of off me. He ended up getting me in a choke hold and I started to pass out so I threw my money on the road and he let go.

There happened to be a few road workers who were watching the whole thing so the mugger put on a scene that I was the one mugging him and he stormed off. The workers went back to their jobs and I walked away feeling happy I had my coat and a little down that I now had to make that money back. Five minutes later I’m back at work thinking how resilient I am when I started to quietly dry reach from shock.

I made the money back and more so jumped on my bike and rode home. Living that life, you build a lot of barriers around you so nothing unnerves you but I lay on the bed and it hit me. I literally could have died, my body dumped and no one would’ve had a clue what had happened. S**t got real that day, lol.

I’m now writing this with my coat gently nestled beside me for inspiration and am amazed at how untouched she looks considering everything we’ve experienced together and just realised she’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had … considering how much I’ve put her through, I’m not really surprised my human relationships don’t get past seven weeks.

This extract is from part 3 chapter 6 of Happy Traveller by Marcus Proctor, reprinted with permission.

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