1000 rediscovered pears

After I finished with Snape [kmt], I found Leiton Abbey. It was mainly rubble, but the arches remained. And they were magnificent. In true religious style, they were huge, to make you feel insignificant. But the skill. Why don't they build like that today? Those techniques have passed the test of time. Why change it? Looks much better than most of the nonsense they now.

I drove the 1000th mile. I bought my self a drink to celebrate. Couldn't buy a Sprite because they are now dead to me. 'Rediscover' Sprite they proclaim, now even more refreshing. No. It's not. I don't want to rediscover Sprite. I want old boring Sprite. You know, the kind we've been drinking happily all these years. If you want less sugar, drink Sprite zero, or better yet drink water and fuck off. Yes, I'm swearing, but dammit I take my Sprite seriously. Now it tastes like shit lemonade, and for the extra money it's not worth it. Each time I go into a shop, I have to think about what I want. If I were American, I'd sue them for wasting my time. I bought a Rubicon instead, that didn't have 55p on the can. More stress.

Drove past the Aspall cider brewery. Didn't stop though, I was on a mission to another castle. Framlingham Castle. Only the curtain wall remained as the last owner levelled the rest to build a poor house, where they feed the poor. At least then they named things properly. Don't know why he had to level it, can't poor people eat in a castle keep? Apparently not. Those walls were massive. Go up the staircase and you can walk around top of the wall. I hobbled around [leg vs shingles] and had apparently gone up the wrong staircase. Like funk I was walking back all that way. There were two people looking disappointed by my apparent disregard for the rules, but I limped towards them and simply stated I couldn't make it round again, and as if by magic, they were smiling again.

Village called Debenham is beautiful. Enough said.

Back to chavs. Saw one walking in a Lonsdale tracksuit. Since writing this blog, I realise I call most people chavs, so gave him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he just went to the gym. He got into a pimped out Ford Fiesta with a scorpion sticker on the side. I shall never judge my judgemental side again. What do you call a chav in white tracksuit? The bride. These jokes exist for a reason.

Drove through a town called Brockdish and one called Eye. Who names these places? Eye was rather nice. I really enjoyed Norwich, which surprised me, as I generally dislike cities. Was lonely again, so I called someone from the couch surfing website and met up for a drink. He was very nice and we had a great chat, unfortunately he couldn't offer me anywhere to stay, but he did buy me a vodka. He is training to be a boeing pilot. Explored the city at 5am, which may be part of the reason I liked it. Found a castle, but couldn't find anywhere free to park but it looked impressive from where I was sitting. Saw remains of the old city wall and this strange little island on the river. The island is only accessible by boat, so I was thoroughly entertained watching them sail across the water as easily as we'd cross the road. One...person...painted their house pink. Why would they do that to me? There I was minding my own business, when I nearly lost my balance as it was so offensive.

Was in Mc D Beccles and they were playing some tunes! Alt J - Breezeblocks and Half Moon Run - Full Circle. Best. Mc Donald's. Ever. I was the only one dancing. Some people have no style. And yes, you can dance in Mc Donald's when you're 100 miles from anyone you'll ever see again.

Went to hell [Tesco] to buy some bananas and pears. I like blush, but they they only had conference pears, I thought I may as well get some anyway. 2 bananas = 31p. 2 pears = £1.26. There is no shame calling the assistant over to cancel pears on the grounds of extortion. Could've got 8 bananas for that price! How is it that a banana comes thousands of miles for 15p and a pear from down the road costs 63p? And don't we subsidise those farms too?

Took a free diabetes test in hell and it came back negative. I took that test for my counsellor - so you can stop worrying now!

I'd also like to thank all of you that have sent me messages of support and encouragement. It's nice to know you're all interested. If you can, please leave them as comments so other people can read them and join in the conversation [unless you're correcting my grammar!] And to all those I've not answered, my phone's internet is sporadic and I've not forgotten you x

Ipswich, Mouth, Castle & Snape

Donkey rides. I've not seen those since we were poor, and living in a council flat. Nostalgia, it's not what it used to be. Went to Ipswich. Disappointingly like London and full of Danis. The town centre was so crap I can't even remember it. Good thing I take notes. Saw a full blown chav pulling up in a 60 plate Merc to get a Chinese takeaway. Suspicious. And surprisingly, there were a lot of Chinese people. Could've been 'oriental' but I'd admit to assuming Chinese as there are billions of them.

Went through a railway crossing, this time with no barriers. I literally [and I don't use that term incorrectly] closed my eyes as I drove over. What if the bulb had blown? Note to self, do not live within 10 miles of a crossing, I'd have high blood pressure in a week. In London we have bridges. Nothing wrong with a good bridge. Sturdy, safe and out the way of a 10 ton death machine. At one point there were little side roads crossing the line, and within 200m there were 6 crossings - all with no barriers. Insanity. Crossing train driver off the list, too much stress.

Wind headache update. It's not a wind headache. It's a do some exercise you lazy bitch headache. How do I know this? Obviously, it wasn't windy, and I had a huge headache the same as before. It's now called my walking headache. Much shorter [and less offensive]. Only happens outside though, as I've been on the verge of dying in some of those castles, but all the while I've been OK. Am I now allergic to fresh air? Dear tuna, don't you think I suffer enough with the wheat intolerance?

So, this waking headache was brought on from me walking. To the mouth of the river Deben. Most awesome thing I've seen thus far. Took 20 minutes over those stupid shingles, but I made it. On the left the sea was crashing, rather excitedly, against the shingles. To my right, the water of the river was as quiet as a child with a lollypop. The distance was less than 8 metres. I could've made it to the very tip, but the tide was circling behind me, and I don't do unnecessary swimming. I don't do unnecessary anything, which may explain the headaches. It was truly remarkable. Isolated, secluded, serene. I could've spent hours there, if only it was sand. After that walk my leg was killing me, as each time I took a step, I'd slide 6in down the stupid shingle slope. The next day I was hobbling like a granny, and felt justified using the disabled toilet.

After what seemed like 12 years, I finally made it to Orford. I'd been trying to find somewhere to sleep, but the villages were too small, and mostly with driveways. There was a free car park in the middle of the 'main road' which was massive. Was probably once the village green. I arrived at 10pm, which for me was late, and as it is the last stop on a long road, I'd no choice but to stay there. I went for a short walk to find somewhere to smoke, as that night the loneliness set in. As I sat alone on the bench, I wondered what I'm doing here and what am I going to do with my life. I turned my head to the right and noticed an old post with a fire basket on the top, with '1553' written on it. That's old I thought, and I jumped up, turned round, and behind me was Orford Castle. That's what I was doing there. Exploring the wonderful history of our country, seeing the beauty it has to offer and giving myself the time to experience life fully. Yes, I got all that from a castle. One that wasn't even open yet. I didn't even know there was a castle when I headed down there, I'd been emotionally lost and neglected to check my English Heritage book.

At 5am I moved to the castle car park. I was astounded when I woke up mast 9:22am, and I blame the American tourists. They were in on of the largest car we have. I'm surprised they didn't hire a bus. Sometimes life is just like the movies. I liked them though, they got visitor membership for EH, and they were polite during our visit. Children well behaved, unlike the English and French hordes in Dover. I was so pleased to have found it, as its turned out to be a very interesting little castle. One of the first to utilise the heat from the chimney to warm the rooms around them. Which incidentally, were tiny. We'd call the Kings bedroom a box room. They even had toilet cubicles. Apparently they averaged 5”2 in those days, which explains why I fit perfectly in every door, archway and staircase. It has one spiral staircase going round to the left, as it allows more room for the defenders, coming down to swing a sword. The chapel even had glass windows and there was a bakery on the roof. It cost a then, staggering £1000 to build, 1/10th of the yearly income of the King [can't remember which one and don't really care]. Imagine what you could build for £1k now. You'd probably only manage a glorified shed.

Finally, I went to a town called Snape, for obvious Harry Potter reasons. Nothing. Not even a reference. You'd think they'd have something there as I can't be the only one that drove 10 extra miles to visit. Or am I really that strange? Don't answer that.

A brief visit to London.

After I had finished with the delights of Dover Castle, it dawned on me that I needed to have a blood test 2 weeks before my appointment. I made a hasty departure back to London, via Folkestone. Waste of petrol that was. Also forgot to mention the audio from Walmer Castle. You 'dial' a number for each room you're in. For one of the rooms, it made a knock-knock sound, a door creaked and the voice said 'Captain, you have a visitor'. Um, no you don't you've been dead hundreds of years. That was the end of my audio experience. I want to hear facts. If I wanted a dramatisation, I'd have gone to the theatre. Mini-rant over. Huge London rant about to begin.

I made good time to Epping, along the motorway. First time I'd driven over 60mph since leaving. Was a long and monotonous drive, misery setting in as the signs for London became more frequent. Thankfully, Epping was a nice breaking in point. I was in the hospital for a grand total of 11 minutes according to the parking ticket. 8 of them was spent getting to and from the car. A two-hour drive well spent. Next time I'll ask if I can post a sample.

Two hugely noticeable things when entering London is the traffic and litter. You can't truly appreciate how disgusting the streets are until you've seen clean ones. And holy tuna traffic was horrendous. It took an hour to get from Epping to Hornchurch. My road rage returned instantly. I saw one red bus and that was it, that wanker in front going 28mph had to die. Then there was the man who let everyone out. And I mean everyone. Turning right, sure I'll stop. Pedestrian wanting to cross in the middle of the road, no problem. Bus pulling out, please, take your time. No rush, don't mind us, the 100 cars behind you trying very hard not to forcibly remove you from your car. And now the elderly. In the countryside, they do alright, the pace of driving is more relaxed, causal with many opportunities to overtake. In London, speed is king and hesitation is not tolerated. I waited behind one old lady who took a whole 5 minutes to pull out of a junction, that an HGV could've left 8 times. Maximum patience required, and thankfully achieved.

Stayed at my parents house. I managed two days before I had to stay at a friends. I wasn't going to let their misery ruin my week. Before I left, my dad's brother called. To most that would be an Uncle. But as he rightly put it 'I don't think I've ever spoken to you before'. No, no you haven't. So dad's brother it is. He never calls, so after ascertaining that no one had died, he proceeded to bore me for the next 10 minutes about his mundane life. I told him that my dad saw their sister last month, to which he replied 'oh, is she still about?' What a beautiful family I have. The love is so strong. Inspirational. I've been told to admit, that I forgot to tell my dad he'd had a triple bypass. I thought the sister comment was funnier and he wasn't dead, some no problem in my book. Spent the next 2 days playing Xbox in Leytonstone. Final Fantasy 13 had my name on it. Speaking of names, who the hell named those characters. And why does a black man have a chick living in his head. It's an afro, not a freaking birds nest.

Received a call a few weeks prior from a man called Shah who wanted to travel with me. We met up for a drink and he seemed nice enough, so made a plan to meet the following day at 2pm. At 1:30 he calls [after I sent 3 texts] to ask if we can go the next day. Needless to say, I left his ass right there and headed on my way.

On Monday morning, I got back into my car and headed for Felixstowe. Was aiming for Essex, but I got side tracked and the sign said 'Welcome to Suffolk'. So there I was. Again, with no radio. Since losing XFM, the radio is dead to me.  Felixstowe wasn't too bad, nice even. Lots of charity shops, but far too many visitors. The best feature was sand. It was nice to have some under my feet as opposed to the harsh shingles of the south. The 'fun' area of the beach was dismal, not somewhere you'd go on holiday unless you collected tokens from the Sun newspaper.

Saw a sign for Master Lord, which sounded awesome. Turned out to be an office suite. Awesome names, need to have a disclaimer. 'Master Lord left, not as awesome as you think'.

This post was written as I sit on another beach. With sand :)

Sandwich, Castles and more Gumtree joy.

There is a town called Sandwich. Not very delicious, but at least it won't make me sick. Beautiful with old quaint streets and Tudor style overhanging buildings. Went to Deal and then Walmer castles. Both built at the same time, in an amazingly short time. Only one year to build a castle. It would take Tower Hamlets one year to build a bus stop. Henry 8th was panicking that the Catholics would attack him, considering he'd just screwed them big time, so he needed new defences. There were originally 3 castles, but the third got eaten by the sea. Bad sea. Deal castle when viewed from the air looks like a Tudor rose, all walls are curved to better deflect attack. There are a ridiculous amount of holes for gun fire. I didn't know they had guns then. My history has gaps in it, and if it wasn't for the castles, I wouldn't care. The tunnels running underneath were the scariest I've walked around so far. In part it was being alone, part narrow, part flooding and part crazed pigeons. I had my torch on the whole time, turning around every few steps like a scared 5 year old. And in some sections I ran. Yes, I ran. Walmer Castle had potential, but alas was destroyed as some high-born idiot decided to live there, and turn a perfectly good castle into some half breed mansion mash-up. Imagine a castle with painted walls and in place of the defensive ditches there were 'gardens'. Pfft. Good thing that was free with my EH membership. Saw the chair that the Duke of Wellington died on, and according to the [irritating] audio guide, they've never changed the fabric since. How special. Only thing worth visiting for is an awesome chest of drawers. Seriously it was awesome. And huge.

Ring ring goes the Gumtree phone. 'Where are you in London?' Not  a good start. 'I want to meet you for coffee'. Foolishly, I asked why. Apparently he'd like to 'get to know me'. I said no, then goodbye and thought that was it. Boom - text message. 'Why u put advrt' Obviously, I decided not to reply. Not subtle enough, as 5 minutes later, ring ring goes the phone. Now, I was peacefully hijacking WiFi in Mc D's, so the cleaner was a little shocked at the quiet woman in the corner suddenly cussing. There were no small humans, so swearing was allowed, and used. Needless to say, he hasn't called again.

Finally made it to Dover! Arrived sometime late in the evening, so parked at the White Cliffs for a few hours to pass the time. Watched the ferries come in and out of the harbour and was offered some watermelon by 4 shisha-smoking-Arabs. I declined, mainly because they cut it on grass and I've no idea where the knife came from. Could've been my new best friends, but they were ugly. I'm not shallow, but my vision was offended. The next morning I approached the castle. And was early. Saw some confused tourists, who couldn't understand that castles have opening times. Peasants must wait! I offered to drive them 10 minutes to the white cliffs, and they were very grateful. My generous act of the day. Felt good too. Back down to the castle and in I went. It was the biggest castle so far, and surprisingly the most disappointing. Most of the inside was 'furnished' and that detracted from the building. 8 million stairs surrounded by hordes of uncontrollable small people, zillions of French tourists and so many cameras flashing, they need an epileptic warning. All I can say from that time is that the furniture was garish and with all the walking I had to do, it should be sponsored by weight watchers. Went down the [disappointing] mediaeval tunnels, and was surprised to see they were made from bricks. The same bricks we use in modern houses. Again, my history is confused. Final note - don't bother.

Saw my first Dani [Muslim] in Dover. Driving a Nissan Micra - the stereotypes follow them everywhere. Those and Volvos must be very good cars, as Bangladeshi people and the Jewish don't like wasting money.

One thing I'll say about the countryside, is that there are a ridiculously large amount of single track roads. That would never work in London, as no arrogant bastard would pull over or reverse for anyone else. Probably lead to a reduction of cars on the road, as every other person would get stabbed after waiting an hour to get past.

On The Road Again...

After leaving the fine comforts of Cassa Del James, I drove onwards to Margate to meet Adam from the Couch-surfing website. I was to meet him at a church. Never a good start in my book. He redeemed himself when we established the next port of call was the pub. And no ordinary pub either - a pub which serves free prawns. I was wary, but I went in. To my amazement, there were fresh shell-on prawns, crab-sticks, cockles and 5 other bowls of free goodies. Now as a Londoner, we don't even have free peanuts anymore [not that anyone in their right mind would eat the piss-nuts]. And just to remind myself how far away I was, a man came round selling raffle tickets, for a meat raffle. Yes, you could win meat. In a raffle.

Adam was a Reiki master and a teacher of many alternative therapies. Those who know me, will appreciate the effort I made to listen to him. He proceeded to show me the highlights of Margate, including the numerous bays, each with a designated use. BBQ bay, surfing bay, family bay, all-night-party bay and apparently a nudist bay. Saw a castle that was turned into flats, don't know if I'm jealous or furious about it. Gained access to an old house, also converted into flats - not so annoyed as I got to look inside! The whole building had the warm, delicious smell of an old chest of drawers. Probably because 3/4 of all surfaces were solid oak. And the stairs spiralled up in a rich, red velvet. Yeah, I'm jealous again. We went for a fantastic fish lunch, which was so filling it crossed over to dinner territory. Had more random conversations over lunch, mainly involving the soul. First problem. Not believing in souls. However, I'm told I have a wonderful soul and only 1-3/400 people have a kind soul like mine. A compliment perhaps. As much as I'm skeptical of such things, he did give me much to think about. As well as 10 to pay forward to a Buddhist centre or someone requiring assistance. Took the time to watch the sunset. Was mesmerising, I stood there for over an hour. Stayed at his place, on a sofa bed, because I refused to sleep on the floor because there were mice. Oh, the things I'll do to sleep horizontally. Had to earn my keep by cleaning the bathroom and, in true man house style, I had to send him to the shop for cleaning supplies. Was woken at 6:48am by the world's most inconsiderate bin men. And was grumpy, so stayed up.

Drove past the fake rocks in Ramsgate again. Worth a double mention.

Went to Toby Carvery for breakfast. Unlimited bacon for 3.99. No complaints from me. The conversational fun began. I question everything and I'm the only person out of thousands who didn't agree with him instantly. And he didn't like that. He had a little snap at me. He had a slight arrogance that his theories were correct, and the response was, that I didn't think they were correct because I'm not old enough to understand. Well, you know how that conversation ended.

All in all, my opinion of Margate changed, sill crap although slightly more interesting. Adam gave me a lot to think about [and a therapy CD!] and so I'm heading off to Dover to try and find me a castle.

Nearly forgot this little nugget. Ring ring, goes the mobile. Hello, said I. And this is the response. "How much for a blow job?" Take a moment. It is a good thing I had already pulled over, because I would have crashed. I asked him to repeat himself, because you know, that's not the shit you'd expect to hear on your main phone. Not the crazy Gumtree advert phone. MY PERSONAL PHONE. But, the now less confident voice repeats, and I wasn't hearing things. Turns out it was a wrong number. No shit.

Catch-up

Wind headaches. I've established this is officially a problem for me. Every time I'm on a cliff or a beach and it's windy, I get a headache and my scalp itches. And then I'm miserable, and no amount of beauty can save me. It was so windy, the car moved when parked. Before the pain set in, I had a lovely morning walking along a stretch of beach in East Cliff. The walk took me along the foot of the white chalk cliffs, in an area where the surprisingly small sign, warns of being cut off by the tide. I'm a brave lass me, so off I went. In part helped by the knowledge that there was a 2.4 family there, so I assumed the country dwellers know when to run from the tide. It was one of the best beach walks I've ever had. The chalk cliffs on my left side, and each time I turned a 'corner' there was a mini-cave waiting for me to be in awe of. One of them was huge. It would be an awesome place to have a BBQ...for a little while. Saw a man cutting some random green stuff on my way down the beach, and on the way up he was still there. I asked him what he was picking and he said 'Sand Fire'. Now I don't know about you, but I've never heard of this, but he assures me that you "boil it to get the salt out, it tastes like asparagus and the people up London pay £40kg for it". According to the woman on the asparagus farm, that's true. And they didn't have any work either.

Next message. Margate is crap and so is Broadstairs. I liked Ramsgate as the roads and buildings were reasonably nice. There is an awesome hill with a man-made stone structure-thing on both sides. I had to turn around so I could see it again. I've laid my eyes upon the smallest Asda I've ever seen. Looked more like a glorified Londis. There were only 2 check-outs and 6 self-service tills. In an Asda. Seriously. They also had two spaces for electric cars to park-and-charge. And yet two 'normal' cars parked there. Better I suppose, than the same idiots parking in the disabled spaces. Disabled people should be able to block them in with no repercussions, and the only way for them to get out faster is to help them with their shopping.

Went to the Richborough Roman Fort & Amphitheatre, no idea what it was, but I'm a member and I'm determined to go everywhere. I'll tell you what it was - huge. Honestly the things they made back then are fascinating, they even had underfloor heating. Yet the Victorians were still throwing shit out the window. It was unnaturally windy and I spent the whole time walking around with my fingers in my ears to help with the WH [figure it out]. There were three massive defensive ditches around the whole structure, must have been at least 5ft wide and at points 6ft deep. People dug that. Not builders wielding diggers. Hands, shovels, sweat. Good thing they liked bathing so much.

In the bushlands there are more railway crossings. And unlike London's few, they have half barriers, and a much shorter down time. In London it feels like you can crawl backwards across before the train arrives. Now every time I cross one, I have a mini-panic attack. Great. I've changed the way I drive, now I'm fuel efficient. I'm driving 50 in a 70 zone and I'm taking my sweet ass time pulling out at junctions. People now hate me. I haven't the money to waste on extra fuel, and besides I get to look at everything longer.

On the last night there, James went to bed and left his wallet in the living room. As soon as I noticed, I took it to his bedroom. He said "if I can't trust you, who else can I trust". Sniff sniff.

Reality 2 [KMT]

Now I'm furious. I'd already written this post, it was awesome and now it's gone. To be replaced by this half-hearted tribute, Tenacious D style. And only half the post. The reflective half. You'll have to laugh tomorrow, when things seem amusing to me once more.

Here's the breakdown. Missing Silver and Lills, the rest of you I never saw as often so the phone is fine. Been feeling down these last few days. Missing human contact. Need hugs. I miss Lills trying to kill me when I hug her and I'm missing number 1 hugs too.

Making progress. Things are interesting and worth doing even when alone. Before this trip, I believed things done alone were not worth doing, and must be shared with another to have value. Yet here I am, sharing with no one and still enjoying the experience for what it is.

I've only been gone 10 days, yet it feels like months and months have passed. I've been spending a lot of time alone, which us attributing to the sadness. I took great lengths in London to avoid being alone, even tolerating people I didn't like. Being alone is one of my greatest fears. My mind, left alone, with no distraction. I shudder to think. One day I'm going to sit somewhere alone, no books, phones or tablets and just be. I'll start with 30 minutes. Let's not be too drastic, that's already 25 minutes longer than my best time. I've had less to smoke this week, than I'd usually have in a day, and I don't miss it nearly as much as I anticipated. I'm happy with that.

Making all my own decisions has been interesting. I've made decisions before of course, but everyone always adds their little 'suggestions'. For seemingly the first time in my life, I've made every decision. Uninfluenced by nothing other than the look of the road ahead. And there's no one to blame should things go wrong. Here I am, grabbing responsibility by the balls. Scary shit.

I'm three days behind on the blog now, so tomorrow I'll have some serious tablet smashing to do. And on that note, me gone - I've got a castle to explore!

James, Black Steve and the bag of £5 notes.

Went to another pub to look for a job. This time in a the small village of St. Nicholas at Wade. They didn't have a job there, and sadly, neither did anywhere else. But what it did have, was James [not his real name!]. He was the sole regular in the pub and overheard my conversation and was very, very confused. He thought I was homeless, destitute and desperate. Technically yes, but actually no. We, the barmaid and I convinced him that I was perfectly fine sleeping in the car. James would hear none of it. He insisted I stay in his flat. And so I did. Now before you fall off your chair panicking, I should mention that James is 74 years young. I'm mad, not flipping insane. So after dropping my friend home, I went to his house at 5pm.

The first thing he did was show me my room and how to use the shower etc. Then he made me dinner. And for me, that was the greatest thing ever. Words cannot express how much I hate cooking. Now for the first crazy part, because I think he is far crazier than me. At 6pm, he went to bed, snoring like a dying cow. He sleeps for 13 hours a night. You think that's crazy? At 7 the next morning he went to work, and left me sleeping in the flat, with the only key and instructions to leave it under the mat if I go out. I know. His level of trust is somewhere between naïve and commendable. Thankfully, I'm an honest person. When he came back from his 3-hours-a-week-job he found me cleaning the fridge. Better than me cleaning him out. I'm still shocked and this is my 3rd night. And third dinner :D

Every day he goes to the pub. So, we went back the same pub for a drink and had the...pleasure... of meeting Black Steve. Yep, that's right, Black Steve He's the only black person in the surrounding villages, and yes, he's even more racist than me. And yet he was the epitome of what you'd dislike about Caribbean people. Loud, vulgar, blunt and callous. Apparently, according to Steve, I can earn a few quid selling my pussy and he'd happily be my first customer. I kindly pointed out that with a stomach that big, he couldn't find it anyway. I don't think black Steve was ready for half-black me.  He bought me a drink in reparation. On another note, I've been shamed beyond all belief. I've been out drunk twice by pensioners. Pensioners! By 12:30, he'd drank 5 pints in two different pubs. And then, he drove us home. I suggested he'd had too many, but apparently drinking and driving doesn't apply to villages. I'm not dead, so that was a perk. I can't drink at that time of the day. And I certainly can't drive. And this brings us to my adventures on foot.

To start, why do these country folk hate pavements? Never thought I'd miss a pavement, especially as London's are full of all kinds of crap. So I'm walking down country lanes facing the direction of traffic, a very sensible tip I'd learnt from the natives. Still scary as shit, as those nutters drive 40mph round blind bends. Bends which I'm trying to walk around. Up a hill. My legs have divorced me. I don't 'do' walking and all of a sudden I've done a few miles, up and down hills my car would've cried over. But again, totally worth it. The view of the River Stroud was mesmerising, the sound calming and the smell, surprisingly soothing. Found a field of rapeseed. That'd be the yellow flowers you see growing in every other field. Then the hoarder with chickens living in an old red phone box. Then mad-foreign-cancer-lady picking tiny apples from a tree pointing to a mole on her face. Billions more rabbits and 2 dead mice.

One shop in the village. Literally, and one pub with strange opening hours. And it's not the typical London 11am-11pm. Finally remembered I can Bluetooth pictures from Mobily to Nexy, so you can see them yourself, attached somewhere to this post. Also included is the River Stroud, the rapeseed field, and the car of a crazy woman, who was in the doctors making an appointment, with the door open, keys in the ignition and the engine running. If I could drive manual, I'd have parked it down the road to freak her out. More incentive to learn.

And now for the bag of £5 notes. I went to a fantastic pub called the Grove Ferry Inn, the couple who owned it were very friendly and she even gave me a free chef-made peppermint crème. It's on the river, great vibes and décor with a goat, two pigs and 12 chickens. Not that you'd need them for a drink, so I recommend the leather wing-back chairs. I asked for a job. Didn't have one, but they had a hilarious story. A woman was helping a pensioner reverse out of the car park. He then proceeded to knock her down, smash into two parked cars, panicked and then drove into the pub. And I mean into the pub. As demonstrated by the large hole in the wall. The funniest part? The lady that was knocked down, rang as I was there, some two weeks later, to ask if they found her plastic bag with £5 notes in it. In their defence, they didn't think it was as hilarious as I did, but I'm a little warped.

Trees, Chavs, Parking & Ants.

I slept much better the night before last. I'm getting the hang of this car sleeping business. I wasn't so cold, because I broke out the sleeping bag. I was trying not do, due to the fun experience of putting it back in the bag, but some things just have to be done. It was just as fun this time. I arrived on a quiet residential street on the Isle of Sheppy at 11pm and once again, slept till 5am. I'm sensing a theme. After waking I drove to the sea-front and was astounded by the view. The sun rising over the cliffs in the distance and the gentle lapping of the waves, with the view extending for miles around the undulating coastline.

I can tell I'm getter further from London, as strangers have started saying good morning. Although only good morning, perhaps I need to travel further to have a good afternoon.

I got washed in the Tesco baby changing room, far superior than the disabled toilet, and a lot less guilt-ridden. Although at least in a disabled toilet you can limp out, it would be a bit difficult pretending my PJs were a baby.

Went to a little shit-hole called Kemsley. There were 6 signs for the same school. At first it seemed a little odd, but on inspection not surprising, as it really was the only thing worth noting. As you enter the town, there is a huge pub which was boarded up. And that was it. Oh, and the school, but I couldn't find it anywhere. Drove past Judd's Folly Hotel and was graced with the most picturesque arrangement of trees. So much so, I had to turn around to have another look. Went to Faversham, and I'm glad I did. By far the most delightful town I've seen. It retains much of its original charm, the town centre is quaint and filled with independent shops and the vast majority of properties are charming little cottages. Sadly, they've let the chavs live on the outskirts. I was the only 'black' in the village, and I was the afternoon entertainment. For those of you who don't know me, I'm not black, I'm mixed race, but to the uneducated, I'm as black as coal. Personally, the most entertaining thing was the old 'white' lady that was tanned so much, she reminded me of an old leather bag.

I hate Canterbury. Every flipping road is pay & display. I drove for 25 minutes to find free parking as I wanted to have a nap before meeting a friend, and refused to pay for the pleasure. Eventually I found a place in the arse end of town. Its a pretentious place, not unlike Oxford or Cambridge. It would seem that universities ooze arrogance. I drove around a fantastic village called 'Selling'. I didn't actually find the centre [village shop] as I was having far too much fun exploring the fruit farms and the complex maze of country lanes. I've put £70 of fuel in the car since starting, and my petrol light is on again. I need to sort something out soon, ask can't sustain this level of expense. At this rate I'll be back in London before July.

I spent the night at said friends house, after my usual round of cleaning. 3 hours of cleaning. And it still wasn't enough cleaning. Could've stayed another night, but I really can't handle the mess. They are like whirlwinds of destruction. The humans and the dogs. So, with that in mind we went on a mission to find some work. After we went to the beach of course. Priorities first. I held a crab, albeit for 1.2 seconds before I screamed and threw it back into the sea. She laughed and I contemplated using my anti-bacterial hand wash.

Visited the Reculver Towers and Roman Fort. As usual, I was enthralled by the workmanship, even though it was in ruins. Imagine, each stone, hand placed, by those long dead. Went to the woods [somewhere] and saw billions of ants. Perhaps not billions, but there were thousands all over the place and they were huge. Countryside ants are a lot scarier than our tiny little black ones. Two of the little [huge] buggers made it back to the car.

Urgh. Nature should learn to stay outside, there is nothing but death awaiting you in my car.

Never underestimate the power of double glazing

What a night, and what a day. Clocked up 170 miles since last post. And my legs are not happy with me. This might have something to do with all the stairs, but we'll get back to that.

I left the relative comfort of Southend and headed into Kent. By 6pm, I was exhausted. I attribute some of that to having a hangover. I saw a sign for a hospital and followed it. And followed it. And followed it. After 25 years had passed I got to the end of a strange little road, and was shocked to find that there was indeed a hospital at the end of it. A private hospital. After using the toilet, I had a little nap and decided I was going to stay there for the night. A few hours later, I realised how much I miss double glazing. Birds, when you're surrounded by woodlands are loud. I mean freakishly loud. We've all stayed up till 4am and heard the four pigeons and one robin chirping in our London-based gardens, and thought they were annoying. This was a symphony orchestra from hell. I'm sure there were millions of the flying-beasts in there. Suddenly there was a bang on the car, and I nearly shit myself. Turns out a bird shit himself, all over the roof. Nice.

I was cold, hungry and to be honest, a little scared. I'd only slept in my car once before and I was feeling suicidal at the time, and couldn't give a damn what could happen. Now that I don't want to die, we have to take precautions. Precautions, being a can of deep heat to spray in their eyes. It works [I tested it] and it's legal, if not a little strange. It was difficult. I woke up every hour, only in part due to the sleeping-bag. In the end I decided that 5am was a sensible time to wake up, and I continued my journey. I've never seen 5am before, except for a boot-sale Sunday. I hope tonight will be better, but I doubt it. Tomorrow I'm sleeping on a sofa. I've never been so excited to sleep on a sofa before.

Dead Badger :(

Saw my first ever real-life-not-in-a-zoo heron and saw a badger close up - mainly because he was dead in the middle of the road. They have huge claws. Mildly happy he's dead, might have attacked me. Saw billions of rabbits [estimation]. You rarely see a dead rabbit on the side of the road, and that's because they are sensible and move fast. Squirrels [my favourite animal] are often found in the road, and now I know why. They are stupid. I had to almost stop the car because one was so confused it kept running around in circles.

Had to pee in a bush. Not many Mc Donalds on the country lanes.  Not much of anything, bar trees. Thankfully I like trees. Went to "check-in" on Google Latitude and Hogwarts was listed as a destination. What an exciting invitation to explore. I had to check it out. They lied. It was a 2-bed semi.

Pee Bush!

Went to Pratt's Bottom. Nothing to say about it. The name is funny enough on its own. Four times today I unintentionally went to the same place more than once. On one occasion I did it three times, from both sides of the road. I must have an internal circle mechanism. Perhaps I'm turning into a squirrel. I saw a 3-legged dog and his owner was limping with a walking stick. Seriously, it was funny. Went to a 'beach'. The tourist board needs to go to South Africa and see what a beach should look like. I'd describe it as a large
pile of rocks surrounded by dirty water. Driving behind hay trucks is fun as you get a hay shower for entertainment. Not so fun when large clumps fall off and you need to swerve.

Reeds are massive!

After many hours, I finally found a supermarket and proceeded to freshen up in the disabled toilet. Wasn't so bad, and I felt better for it. Got some fruit for breakfast and some soda crystals so I can wash my clothes tomorrow. Been driving around all day with washing hanging across the handles on bungee strap. I'm a hobo on wheels; check me out.

Found two nice villages - Shoreham and Lenham, but sadly were spoilt by too many cars. Currently in Sittingbourne [should be renamed Shittingbourne], in a Mc D's carpark surrounded by Chavs wheel-spinning their Corsas and Fiestas. The things you do for free WiFi.

Rochester Castle

View of Cathedral From Rochester Castle

Highlight of the day was visiting Rochester and Upnor Castles. Both seeped in history and well worth the visit. This is where the stairs come in. Over 200 in one and no one knows how many in the other. What's worse is they're all wonky, then either too shallow or too steep. Take a moment to think of the soldiers that had to do that every day. Oh, and allow me to save you some time. Maidenhead and Grain et al, are drab, disappointing and uninviting. As such they should be avoided. Sometimes I wonder why these people live in the countryside, only to have a run down council house and one corner shop, that seemingly closes at 2pm. 

In conclusion, I had a fantastic day driving the country lanes, and now I'm getting out of this car-park whilst I still can.

My first fake day

I consider this is a fake day, as I stayed at a friends house and it didn't feel like I'd fully started on my quest. It began at 8 am, so that I could get to Canvey Island and replace the timing belt at a cost of £220. Imagine that, paying someone to get me out of bed early. Said goodbye to the fam and got to driving. By the time I'd arrived, a mere half-hour later, my mum and sister had sent messages that they missed/will miss me. Awwww.

I love the road to Canvey - Remberance Way - perfectly tree-lined until it opens up to the view of the island. Beautiful, no matter how many times I've driven it. Everything was going well, Oz (the car) was half naked having parts removed left, right and centre and I was trying to not be bored. And then the admiration for me began. I like admiration, but not before lunch. In the owner of the company, I stumbled upon another willing male who wanted to join me on my adventure. But only after he comes back from his two-week holiday. No problem, I'll just drive back home and wait for you. KMT. He text me after I'd left, asking if I wanted to help him shop for holiday clothes, and have dinner. Me? Clothes shopping? Yes please. And for those of you that don't know me, that was sarcasm. If it's not a charity shop, I'm not interested. The phone was off, so I couldn't reply, but had I got the message, I'd have accepted the dinner. Rule number 4.1: never turn down free food when you hate cooking.

I arrived outside my friends in Southend. It was a surprise party and I was early, so had to wait outside for 45 minutes. During that time I had the pleasure of listening to her male neighbour singing like a cat, to an unfortunate selection of songs, featuring Celine Dion and Whitney Houston. At the top of his lungs. He was trying so very hard. Trying to ignore the auditory bombardment, I checked the local paper to see what opportunities presented themselves. I found nothing local, but have a few ideas to try in other areas. Two being caravan parks and animal shelters. Maybe they'd like someone with them overnight? As long as there aren't any cows I'll be OK.

So here's the first fun part of the day. Losing my car (now house) keys. Yep. Day one, I lost the keys. Turns out I'd dropped them inside my friends car. That seem OK to you, but I couldn't check until I got to his car the following morning, some 16 hours later. As a consequence, I had to borrow a dress which was a size 12. I'm so proud I for in it, and yet sadly, realistic enough to know it was a stretchy dress. It was a dress with dogs on. Woof.

Had food at the gathering, and then onwards to 'town', so we could meet the chavs. And yet, nothing could prepare me for big-eared man. He had the face of someone with special needs, the ears of Dumbo and the stomach of someone with an eating disorder. The disorder being that he must eat everything in his path. And we had the pleasure of seeing it [the stomach] , and his C-cup man boobs, whilst he was trying to compare muscles with a gym instructor. Seriously. This man kept trying to chat me up. The fifth time he tried I spoke only with my middle finger. I thought it had worked, but he just stared at me from a slightly safer distance. Maybe he thought I was a snack.

We chilled the next morning, I had a shower and her BF cooked me an awesome mushroom and cheese omelette. Reminded me of my Neopet days running an omelette shop. It's a game, I didn't literally sell omelettes. In that house, they love tea. So much so, I could live there forever. I had at least 6 cups of tea made for me. What more could you want?

I finally dragged myself away to start my mission to Kent. Oz wouldn't start. Imagine that at the door saying goodbye, waving and shit, and the damn car wont turn on. I tried 5 times, smashed my head against the steering wheel and resigned myself to the fact, they he is no longer capable of starting with anything less than 1/4 tank of fuel. Thankfully, she lives closer than any human I know to a petrol station, so I took my little plastic can [first time ever] and got fuel. Whilst paying I looked back from the till, as you do to find pump number, had a mini-panic-attack, and then reminded myself the car wasn't there to begin with. Filled him up and off I went. Thankfully.

Unexpected expenses

Oh what joy. I've received my car insurance renewal letter. £1200. Only £400 more than a new quote from the same company. How nice of them to offer me such a generous loyalty discount.

On Saturday I'm booked to have my cam/timing belt changed. That's another £220. Plus a little extra for the water pump. Always change it at the same time as it's hiding behind the belt. And then I realised my MOT was due in 2 days, so I had to do that for£39. Thankfully, Oz was a good boy and passed with no advisory notes. Perhaps you don't think that's too bad. But my joy was only just beginning. 

I calmly left the house to go charity-shop shopping with my mum, and noticed that my windscreen had a new friend. An 8" crack. I can't fucking believe it. I'm devastated. I laid across the bonnet in despair. My mum unsure what to do, looked on silently as the minutes ticked on. I really can't afford this. My total spending money is now reaching the £500 mark. I say spending money, yet what I mean is total money. It's all I have. I don't have a secret stash of money waiting for me in an off-shore bank account. I don't even have £100 in an on-shore bank account. Another £125 for Auto Glass. Yes, I'm fully comp, but no, it's not covered.

And to make myself feel better during this delightful time, I've grown a new special feature on my lip. Fantastic.

The night I decided to sleep in the garden

Last night, in the name of testing, I thought it would be a good idea to sleep in the garden and check out my new tent. First point to mention, is that sleeping in the garden is scary business and upon reflection, I don't know how I'm going to manage, if I'm scared in my mum's garden.

It all started, when I nearly fell over after looking up at the sky; it was so clear that it shocked me. So beautiful, inspiring, humbling. I recognised some new constellations using Google Sky Maps - point and gaze facility. Couldn't be simpler. Cassiopeia and Ursa Major helped me to find Polaris, which may prove useful when my phones have died. Polaris points north, how convenient. Vega was so bright I couldn't stop staring at him, but I really miss Orion. Other than the snow, he's the only reason to tolerate the winter. After following a satellite across the sky, I began pitching the tent. In the dark.

Picture me, stumbling around in the dark, head torch on, trying pitch a tent. Well thank goodness the tent is awesome. And scary. Yet, that bad boy looked like a tent within 4.6 seconds. With my previous tent, it took 4.6 seconds to figure out where to put the first pole. I'll admit it, tents confuse me.

Tent assembled (and numerous slugs avoided), I began the inflation of the mattress. Note to self; inflate (self-inflating) mattress outside the tent. You cannot blow air into something that is twisted - it will just laugh at you. Next point to remember. Never take a sleeping-bag out of the bag; simply use it as an over-priced pillow. It took longer to put it back in the bag, than it did to collapse the tent and make a cup of tea. I don't know whether I should commend Quechua's design skills, or be embarrassed at my failings. Speaking of pillows. Holy cheese, what a nightmare. Third point, never buy a camping pillow from Poundland. I know, what was I thinking? I was thinking I could save a few boof. That little bastard deflated before I got to the back door. I bought my normal pillow downstairs instead. Did you know that house pillows and camping mattresses hate each other? Couldn't agree on anything. On the mattress, off the mattress. On the mattress, off the mattress. I kept sliding around like a wet fish all night.

And that's how I felt, albeit more like a giant sardine, shoved into a sleeping bag. I want to know which lunatic invented the mummy sleeping bag. My money is on the same nutter that invented tights. How the hell are you supposed to get into the bag? I though we had an understanding after our time together in Decathlon. Apparently not. It took an age to get in, even longer to get comfortable and a freaking lifetime to fall asleep. I was fighting the sleeping bag so much, that it gave me a headache. A literal headache. Not a hypothetical pretend headache. A real eye-hurting-head-pounding headache. From a sleeping bag. Justifiable cause for refund? No. In the end I settled for it being twisted, who needs the hood at the back anyway. I like mine on the side. Gangsta style.

I don't handle the cold too well, so I was pleasantly surprised to wake up feeling hot. I started to like the sleeping bag, thought perhaps we could become friends after all. Oh, but he wasn't finished with me yet, because upon waking, another nightmare was about to begin. How to get out of the bastard. I'm not even going to bother writing about it. It was too traumatic. The only plus side I can see, is that if someone wanted to assault me, they'd have to cut me out and I'd be so happy to have my arms back, I'd probably hug them.