A day late, a buck short (Newcastle upon Tyne to Swansea)

Hitchhiking was too far, the train was to expensive, Actually everything was. My brother bought my bus tickets from Newcastle to London, from London to Swansea, unfortunately and unforgettably twice. He graciously booked the midnight coach and I nursed a four hour beer to rent the corner of a quiet pub to stay out of the cold.

The most ironic thing happens at that point. With so much time with second language English being spoken by anyone behind a bar, it was perplexing and hardly decipherable when the same happened here. No, not Polish, Jordie.

'Huh, ah, sorry?' Was what I ended up mustering as a reply... Twice.
Eventually I was presented with a bitters, pondering over Jordie was the hardest twisted form of English, spoken by anyone this far. Still we made some conversation till the closing time of nine pm; it wouldn't be the last time I was thankful for a good book.

So in the open air shelter I sat, with my sleeping bag, towel scarf, make do stuff sack hat, feet up on the rucksack feeling rather content with life and a good book. Being dislecsic has an upside, when you have to ration out a two hundred page paperback.

The first part was smooth, getting to London's Victoria coach station. The second part of sleeping and missing my connection, not so much. Can I summarise my embarrassment by just saying "Thanks Jack"?

Long story short, I made it to Swansea, a day late, the thirteenth of December, 2013; though twelve hours at least before I needed to be. Greeted with a familiar smile and a much needed pork pie.

To Italy and beyond adventure: 13 September 2013 / 13 December 2013

Priceless Sunrise (Amsterdam to Newcastle Ferry)

There was the ferry in front of me for the crossing over to Newcastle. I was glad that I gave a little extra time to find my way to the dock, because each push on my skateboard, seemed to cover as much distance as usual, but never seen to reduce that between me and the ferry. After an hour or what felt like it, I finally made it in to the boarding gates and on board and on time, just.

I wrote my post cards, read my book and dropped off to sleep, reflecting on all the crazy adventures the last three months had held.

It was still dark when I woke up, a golden light just creeping over the horizon. So I made my way on deck to watch the sun rise over the sea. One of a handful I'd seen on the trip, and approached from the side that doesn't require sunglasses. If I over romanticised sunsets in words, I'm ashamed to not capture this as well in photos. It was something of an impressionist's wet dream (no pun intended), and something that you will have to forgive me for the blurred exposure. Though a grey sky would have been accepted, such great way of waking made a brilliant closure to the adventure over the mainland.

When mid morning broke, the sky did not stay as clear, but it was still crisp and pleasant as seagulls started to fly over the boat. A sense of familiarity started to set in as we passed the cargo ships, entering the industrial bay, there was even a little sand on the shore line. If not a whole likeness to its namesake and my home town, it was certainly enough to generate some nostalgic thoughts. That's to say, three months of that intense experience, changed me more as a person than I feel years may have at home.

One of the best wake ups

UK arrival

Well worth any cold