August 2022

31st

I will depart from the Buckfast Tonic Wine Monster once I have prepared my breakfast. The increasing intimidation kept me up all night last night. I believed there was a human beneath the surface, but he is too far gone to be reached.

Strolled to the waterfront and captured some images.

Destroyed, disheartened, and repulsed.

I spent my final funds on a tin of French onion soup from a supermarket in Ayr. A man travelling to London gave me a lift. I was dropped off at Southwaite services, where I am currently contemplating whether to travel south towards Keswick or north back into Scotland. Alternatively, I could consider walking the southern upland route for a few days.

I chose to go north and got a ride from a trade plater who dropped me off in Abingdon. Another lift came from a tour guide, he took me to another services before I was picked up in a white van. The driver first claimed to be heading to Glasgow, so we made arrangements for me to be dropped off at Hamilton Services. He then suggested a different route before revealing that he was heading to Oban. I asked to go there, and he agreed to take me. We travelled approximately 100 miles along the western shore of Loch Lomond. He was a wise traveller, full of stories, and pleasant company. He offered a bed in his spare room for the night as he drove to Oban. We drank beer before ending the day.

30th

I listened to my friend play UVF sectarian songs (like "Do You Do a Chicken Supper" by Bobby Sands) on a cluttered sofa in a council flat in Wallace Town at sunrise. The cultural shift from Belgium occurred less than 48 hours ago. I'm tired of hearing voices talking about things I can't see that are ruining my life.⁖

I went to bed to compensate for the sleepless hours at Hemel Hempstead, but I woke up at eleven in the morning. My friend who drinks Buckfast tonic wine is detoxing and in a horrible state. As I get closer to 50, I realise how important rest is becoming.

My friend who drinks Buckfast tonic wine gave me a 10mg diazepam tablet to help me relax this afternoon. It only put me to sleep for five hours, but at least I'm not getting messages all the time. My friend is drinking, but I need to take a break from it. At the service station, I realised I was experiencing manic symptoms and requested assistance to help me calm down. Heroin and Valium weren't what I had in mind.

29th

During the darkest hours of the night, between 2 and 5 am, people walking down a dark lane kept me up for the most of the night! The inlay upon which I was standing was a mixed blessing, as it was sufficiently uncomfortable to keep me on the lookout for any suspicious individuals. I felt bad that I hadn't set up my tent that night because I didn't want to stay in the area past sunrise. On my way back to the motorway, I saw this awful, oppressive art on the Hemel Hempstead roundabout. It's terrible.

The first ride came from an Asian man who was tired from working the night shift. He dropped me at junction 9 of the M1. I had to wait here for more than an hour before a highways agency worker came and took me to Toddington Services. I was given a lift to Newport Pagnell services by a Polish man.

Another driver, a man who was half Italian, took me to Wethby services. The entire area was crammed packed with revellers from Leeds festival. A white individual named Martin provided me with a ride to Scotch Corner.

Martin was a cool guy, he gave me beer and cigarettes, offered food and said he was glad of my company. We stopped off at a rest area and “chased the dragon” together; something I had not done since I was 18 years old and will not be doing again for a long while.

After being picked up, I was driven north along the M6, across the A66, and into Southwaite services. A female driver provided me with a ride across the Scottish border, and she went above and beyond to deliver me to my friend's residence.

28th

I woke up with painful mosquito bites on my body. Vince aims to conserve tap water by flushing the toilet with water from an open-top rainwater collection drum.

I attempted to inform him that mosquitoes were breeding in the drum, but my words were entirely ignored. Although he is intelligent, he has a reserved manner that seems distant at first. I have exhausted my data allowance, which means that blog updates may not be published for an extended period of time unless I am able to improve my credit score or locate WiFi access. I did have 20 pounds credit but data roaming charges erased this in just under one day!

I went to a cafe this morning after leaving the house, and a Belgian woman there invited me to sit with her. We shared stories about our lives and the problems we've both had with being constantly and publicly alone.

I went for a walk by the river an hour later and found a park where people were bowling. I relished a Fromage baguette as I acquired an understanding of the regulations of the game they were playing.

I returned to the house and savored a late breakfast. In twenty minutes, I will be in a vehicle en route to Calais, where I will purchase a ticket and cross the channel to Dover. I'm going to hitchhike straight to Scotland, only stopping to get medicine. Left at 3 p.m. and got to the ferry ticket office, where Vince and I said our goodbyes. I paid forty-eight euros for a ticket and took a seat on a bench outside.

The ticket office hosted an exhibition of historic channel crossing flights.

Another exhibition was about the building of the Calais port, and on the third floor above it, there was a viewing platform.

As I looked back at France, I thought about how my dad's family had a long history in Normandy. Along with other passengers, I was transported to passport control by shuttle bus. At British customs, they reminded me to sign my passport. It was easy for me to get through, but I heard other passengers being questioned about their trip to the UK.

The exchange machine converted £1 into just 52p in euros, so I'm going to hold on to them for the moment. I walked around an empty ferry because the first people to board were foot passengers. I will get off the ferry at Dover, but I really didn't want to go back to the UK. Does that show?

I have exited Dover and am currently at the A2 roundabout, where I have requested a ride from a white van that is being driven by a Muslim family. I entered the back of a van and expressed concern that they may be cannibals; however, I am confident that I am unharmed. I was taken to Medway Services by them. After hitchhiking for a while, a Romanian couple who had just gotten married gave me a ride to Hemel Hempstead. at a service station at 1:30 am. Because of the unsettling atmosphere, I decided to walk a mile or so and rest my head on a peaceful patch of grass next to some garages.

27th

My friend is taking me to Calais tomorrow, so this is my last day in Belgium. I'm going back to the UK tomorrow for various reasons, including medical care, health insurance, and more. Vince and I took a stroll together.

Despite Wervik's lack of friendliness, I have found tranquillity here, particularly by the river. I acquired the skills necessary to play Cubb and found the Viking game with Vince to be immensely enjoyable.

26th

WTF! The Wervik e-bank cash machine requested a 16-digit code from me in order to take out cash. Local cafe in town served watery coffee, won’t be going there again. In Wervik, I observed a man who was wearing a gold ying yang pendant with numbers. In Wervik, I discovered a peculiar music bar.

Darkness envelopes me as I await my train to Menen. The journey from Wervik to Menen was peculiar, as it featured a substantial rubber bumper at the front. It seemed like something from a movie from the 1970s.

Vince and I have previously visited Menen; his relative operates a Belgium fries establishment.

After exploring the city for a while, I came across a gay bar with the same ying-yang symbol.

Subsequently, I resolved to visit a café and consume a glass of white wine. Many strange people came to the cafe and sat in the same chair with me. Captain Birdseye was filming me.

It seemed odd to me that the cafe patrons would nod at one another as they came and went. The situation seemed peculiar. I resolved to take another stroll and discovered a carving of an all-seeing eye.

I foolishly ordered a glass of wine from a hostile cafe whose disdain verges on scorn. It was funny that a woman with a Thor hammer pendant didn't know what my Vegvisir was.

When I went back to the old café, I discovered that my passport was still behind the bar. I thanked them regardless of how this happened. I did not receive a thank you, and the man opposite me did not engage in conversation with me, even though I shifted my seat to accommodate an elderly couple. One hour later, Vince arrived and escorted me from the café. We had previously made plans to dine at a falafel restaurant. I was relieved to see him after the unfriendliness I experienced. Prior to the meal, we visited an atmospheric supermarket.

We bought takeout and sat by a lake; hung out and watched the sun go down.⁣

I knew I was drunk, but I tried to act a little sober around Vince. He was upset that I had started smoking again after quitting for five days.

When we returned to Wervik, I attempted to light an electric candle, haha. I was wondering why the smokey flame went out every time I put it back on the coffee table.

25th

I didn't think it would happen this quickly, but I'm becoming more French every day. It's back to the Bonnie on Sunday, though. It's odd that I'm still sleeping a lot and experiencing exhausted moments; my B12 injection is scheduled for later this month. This evening, Vince and I took an eastern walk along the riverside. Along the way, I found a walnut tree.

The roadway terminated shortly prior to a river fork. Vincent climbed a willow tree; it's great to see men having fun doing manly things.

Sunset was beautiful, and my phone camera seemed to make it look even better, even though I hadn't used any digital filters on the app.⁣

24th

A mosquito and a large meat fly have been bothering me throughout the night. I have been having weird dreams of people visiting, particularly at Vince's house, and I am unable to fall asleep.

Today I feel rested, and this morning I'm thinking fondly of eating mussels and fries with the lovely French family yesterday. Being with them fed my French soul!

Remembering the good times with family and friends is good for the soul, and it also helps us understand how different things really are.

It is imperative to maintain control over anger and hatred; no one should be able to manipulate or elicit reaction from us. The residents of Wervik have been tapped, and there are lots of winks and nods. The window's reflection is dimmed by a photograph of Anne Frank.

Yesterday, I went for a walk through the center of Wervik. The streets were very quiet, and some people were acting in strange ways. In a sandwich shop, they gave each other dirty looks while African socialist hymns played.

There are big, oppressive crucifixes all over this place, and there is a house on the road that is decorated with images of Mary. Neighbors are unfriendly and edgy; however, they are credited with not displaying a single fake smile. Received numerous phone calls from an Albanian man named Richard, who appeared to believe that we could have a future together. Last night, I was nervous because my neighbors were yelling and a car had been waiting for hours outside my friend's house.

23rd

I awoke in my tent to the gentle rapping of raindrops on plastic. Sleep was disrupted but restrained by fatigue. After midnight, I heard a camp bed opening up next to my tent, which was very strange.

I set up my tent a few yards from a water tower on a steep hillside in Saint Etienne au Mont. In the morning, I strolled through the village before departing. Locals appeared as though they had been tapped.

Was going to walk to the highway, but there were three ways to get there behind a pay barrier, so I chose to take the road instead.

Before I got a lift, I walked for four hours uphill, downhill, and along an endless stretch of a busy road. Mom and son took me to their house, where I ate a classic and delectable French meal of mussels and fries. I was given a lift to Lile by the son and his sister after coffee, but I stopped at Armentieres and took a quicker route back to Wervick. After receiving a lift from a woman who brought me very close to Vince's door, I got to Wervik an hour early. After spending two hours by the river, I have yet to receive a response to my texts. He promised to assist me yesterday, which is why I returned to this location; however, all attempts to reach him have been unsuccessful. It is now 7 pm, so it is too late to move. Need to find a place to stay the night in Wervik. Ten minutes after seven o'clock at night, I received a text from a friend, so I went to his house. He has kindly offered to provide accommodation for a few more days until my money comes through to my bank.

22nd

As Vince left for work this morning, I said goodbye. He said, "See you in Scotland," but I doubt he will get in touch with me there. When I thanked him for his hospitality, he laughed, which made me a little sad. It's morning, and I'm going back to the UK for two reasons: first, my French family never got to know me, and second, I need medical care for some health problems. It's not what I want to do, but I have no choice. Proceed from Wervik, crossing the bridge into Wervik-sud. I went to Lille by taking the A25 past Comines. Women gave me the first and second lifts, which took me to Comines and Armentires.

A second individual, who purportedly worked in the music industry, provided me with transportation. He dropped me off on a motorway slip road outside of Dunkerque. I was dropped off at a few junctions to the south in a work van.

Due to ferry fares, the Romanian truck driver refused to drive me across the channel and instead took me to the port of Calais. Trying to sneak onto the ferry wasn't going to work, so I walked over to the ticket office and discovered they wanted 45 euros.

With six Euros in my pocket, I resolved to stroll through the town center of Calais in search of a meal.

This place had some wonderful buildings, very pretty

As I sped up my walking, I made stops at a grocery store and a supermarket, where I bought an avocado and a tasteless shredded salmon sandwich. I discovered a fort at Calais' southern edge.

I tried to get some rest and clear my mind.⁣

I told people online about my problem and asked for help. They all said no, and one person just ignored me and didn't answer. Later, it was determined to abandon Calais due to safety concerns.

Continuing to stroll southward along a footpath, I passed through a retail park and a village until I reached a roundabout. This roundabout was not your typical roundabout; it was equipped with a Channel Tunnel drill.

The first ride was from a man who couldn't understand a word I said. He dropped me off in a parking lot outside of Marquise. I used the remaining two euros to buy some much-needed fruit juice from Lidls.

My last lift of the day came from a man who gave me a brief tour of Bologne while playing dance music in his car before dropping me off in the town center.

I was walking through the port at sunset when I arrived here.

Towards a pier.

Past a port building / lookout tower.

To take a sunset picture at the end of the pier.

I walked along the river as I left Boulogne. It took a long time to walk through an industrial estate on a long road in Saint Leonard's before reaching Saint Etienne au Mont.

21st

I'm leaving Belgium today to return to the UK tomorrow. On that day, Vince and I visited Lepers.

Streets of Lepers were empty.

The yearly Leper car rally got a lot of attention.

The Menin Gate Memorial for the Missing was enormous.

Visited the museum dedicated to war.

The relics of the sadistic, insane Lawrence of Arabia were discovered.⁣

Watched a film.

And viewed some art.

I found that the soldiers drew out numbers in order to wager on who would cross the trenches.

After leaving the museum, we took a tour of the lepers before driving to Wervik. I liked being in leper with Vince because I wasn't tired.

20th

On Monday, I will leave Belgium and resume my journey to Scotland. I'm having trouble concentrating because I have an infection in my face that keeps coming back.

17th

I crossed the border to indulge in coffee in Wervik-sud.

An individual of African descent pursued me across the border from Belgium. He greeted the cafe owner, who never addressed me, and they exchanged greetings. The bartender has been cordial, although he has appeared cautious in his interactions with the black man, possibly due to his apprehension of being identified as a racist. Today the black guy spoke to me in Pidgeon English. It was unclear to me whether this individual was a joker or simply dishonest. First, he requested employment as a translator, and subsequently announced that he intended to visit a family in Glasgow, which to him was situated by the sea.

Crossing over the bridge into the Belguim part of Comines.

I entered a bar and ordered a glass of white wine. Subsequently, another individual wearing a crucifix approached me.

As I quickly finished my drink and walked further into the Belgium part of Comines, a dirty old man came up to me and asked for sex by sticking his thumb between his fingers.

Before leaving to find another bar, I cursed at the man. I went into another bar and was greeted by an Albanian man while I ordered white wine. He enjoyed playing pool and emerged victorious in two of the three rounds. His regulations necessitated that the black ball be placed indirectly, which was enjoyable. I met more and more people as the evening went on, and I was given fries and mayonnaise as a welcome gift from Belgium. The patrons of the bar were grounded and valued their authenticity. There was a group of Muslims listening in on my conversation, but they didn't buy any drinks and stayed seated. Later a group of us were occupied and questioned by another group of Muslims at another bar. As the evening progressed, we exited the bar and halted at an unwelcoming off-license. I was compelled to purchase beverages from a group of extremely creepy Muslims. I slept on white guy's couch while he cooked me food before I went to sleep.

16th

I crossed the border between France and Belgium again to have coffee at a car/bar in Warvik-sud.

The black man who followed me over the border was driving a vehicle from Belgium. I am convinced that I have seen his face before.⁣

Unmoved I kept drinking in the cafe before going back into Belgium via a trip to the supermarket.

Returning, I noticed the Alpha corpse cult, Critical Religious Theory brainwashing the Christians of Wervik-sud.

Later I took a walk with Vince along a riverside path. We walked past a windmill located beside a tobacco museum.

I am and have been sleeping on the couch at Vince’s, we are friends, nothing more.

15th

I was awoken in my tent by parks police, he said something in French before leaving, I thought it would be good idea to pack up and go.

Along the road back into Bethune I saw somebody sleeping rough.

I drew 250 euros from a cash machine, this is toy town money, and there is zero energy exchange.

After another walk about Bethune, I found an open-air street market, purchased leggings, batteries and oranges, then entered a bar and ordered a glass of white wine.

But even in this bar I was followed by a bearded man who had previously followed me into a cafe an hour before.

After an hour I decided to walk north out of the town. I had to walk about twelve miles before a woman offered to drive me to Lile. Lile looked a lot like London, which made me nervous enough to require a walk out of the city, ten miles later I walked into Belgium. As I stroleld through Wevik, a white punk named Vince offered me a place to stay, and I said yes.

14th

The trip to the ferry terminal ticket office was brief, and the driver only needed to present my passport to the ferry company in order to receive the ticket. ⁣

When I got on the ferry after midnight, I was relieved to find that only the car, not the people in it, was charged for the crossing.

We entered the eerie ferry, went outside to the deck, and took a seat on a bench. The family of Jewish individuals sat across from me, taking selfies. A lone black man passed by, sat, and gazed at me. I was relieved when my friend announced that it was time to depart. So that I could sleep comfortably, he drove me fourteen miles south of Calais.

I came across a farm and saw two women eating by the entrance. I approached them and asked for water; they filled my bottle and offered food. We talked for a while before I left.

An angry French man dropped me off on the road to Calais outside of Marquise, declaring, "We don't want you're trouble here." This was my first ride in France. I noticed my father's love of ammonites on a poster.

Many cars came, stopped, and left without offering a ride. It seems that the French only think about short distances near their home; anything farther away is too far away for them to consider. Following a ten-mile walk, I approached a vehicle that was sufficiently coherent to provide me with a ride to Guines.

Then a lift to Bethune.

Oh look, another carillon, loved the sweetness of the bells.

Sometimes, I contemplate the possibility of being the most depressed individual alive, or perhaps I am already deceased, having been killed in India and am currently experiencing a Jacobs Ladder-type situation. Nothing seems real when your cognitive processes are blinded. I want to kill myself, but I'm not sure how, when, or where to do it. Request the guidance of my ancestors in order to identify a secure exit.⁣

When I realised that only the dead walk with me, I let go of the living. They believe I go to places to locate my estranged family members who are still alive, but I actually go to talk to the dead because I am dead to the living. I feel as though I have been abandoned without hope, and I foolishly mourn the eternal emptiness that fills my stomach with a huge, dark void of loss. It has been so psychologically vindictive and shameful that I am feeling at ease in the dark, cold darkness of despair. Seated within the square to alleviate my fatigued legs.

People sitting outside bars made fun of my presence in Bethune as I strolled around. A woman approached me, sat down, opened some fish and chips, and began eating them in front of me while I was restless and hungry. My family once lived in this Bethune, but this was no longer the same town they knew. Walked out of Bethune as human waste, but I discovered a small woodland park where I pitched my tent by a lake. Waited on a bench until anxiety levels decreased sufficiently to allow for rest.⁣

13th

Today I woke in Rothiemurchus woodland, a dog tripped flat faced on one of my tents guy ropes and nearly broke the pole. I walked back to the A9 and hitched for about 5 minutes before a lift stopped. So now I am my way to France. Accident just north of Wetherby, waited an hour for the A1 to clear.

On the A1 I met a man at a garage who was there to meet another guy to purchase a puppy. The M25 was closed, we rerouted along the north circular but somehow ended up crossing the River Thames by Canary Wharf.

12th

Hitched a ride out of Glamis to Blairgowie from a middle age man wanting to talk about alternative music. Found little Oak / Pine copse to rest just west of Blairgowie; I’m feeling very run down so resting more often than usual.

I know its not pernicious anemia because I amnit due another b12 injection until september. On a positive a lot of fluid has disappeared from my lungs since leaving the Northeast highland coast; phenomena?

Keep telling myself I am not going back into Blairgowie.

Two lifts took me to Dunkeld, 1st was a young woman meeting her boyfriend, 2nd was from a taxi driver; she dropped me west of Dunkeld so had to walk the gaunlet of the shops.

One lift from Dunkeld to west side of Pitlochry, then an hours wait until a lift to Aviemore came from a friendly family.

Now in Aviemore picking up supplies, gas, tent pegs, food for the weekend, although I am expecting to travel rather than scale the Cairngorms.

I mostly do that in the winter; no adders.

11th

Ballater had scarecrows everywhere.

Ballater Highland Games.

This was weird, the organisers made their presence when I paid the last ten pounds I had for an entrance ticket. The games were large, could not get a decent view of the competitors.

The games were scotching, an elderly woman collapsed with the heat by a donut van, stewards move people on from the little amount shade they could find.

Why could they not errect a marque to provide essential shade for those who had paid for tickets that inevitably made the event happen? The heatwave had been going on for weeks, however their was one tap of “free cold water” for the overcrowded event but no toilets despite a beer tent. At 3pm I walked out, at the edge of Ballater, a steward in charge of the roads, radioed me in to who I do not know.

First lift was to Aboyne, second lift to Bancory. Four people followed me trying to talk me out of walking, offering bus fare but I was to run down tired to care. Next lift took me to Peterculter, here I walked up a long brae before acquiring a lift to Stonehaven from some very strange guy who asked me for my phone number. Then next took hours to arrive but came from an elderly walker on her way down to Fofar. She bought me some food before parting, I crossed a busy duel carriageway towards Glamis. By the time I got to Glamis I was much to tired to care where I pitched my tent, choosing to sleep in the village on a patch of grass beside a sun dial. Nobody approached my tent during the night.

10th

Woke up early in morning with field mice trying to chew my ground sheet apart. Pitched just by Gretna Green services after failing to get another lift North past 10pm. Field I camped in.

Waited an hour for a lift, a Glaswegian stopped and took me to Clydebank, gave me food, drink and busfare onto Balloch.

So I viewed south side of Loch Lomond.

Hitchhiked a lift to Stirling.

Enjoyed a walk through a familar lane.

Then hitched a lift to Stonehaven, walked through the Ury Estate.

Hitched two lifts, first to Bancory, second lift took me west of Aboyne, dropped me upon the footpath to Ballater. Watched the moon and travel through the brae.

Walked Seven miles along the Deeside way into Ballater, and pitched my tent near the Highland games.