August 2022

31st

Leaving the Buckfast tonic wine monster after I have made myself some breakfast. Was kept awake all last night with esculating intimidation. I thought there was a human underneath somewhere but he’s far too gone to reach.

I walked to the seafront and took some pictures.

Tired, miserable and disgusted.

Spent my last money on a tin of French onion soup from supermarket in Ayr. I hitched out via a lift from a guy going to London. He’s dropped me at Southwaite services were I am debating whether to go south towards Keswick, or North back into Scotland, maybe walk the southern upland way for a wee few days.

I decided to head North, and picked up a lift from a trade plater who dropped me off at 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 said he was going to Glasgow so we arranged me to be dropped at Hamilton services, he suggested another road then reavled he was going to Oban. I asked to go there and he agreed to take me. The trip was about 100 miles and we drove along the West side of Loch Lomond. He was good company, full of stories and a seasoned traveller. Arriving in Oban he offered a bed on his spare room for the night. We drank beer before ending the day.

30th

Woken at sunrise on a cluttered sofa inside a council flat in Wallace Town to my friend playing UVF sectarian songs (do you do a chicken supper Bobby Sands etc). What a culture shift from Belgium, less than 48hrs ago. Messages are still going through my head, tired of them telling me about “no to do things that are destroying me”.

Went back to sleep, catch up on the hours I missed at Hemel Hempstead. Woke at 11am, my Buckfast tonic wine pal is detoxing and in a terrible state. As I approach 50 I am realising rest is becoming increasingly important.

This afternoon my Buckfast tonic wine pal gave me a 10mg diazepam tablet to chill me out, it just induced a groggy five-hour sleep but at least I have a break from the endless messages. Although my friend is drinking I am not, need a rest from the alcohol. At the service station I noticed I was suffering from mania so asked for some help to slow my mind down a bit, Valium and Heroin weren’t what I intended.

29th

Was kept awake most of the night by people walking down a dark lane between 2am and 5am within the darkest hours of night! The rough ground Inlay upon was a mixed blessing in that its was uncomfortable enough to keep me alert to creepy passers by. Disturbed I had not put up my.tent that night as I did not be wanting to stay in the area beyond sunrise. Walking back to the motorway I came across this ugly repressive art on Hemel Hempstead roundabout is absolutely horrid.

My first lift was from an sleepy Asian man who had just finished a nightshift. He dropped me at junction 9 of the M1. I waited here for over an hour until a man from highways agency came and gave me a lift to Toddington Services. Next lift came from a polish man, he took me to Newport Pagnell services.

Another lift came from a half Italian man who drove me to Wethby services.The entire area was crammed packed with revellers from Leeds festival. The next lift came from a white guy named Martin, he took me 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.

Here I was picked up and given a lift over the length of the A66, north long the M6 and into Southwaite services. Across the Scottish border I was given a lift from a female driver who went out her way to drop me at my friends flat in Ayr.

28th

Woke up covered in sore mosquito bites. They are coming from an open-top rainwater collection drum that Vince uses to flush the toilet because he desires to conserve tap water.

I tried to tell him that mosquito’s were breeding in the drum but whatever I said went right over his head. He is intelligent but has a quiet demeanour that on first glance appears aloof. Today I have run out of data allowance so blog updates may not be posted for a while, unless I can raise credit or find WiFi access. I did have 20 pounds credit but data roaming charges erased this in just under one day!

This morning I left the house and went to cafe and was invited by a Belgium woman to sit with her. We drank coffee and talked about life, about problems we have both endured with systematic, defacing alienation.

An hour later I took a walk by the riverside and found a park where people played bowls. Here I enjoyed a Fromage baguette whilst learning the rules of this game they were playing.

I returned to the house and enjoyed a late breakfast, in half an hour I will be in a car heading for Calais, purchasing a ticket and float over to Dover. I intend to hitchike directly to Scotland, stopping only to pick up medicine. We left at 3 pm and arrived at the ferry ticket office where I and Vince parted company. Vince parted, I purchased a ticket for 48 Euros and seated myself on a bench outside.

I re-entered the ticket office to view a historic channel crossing flight exhibition.

There was another exhition about the construction of the Calais port, above that, on the third floor was a viewing platform.

I looked back at France and wept from my soul, my family had so much history there, estranged by my g-grandmother Leonie Blaire. A shuttle bus took me and other passengers to passport control. I was reminded by British customs to sign my passport, going through for me was easy but I overheard other passengers being questioned about their visit to the UK.

I walked around an empty ferry as the first to board were foot passengers; the exchange machine swapped £1 for a mere 52p in Euros; think I will keep hold of them for now. And about to exit the ferry at a Dover, I so did not want to return to the UK, does it show?

Walked out of Dover and onto the A2 roundabout and have now thumbed a lift from a white van with a Muslim family. My Scots friend thinks I am crazy getting into the back of a van and suggested they could be cannibals, but I know I’m safe. They dropped me at Medway services. Hitchhiking ended at Hemel Hempstead with a lift from a Romanian couple who had just gotten married. They dropped me off at a service station at 1:30 am, the area was unnerving so I walked a mile or so and lay my head on a quiet patch of grass beside some garages.