May 2022

25th

I am now at a friend's house, I am going to be updating these pages and happy that I am in a safe environment for at least a few days. Today, withdrawals began from a Vitamin B12 injection I received three months ago. I began vomiting and suffered a quick onset of anaemia until my friend handed me some B12 tincture, which got me back onto my feet within the hour. I can see this maybe a real problem for me in the future.

24th

Woken tent pitched in Charlton king's are of Cheltenham, rolling up the sleeping mat many black bugs appeared, so I scrabbled to pick them up and throw them out of my tent. Happy I am to have found my hat at the bottom of my sleeping bag. Packed up my things and walked the footpath to Leckhampton hill. The walk was shunted by a closed footpath, walkers here are overall friendly, a lady stopped to talk to me, she had settled in Cheltenham from London. The ascent was easy along a rocky road, a tree had fallen down blocking access to the hill.

Three-quarter up the hill, the vista opened up.

Joining the Cotswold Way, a rugged golden path became smooth.

The view of Cheltenham was quite something at the top.

Look how verdant these tree leaves are.

The plinth at the summit was painted in different colours.

It hailed when I arrived at the western face, there is a stack there made by workers at the quarry that was once operating here. The moody grey sky arriving from a south-western direction punched hail stones onto walkers faces.

Leaving the hill, there were many pretty flowers.

I entered Crickley hill. Hungry, I rested and had lunch at Crickley hill's Wildlife trust café; the food was delicious.

I knocked the milk jar over because often I miss coordinate my hands, these accidents happen often due to suffering so much trauma.

Recent sightings = Adders :) and a cuckoo, :( how ironic. There was also an insect hotel they'd named Bugingham Palace.

The view from Crickley hill is quite something.

And a view of Crickley hill.

The walk past the Air Balloon pub was chocking with heavy traffic, I'm surprised the business manages to remain open; if it were not for the cranky clientele that frequent it. I took the path along the hillside to avoid Barrow Wake viewpoint, subjected to anti-social use by doggers and other creepy perverts.

The Cotswold way became awesome once more as I entered some woodland.

Something disturbing was going off in Buckholt woodland, but I found a pretty flower and took a photograph of it.

A few miles along the national footpath, I arrived at Painswick Beacon, which is the highest point in Gloucestershire; the Wysis Way crosses the Cotswold Way here also. Some person, probably local, had been severely offended by the dropping of litter.

Arriving onto the golf course, an elderly man with his wife approached. He attempted to rub my ego as he approached me, in an exacting same manner a climber approached me on the way to Ben MacDui summit, just a few days ago. He wanted to take some walking poles he'd made out of hazel and offered a lift into Painswick; I declined.

After walking past a quarry my map application on my mobile phone failed to load the Cotswold way after the village of Painswick but I found my way through OK, because I have been to this place before.

As 5pm approached I'd walked over sixteen miles; my feet had become sore from wearing in my new walking boots; I messaged my faery friend and she came and picked me up in her car; a mere 30 or so yards from the village of Edge.

I was glad to arrive at my faery friends house. The hot water of the shower running over my body calmed my quivering and a hot meal helped me rest for the night.

23rd

Last night was hot and muggy, I lay crippled with exhaustion, needing to raise my head and make a pillow but too tired to crunch up my clothes to raise my head. This morning I am very anxious. Packing away my tent, I noticed my hat was missing; I know I was wearing it when I put up my tent, but now I find it has completely disappeared this morning. I am suspecting the hat fell off my head as I was entering the tent, then it was taken during the night.

I found a café where I purchased a substantial vegetarian breakfast for only £5, the owner talked about how him and his partner had invested everything they had into the business. A step into the unknown that had been successful for four years since opening, despite financial anxieties about an uncertain future.

I purchased a ticket at Warwick parkway to Birmingham Moor Street (trains did not go to New Street from this station) for a mere £8. Walking up the stairs onto the platform, a countryside view unfolded.

I caught the train at 9.16am.

Arriving at Moor street, a lanky male Rastafarian, gave me a filthy look whilst stood on the train walkway. He placed his bag to the right of me and, looked as though he was attempting to find a button from the outside of the black canvass bag, was alarming. Still being early, I found a Witherspoon pub (the Square peg) and waited for my twitter friend to arrive.

Insane how many White males are homeless on the streets of Birmingham city centre, absolute disgrace. Most white males on the streets of Birmingham city centre are of white Norse origin. Had a nice day with my Twitter friend Maria, we went to some pubs and experienced Norwegian teenagers enjoying playing a circular chase game outside law courts, their passage circulated my soul and I felt akin to meet them, my people. I searched Birmingham city centre for a camping shop, but could only find Millets.

There were many walking boots for sale, after trying on a couple I settled for a brown pair of Berghuas at £135, that was reduced from £160. I also purchased two pairs of walking socks at £20. I left my old boots and socks in a bag, they smelled foul, the shop attendant offered to bin them for me.

The train arrived in Cheltenham spa in no time at all… Being first and only the train made.

I popped into a shabby pub named “the Midland”; an Asian man walked in, nodded to an overweight (bruiser style) bar maid, then left through a door marked “private”. Here, as I was talking on my phone, the bar maid turned the music up loud when I was on the phone and began speaking in an Irish accent (changing from a thick Gloucestershire accent). The first song that played was an Irish folk song that began with the lyrics “We don't care where you have been or what you have done”. After five minutes I realised they were playing IRA songs, I finished my pint of Coors larger and upon leaving, exiting I was insulted by a publican at the door. Arriving in Montpellier, I found a restaurant (Cote) and enjoyed French onion soup (my favourite) and a fish / potato dish. The waiter held back letting me have a table when I entered, but warmed after knowing there was a table available.

The rain hammered down as I left the restaurant, I walked along the park and entered a bar. The bar had a strange animosity present, and the whiskey (Dalmore) I usually order they claimed to no longer have stocked. Nearing ten o'clock, I exited and walked to Chalton Kings, I searched for a place to pitch my tent. Tired, I settled by the side of a cycleway, Although I can remember pitching my tent in the rain, I cannot remember going to sleep.

22nd

Woken at 6am, light rain moved over my tent, but I am dry. Last night, I pitched on Hartfell mountain because I desperately needed some undisturbed sleep to alleviate severe mental and physical exhaustion.

This morning I am rested, but as anticipated, the dew soaked me feet, socks and walking boots… so need a new pair!

Took a few pictures of the countryside on my way through Moffat towards the M74.

Walked straight through Moffat, and onto the M74 junction. The first lift took me to Penrith and was given by an elderly couple visiting friends in the lake district.