September 2022

30th

I woke up to a storm that started at around three in the morning and was rocking my tent. There are tick bites on my body, but I am most aware of two around my left forearm. My tent was set up next to Kylesku Bridge.

Vibrant green, single-person dome tent pitched on a grassy hillside. The tent is slightly angled, its entrance facing the viewer. Around the base of the tent lie a few items of camping gear: a dark-coloured backpack or duffel bag, a bright lime green bag (possibly a dry bag or stuff sack), and other indistinct smaller items. There's no person visible. The scene is set in a dramatic, rugged landscape. The hillside is covered in lush, short, slightly overgrown green grass, typical of a coastal region. In the background, a large concrete bridge sweeps across a calm, dark-grey-blue body of water, stretching from the lower left to the middle right of the frame, curving gently. Beyond the water, there are rolling green and brown hills under a pale grey, overcast sky.
Interior of a two-toned tent. A vibrant orange section occupies the bottom and right, while a muted olive-green section takes up the left and upper portion. The tent fabric is slightly wrinkled and textured, visible only from the inside looking out. The tent’s edges frame the scene, acting as a natural border. The grass immediately outside the tent is tall, dry-looking, and golden-brown in patches, with hints of late-summer wildflowers.
Serene, expansive landscape dominated by a body of water, likely a loch or fjord. The foreground is occupied by the calm, dark-grey-blue water, its surface subtly rippled. The mid-ground shows a narrow waterway, separating two landmasses. In the background, rolling hills and mountains form a rugged coastline. No people or other animals are visible. The scene is set under an overcast sky, a uniformly pale grey with no visible sun. The light is diffuse and soft, lacking harsh shadows, contributing to a muted, somewhat melancholic ambiance. The color palette is predominantly muted earth tones: dark greens on the vegetation-covered hills, the grey-blue of the water, and the pale grey of the sky. The mountains in the distance are a blend of muted greens, browns, and greys.
Long, curved concrete bridge, its structure arcing gracefully downwards from the upper-right towards the center of the image. The bridge's supports are a striking, stark grey, forming a distinct X-shaped pattern beneath the road. The bridge is positioned against a backdrop of land, suggesting it spans a waterway. There are no people or vehicles visible on or near the bridge. The foreground is composed of dark, textured rocks along the water's edge. The water itself is the main space of the image, filling most of the lower two-thirds. The scene is set in a rugged, coastal landscape. The land in the background is a tapestry of dark green and brown, hinting at vegetation typical of a cool, possibly Northern climate. The hills are softly rounded, displaying a natural, untamed aesthetic. The sky is a flat, light grey, indicating an overcast day. The overall lighting is soft and diffused, devoid of harsh shadows.

Even though it was raining horizontally, I took some pictures.

Landscape featuring a gently sloping, heather-covered hill in the foreground. This hill is predominantly composed of muted browns and russets, interspersed with patches of dull, grayish-green grass. A large, light gray boulder, weathered and irregular in shape, sits prominently in the mid-ground of the foreground hill. In the far background, there are two hazy, indistinct telephone poles standing near the water's edge. The scene is set in a remote, mountainous region, likely coastal, given the presence of a body of calm, dark gray-blue water. The water, nestled between imposing, hazy mountain ranges, stretches from the mid-ground to the horizon. These mountains appear soft and indistinct due to a heavy mist or light rain, their shapes barely defined by the diffuse light. The overall colour palette is subdued and muted, characterised by various shades of grey, brown, and green, creating a monochromatic feel dominated by cool tones. The lighting is diffuse and even, lacking sharp shadows or strong highlights due to the overcast sky. The atmosphere is damp and cool, suggested by the misty air.

The first lift arrived promptly and was provided by a polite male 4x4 driver. While driving me to Lairg, I made a pit stop at the petrol station and purchased a 50p bar of chocolate, which was the entirety of my budget. The next lift came from a truck driver who told me he stopped only because it was raining and spoke nonstop to Invergordon.

Older man with short, light gray hair and glasses, seated behind the driver's seat of a dark gray SUV. He's wearing a dark-coloured, long-sleeved shirt and appears to be adjusting or holding the headrest of the passenger seat. His expression is somewhat serious, even slightly strained. In the back of the SUV is a dark-colored dog, possibly a mix breed, contained within a wire dog crate. The dog is positioned towards the back of the crate, facing slightly towards the camera. It seems relatively calm. The SUV's interior is largely dark-coloured, with black seat covers. There are various items scattered in the back, including a pair of white sneakers and what appears to be a small, brightly colored item (possibly a bag or towel). A partially visible, crushed aluminium can sits on the car floor near the driver’s side.
Rear of a dark-grey or brownish-grey Mitsubishi Shogun Sport SUV. The vehicle is parked, slightly angled to the right, on a tarmac road. The license plate, DV56 LMK, is prominently displayed in a bright yellow rectangle. Several stickers adorn the rear window: one advertising Seafield Mitsubishi, a dealership in Inverness, and another highlighting the industry's contribution of 50,000 jobs. A tow hitch is visible beneath the rear bumper. The car appears to be slightly wet or dusty. The setting is outdoors, on a road with a faint white line marking a possible lane or pedestrian area. In the background, there’s blurred greenery suggesting trees and possibly a woodland area. The road is dark grey asphalt, with small stones and gravel visible closer to the camera. A section of light red/pink tarmac can be seen further away.

Three times from this layby on the A9, I tried to hitch but failed. The first and second lifts only went to. During the third lift, an elderly pervert halted and seized my arm before requesting a kiss. This was quite disturbing. I got a picture of him and his license plate number. The fourth lift transported me to Inverness, where the driver, an individual in his early 60s from Dornoch, was en route to purchase Christmas gifts for his family. He inquired about my last meal and then gave me thirty pounds to buy supplies, so I treated myself to a large coffee at Starbucks and took a break from the pouring rain. Due to a collision between two lorries, A9 was closed, resulting in a fatality, as I was informed. A pervert driver gave me a lift, dropping me off at least ten miles before the town of Granton on Spey after expressing naked fantasies and asking if I had shaved my public hair.

Long, dark asphalt road stretching into the distance. It's a two-lane road with a single white line marking the center. The road is slightly wet, creating subtle sheen. On the left side of the road, there's a small, partially visible information board or signpost nestled amongst tall, green grass. This suggests a roadside stop or trail head. There are no vehicles or people present in the image. The road is bordered on both sides by dense coniferous forests. On the left, the trees are slightly closer to the road creating a lush, dark green wall. On the right, the forest is a bit further away with a strip of sun-kissed tall grass in between the road and the trees, creating a contrast in color and texture. The background reveals a clear blue sky, only slightly clouded, giving a sense of depth and space.

I was glad to leave this area when I was given a lift to Aviemore by an atheist man. After buying gas for my camping stove, I walked to the A9 to get another lift. I requested another ride from a woman who was en route to Glasgow, and she dropped me off on the south side of the city. After an hour a Ukrainian stopped and gave lift to Bothwell services but stopped illegally on the M74 hard shoulder. I have painful tick bites all over my body and should go to A&E because I'm sick.

29th

I found myself saying my thoughts out loud, as if they were desperately trying to get my attention through broken understanding and compartmentalized cognition.

Tent pitched beside, the river Helmsdale, before Helmsdale bridge.

Helmsdale's sunrise over the sea.

Took a walk around Helmsdale Harbour.

And made a hot drink.

I walked south over the bridge and talked to a dog walker who gave me £10 to get something to eat. I hitched a lift to Thurso from an NHS IT consultant, and along the way, we passed a wind farm.

At Thurso, I walked to a cafe van and purchased a breakfast roll and a cup of tea. She appeared not to recognise me but I’d been and had breakfast there once before.

My mother was a geordie, from South Shields.

Walked into the port of Scrabster.

And found Holborn Light house.

Looking back from the emptiness I felt only chilling wrath projected at forgetful Thurso, disheartened by this morbid town of reprobates.

I asked and received a fill of my water flask from a wood carver before joining the main road to hitch a lift towards Tongue. The road was narrow and traffic travelled fast making this a dangerous endeavour. I was given a lift from a French NC500 tourist to Tongue.

Then given a lift from an Ayrshire NC500 tourist who drove me all the way to Kylesku Bridge, where I pitched my tent for the night.

28th

Thought I heard tent poles being put together in the vicinity of my tent during the unearthly early hours of this morning, at around 4 am. This is the time when the majority of patients die inside hospitals, in slumber from their projection. Took these early morning pictures whilst out of my tent for a pee, baring my ass to the cold north wind.

My tent pitched by Durnoch Beach.

I am deliberating whether or not to return to Dornoch this morning, there is a local history museum I wish to visit. A man from the golf club came via 4×4 and said “I’ll give you half an hour to go, people play golf here”; I won’t be returning to Dornoch, my tent is by the edge of a beach, no problem to them.

As I walked away from the area, half a mile along the coastal path I noticed they sprayed the course boundaries with red paint. Expecting a lot of people to come by this way I thought. The walk along the beach was airy, with so much reflection and space.

I walked around the coastline turning into Loch Fleet.

I stopped at a bench to eat breakfast.

After enjoying a tin of Scotch broth I recommenced my journey across the shore of Loch Fleet.

A man bird-watching caught up from behind, we talked for five minutes about golf courses encroaching upon wild habitats. He told of a plan (by American businessmen) to create another golf course alongside Loch Fleet but, thankfully, had been successfully countered by local environmentalist groups. His group was named “not cool”.

Along the lane I met a man in a Viking van, he had the Vegvisir painted on the rear door; I popped my head around and said hi.

There were so many wild mushrooms along this trail.

I walked over a bridge running the width of Loch Fleet.

And then up a steep incline to hitch north from a T junction.

The first lift of the day came from a woman going to Golspie, she was on her way to an electric bike event being held at a local race track so I went there with her. Arriving, after signing a form I got to test drive some bikes.

There were many special bikes for people requiring extra assistance. I tried a three-wheeler, a tandem (the first time I rode one), an electric mountain bike, and a low-down racing bike. Bought tears to my eye to be doing something substantial. I walked through Golspie and stopped at a grocery and crystal shop. Along the seafront, a creepy man encroached on a custom-made electric bike. He had not been at the race track yet stopped, talked about Christianity, and then requested to shake my hand. He offered me his phone number but I refused it. He told of a castle further along the coast.

Towards the end of Golspie I came across the Big burn trail.

I unsuccessfully tried to find Golspie Tower, but found more fungi.

Eventually found my way back to the A9 and hitched a lift north from a female estate agent. I don’t know. If she didn’t like me or just liked herself to much, but offered the used of a lawn adjacent to Helmsdale community centre where she said she was attending an AGM.

I was in my tent at 8 pm and fell asleep an hour later, my mind too tired and confused to write a blog entry.

27th

Woke up in my tent on Moffat nature reserve, last night was uncomfortable and cold, need more warm layers of clothing.

Leaving the tent the wind chill touches the bones in my hands, rolling up a damp tent is slightly enduring, even after all these years of rambling I still shake a little at a mildly daunting daily task. The view of the lake was invigorating.

Waited three hours for a lift at Moffat M74 junction before a lift came to Perth, the driver was a later 50’s man travelling north to work on the wind turbines. I entered Broxten services and ate a late lunch then walked to the infamous roundabout. Police usualy come, either tell me to go back to the services or give me a lift to the next junction.

I hitched from Broxden road about successfully without getting moved on by police; a man stopped, I travelled with him as far as the bridge north of Tain. The next lift came quickly, we added by his wife along the way towards Durnoch, he said she’d ring right away, and she did just that. This is a very pretty little place, my phone camera did a little justice here.

I pitched my tent by the coast early in the evening to rest my spirit upon sea.

26th

Strong rain pouring down over my tent this morning; its 7am and still waiting for sopping downpour to stop. Wall climbimg intruders were in and out the garden up until midnight; including somebody smashing metal at 11pm! Water bottle I left on outside table has moved 20 yards without any wind.

Almost thirty pounds were missing from my bank account this morning; have to query that later with Nationwide. The keypad on their cash machine was covered in blood.

Lots of run-down pubs up North, and commercial buildings are not illegal to squat BTW.

My first lift came from an Indian Hindu man, he drove me into Preston. My first visit was to a phone shop to get my P30 phone fixed, but two hours later my phone was still u repaired as the “replacement” screen was faulty! By luck I walked into a pub that I had spent time in before just before the lockdown. A gay Chinese student entered the pub later on in the evening, he was trying loads of drinks and the barman was happy to serve him. We talked for an hour before he realized he should be going home.

I left the pub ajar and unhappy, I did not want to face off the cold evening, feeling unwell. The walk to the M6 was short but seems long, I stopped at Shell garage named the tickled trout for a sugary fizzy drink. The cashier was horrid, whispering in his workmates ear some obscenity. A man in the que had seen me hitchhiking and offered a lift. He took me to Southwaite M6 services. The surrounding fields adjacent to the motorway services had livestock in them, there was no visible places to pitch my tent so chose to hitchhike onwards. It was at least an hour before a sporty BMW coupe stopped and offered me a lift, he took me to Moffat M74 roundabout. I deliberated going to Dumfries but had no desire to hitchhike after midnight. Two options were left and being nearest I chose to pitch my rent at Moffat nature reserve. Getting the tent up was a struggle in the starlit darkness, Because I had previously rolled up my tent with my head torch inside. I lay my head disturbed, my body shook mildly as I passed out with exhaustion.

25th

We left the house at around midnight for the A30. We stopped in many parking laybys either for the toilet, or something else. I checked my balance at Taunton Deane services but nothing had gone in. My friend Koala did not want to go to Bedford via M42 but instead chose the A420, A34, M40, A43 etc.

We got to Uffington White Horse car park just after 5 am. I made haste to make the ascent to the hill fort, to try and get whatever sleep I could from what was left of this sleepless, drawn-out night. I woke inside my tent, overhearing puns about me being camped there as they passed by my tent.

At Worcester M5 junction I viewed a weird rainbow formation in the clouds. Got a lift from Worcester from some Christian people heading towards Wigan. I thought them a bit "happy clap" by the way they began introducing each other to me. But went along with the fun, because I won’t get another lift this long tonight! I don’t fear this sort of thing but don’t think that I am seen with means that I am part, to do with it. The christian people did not take me into Wigan but rather into a suburb named Ashton-in-Makerfield.

These Christian people were from a church named “Lighthouse”. They liaised over the phone with a vicar’s wife (sue) gaining consent for me to put up my tent in their garden. After only five minutes in this garden I was visited by people, they have been walking the perimeter of the garden fence for at least two hours now. Its gone past midnight, rain is pouring down over my tent canvass, and I am not going anywhere till dawn; anyhow activity seems to have abated now.

24th

Feeling much better this morning, but in hindsight, I have not noticed the determination of my central nervous system until I began to become well again. The injection lasts 10 weeks, not the 12 weeks claimed so a couple of weeks before the jab is due I begin to suffer from Pernicious Anaemia; this occasion displayed symptoms of confusion, hazing of cognition, and a slowed staggered projection. In the afternoon I felt unwell and rested whilst my friend continued his woodcarving. A friend of a friend came around a gob shite acquaintance who I have known almost as long as my friend. I was once invited by Carol to her old place, his father’s house, there he offended hospitality by verbally belittling Carol in front of me, he tried this (being anti-French) with his dad who was not impressed with him.

23rd

Woke early with a sore chest but craving a cigarette, I need to cut down on smoking and maybe stop, along the road ahead I will accomplish this. Today’s dawn is the beginning of the autumnal equinox, plants begin to shed their foliage. Late afternoon I journeyed to the doctor’s surgery and received my B12 injection from a creepy nurse named Emily; I checked her name badge to see if her surname was “Strange”. I began to feel well within minutes, a rise of wellness that lasted through the night. In the evening I helped clean my friend’s house and washed a few dirty clothes whilst my friend began his chainsaw carving. My new dress got torn loading and offloading wood and metal from my friend’s van, very disappointed with that. I also refused an offer to drink alcohol, having just received my B12 jab hours earlier.

22nd

Been out with my friend Koala in his van today… we visited his displaced friend who had made a strip (adjacent to a public layby) his home.

In the evening I visited Carol, she asked for some headache pills, reverberating a previous visiting request. Her home (a shoe box flat converted from a terrace house) was exactly the same as eight months ago which made me notice I had changed. She had also changed landing a nursing job and a “red and black” company car. She borrowed money and drove us to Tesco. Later she cooked dinner, we watched a true story serial killer film on Netflix (also a red and black logo) before she requested I leave. I had already planned to go, but allowed the end of the film before I left, when our eyes met, I knew we would not be close friends in the future; maybe from a past that I could not remember but vaguely recalled. The walk back to my friend’s house was brisk, entering I was welcomed to a warm wood fire and handed a can of Thatcher’s cider. We sat up and talked for a couple of hours until my friend could no longer stay awake. I attempted to remain awake until 2 am (autumnal equinox) but fell asleep on his couch an hour later at 12:30 am.

20th

Had peaceful nights sleep, but nobody came near my tent that I was aware of.

Autumnal colours of Ideless were verdant, who turned up the contrast this morning?

I made my way into Truro whilst unsuccessfully trying to arrange an appointment to see my doctor. On the way, I called in to see an old friend, his dog has been poisoned but seemed to be recovering. At the surgery, I managed to wrangle an appointment within the next few days rather than in a fortnight.

In the afternoon I hung around the Daubuz moor nature reserve. I met a bald man enjoying the nature reserve with his family, he remembered me from my BMX riding, and said Truro was a better place for me to be in it; I told him I was done here and that I now lived in Scotland. He enquired what Scottish people wore underneath their kilts, I replied “nothing”.

I do not want to be in Truro, I lived here alone and hapless for eighteen long months and have had enough of it. I am planning on staying one night with my friend, then hitchhiking around and in a few days, returning for my appointment, then getting the hell out. I find this city insulting and arrogant, excluding a small number of people I could count on my fingers. In the evening I visited a friend and ended the day sleeping on his living room couch. We talked about our travels in Europe, and the bizarre degeneracy in South Africa since apartheid came down. He encouraged me to contact some friends I had not spoken to for a while, but I only successfully contacted one of two.

19th

Footsteps were walking so close to my tent that they dissolved my wild phobia of people, cheers Stonehenge!

The morning mist placed Stonehenge above the clouds.

Today I plan to leave the drive and hitchhike out of the area. Happy I have made a few more friends. I started hitchhiking on the A303 at a roundabout south of Stonehenge and pulled over a lift as soon as I stuck out my. thumb. Probably in about 2 seconds, .my quickest-ever lift. I climbed into a small car on the radio the elderly male driver played 50’s music by the Shadows. He took me to the A30 Illminster roundabout.

Next to stop was an Asian man, his car was playing French radio, who said he had done charity work with migrants in Calais, and said the Jungle camp was pure trauma. He dropped me on the A38 driving me by one junction. The road was very quiet here, but after 20 mins a rock climber going to Bovey Tracy stopped his car.

From a roundabout by a fire station, I thumbed a lift to Moretonhampstead from Asian women. The next lift came from a vile Communist, he dropped me at A30 services near Okehampton. Here I ate lunch, soup and coffee; I talked to a man cleaning the service sign about magic mushrooms, many people have been talking about this recently.

Was taken to Newquay by chance when a couple stopped to negotiate who had chosen the right way; a sociopathic husband bullied her and made me feel sick. The final lift of the day came from a biker going to Trelisk hospital. He mentioned a new council estate being but in Camborne, only Birmingham city council had bought it and was transferring their housing list, accompanying this development a mosque is also being built. No homes in Cornwall for the Cornish people, wtf. Walked around the back of Trelisk and down a quiet lane, a woman stopped and asked if I was OK and if would I need a lift I replied “No”. The walk to Ideless woodland was steady; arriving at sundown at an area where I had initially planned to pitch my tent.

Decided to light a fire during a damp sundown, a shotgun blasted crows to the tree tops above me, welcome Odin I spoke as I retired to my tent for a quiet night’s sleep.

Chose a section of Scandinavian pine to make set up camp for the night, and enjoyed hot lentil soup but spilt tomato soup over the woodland floor.

18th

Woke up along the drove about 1/4 mile west of Stonehenge. Last night was cold again but this morning is pleasantly warm. Making cast contact with the stones I feel revitalised having spent the night here.

So happy to see this asshole leave the drove early this morning (before anybody got out their beds), other than his intrusive light show.

These bastards never had any history with me or anybody I know from time was living with the travellers or holding Gorsedd and/or Eisteddfod with Druids at Stonegenge. Our sun is gold, the moon is silver, and never was our sun coloured red.

My two friends were over the road in their white vans, as I exited the tent I noticed the canvass was dry on the inside but sopping on the outside from the Salisbury plains. My friend’s girlfriend parted early to go to a car boot sale with her friend.

She returned later on in the day, with three tins of soup and a loaf of bread for me. The day flew by and as noon approached I felt too tired to leave. Before pitching my tent again I took a walk up to Stonehenge to get a closer picture of the stones.

Returning to the woods I stopped by a truck, the occupant was a grey bearded elderly man named Christian Woods. He was sweet and pointing to his wood burner compassionately offered help if I need it. The second and last night I had dinner with my two new friends, we ate ginger cake by a log fire they had lit before I retired to my tent.