Leaving Cornwall

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 a crazy Christian cult heading towards Wigan. I knew they were nuts when 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 cult did not take me into Wigan but rather into a suburb named Ashton-in-Makerfield.

The cult members were from a church named “Lighthouse”; I did not believe them to be "strangers". 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 stalkers, 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.