07 November, 2015


Flecks of spittle fling from my lip.
Every blink smears a foggy sheen on tired retinas, receding ever more reluctantly.
Ninety minutes in and sodden feelings begin to seep through cape, jacket, skin. Finding reddened flesh.

I look at nothing but see much, flitting past in peripherals. Damp fields, the drip from a hawthorn branch gliding downwards, impossibly slow, as I slither past. 
Profiles of faces in cars, warmer than mind but pale, lifeless. Bleak.

A gnawing permeates taut muscles, ancient pains twinge in a knee from seasons past. Core temperature drops, as do shoulders, and I know I have at best a handful of miles left in me. Welcome back.
                                    I'm home.

26 May, 2015

A new leaf

For those readers that haven't already guessed, this blog has petered out for various reasons. I left France, and my bike, in August last year and since have met a fabulous girl, travelled the Caribbean for months, arrived in the US, bought a scooter and road-tripped my way across America to Canada. 

It's been crazy silly fun, and still is! I'm still on the road and Aby and I have started writing about it. We hope to entertain and mostly inspire others to do what they want in life, even if it's scary and frowned upon by others to drop the unwanted things in their life. I quit cycling and left a life which I was building to pursue adventure, with no real plans and not loads of money. I have NEVER regretted it for a second! So follow those passions and do what you feel is right, not what you think is right. 

Passion led me to the bike and it has led me to other things for the time being. I hope you find this new blog fun. For now, peace out... 


08 March, 2015

Road. Trip.

Since St Croix, I left my WWOOFing post, met a Rasta couple, harvested for them for a month and learned to cut coconut in hand, flew to St Thomas, trespass-camped a night, wasn't impressed, ferried to St John to camp in the mangrove national forest for five days alone, found a lylo, a beachball and three expensive cigars and set sail on a fraught and stressful voyage, had my tent fixed with the help of some fishermen, snorkelled some amazing bays, hitchhiked and walked a-plenty, popped over to Tortola, WWOOFed on a bar/restaurant on a tiny island with 8 inhabitants, explored Virgin Gorda (which is fantastic!), sailed to Grenada with an amazing inspiring man, Carlos (four days without land which truly changed my life), camped in Trinidad off a horrible main road and watched fireflies, surprised my best friend by turning up unannounced in Florida to see her.


The Last Resort, bar/restaurant.
St John

Grenada mysteries.

Wynwood in Miami was a little getaway for Aby and I to eat like students and chat like nutcases, emersed in rich hipster culture which felt inclusive and real for once. We liked it. There were things on the walls and we looked at them. The coffee was hot and strong and we drank it. The sun smiled at us so we smiled back.

Then we were in Florida. We walked, we talked, we sought. Aby, Annabel, Doug. I built a shed. Florida streets were no more generous as a trio than they were as a singlet for me before. We went south. Key West in a hire car, life suddenly ablur with endless interstates and coffee highs.

The Terrific Trio. 'Brits do it better'.

Freedom was utterly delicious before we even left Del Rey and we revelled in it, stopping willy-nilly for bookshops and a bird sanctuary. We learned through so many mediums- literature, people, nature. I suddenly realised I'm a huge geek and bought an informative animal identification card. My friends didn't ditch me, I am very lucky.

We got to Key West (after a brief clash with trailer trash who told us to "back the fudge up" as we were on her drive, and toted a hand pistol in brash defence. We ended up with the girls slept in a layby in the car, and me in my tent somewhere in a nearby cluster of trees. I definitely didn't trespass into a National Park). It was alternative, and wild, so many genres in the mixing pot and I liked it. Truman street was surreal. I visited an eco centre and learnt stuff about mangroves and ecosystems, then enjoyed an incredible art display of a man called Andreas Franke.

We went to a jazz bar and a man was wearing suspenders and a tutu. He seemed indifferent to his boyfriend's balance issues. A woman asked us to dance, all three of us, and I smiled descent, wondering what her disappointments were and wishing I could have solved them in a three minute boogey. The music was so good. 

One day we snorkelled in a freezing ocean, six miles out and saw very little, then maximised liquid profits on the ferry back. That afternoon we visited the Garden of Eden, a famous local, and got naked. Nights were spent with Annabel in the car and I sleeping rough somewhere (usually the cemetery) with Aby taking her pick on company depending who offered the most comfortable pillow. It was perfect, nestled between lichened stone and marble lives long ago concluded.