Haywards Heath, Long Buckby here I come - In the name of Thiago - Day 13
In the name of
Thiago
So after a great deal
of posturing and prankstering, the day has come where I’m setting my stall out.
Talk is cheap they say and as a broadcaster who made virtually no money at all from
commentating on football, cricket and tennis to name but three, I thoroughly
concur.
For this is the day, where
no longer can people have an excuse not to make plans for their summer. The 30
day charity trek totalling 282 glorious miles from the sunshine coast of
Eastbourne to the industrial Potteries heartland is here (in draft, pending approval
from my boss for the annual leave I will be requesting when I return from compassionate
leave next week)!
And sitting down doing
this today has been utterly magnificent. My dad and I began our work at 2.45
this afternoon and got completely immersed in our task, so much so that I forgot
to collect Elisa from school. Elisa brings her cello home on a Friday so she
needs the lift. Her first cello, which was supplied by the school, was called ‘the
beast’. This cello (bought by my dad for Christmas) is known as Beastie Boy.
She has no idea why I find that so funny. Yet.
Anyway, I digress. Back
to the main event of the day. The magnificent Jamie Hickey had already planned
the first seven stages and so it was down to me to conjure up some magical
mayhem for the following three weeks. With considerable assistance from the mighty
Grand Union Canal I plotted westwards from Richmond, quickly swapping the excitement
of the city for a whole heap of places which I would struggle to tell you even
which county they were in.
But that didn’t matter
one iota, for I was feeling as alive as I have in a while. My life suddenly had
purpose. I mean yes it had purpose before, of course it did, but this was
actually exciting, really exciting. And frankly there can’t be many people that
have said that about Long Buckby. Ever.
The more astute of you
may notice that there seems to be very little logic to the last Birmingham to
Stoke section, with some wild criss-crossing and intriguing location selections.
Ah but it will involve a south to north plotting through Cannock Chase, which should
be glorious and also takes in places where I feel I have reasonable chances of
securing lifts/accommodation. In this madness, method lies!
So that in a nutshell
is it ladies and gents. I am truly feeling the vibe and the vibe is good. Not
only that, my trusty travelling companion also arrived today. Look at this
beauty.
Jamie Hickey swears by this stuff and if it’s good enough for him, strike a
light it’s plenty good enough for me too. I like to think of my body gliding through
this ordeal for 282 miles and though the product is focused on the lessening of chafing,
a man can still dream I think.
Right you horrible lot,
hit me up with your stage requests and let’s get some more money rolling into
the NHS coffers. For this, as if you hadn’t already established, is a significant
team effort. Go Gibbonators go!
I bid you goodnight.
Shame you didn't come across the south west and stopped in Bristol. We will be here, if you change your route š
ReplyDeleteHey Mari~Cruz I guess it must be you as I can't think of anyone else I know living in Bristol. It would be lovely to 'drop-in' on Bristol but I really don't think I'd ever make it home. I have my doubts as it is! If you think you could find a day to join me, that would be amazing though. Hope you're enjoying the blog š
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