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.


  1. Shame you didn't come across the south west and stopped in Bristol. We will be here, if you change your route šŸ™

  2. Hey 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 šŸ˜Š


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