No, I didn’t switch continents. I just got to the end of this one. I left Bruxelles heading to Calais with 50 extra EURO donated by Bogdan (from back in Cluj) and 20 from Diana, Lucian’s girlfriend, that hosted me in Belgium. So now I have a ridiculously big amount of 85 EURO on me for emergencies (yep, it’s pretty much for this trip).I got to the canal to cross to the UK in about 4 hours, changing cars in Gent (got driven there by Mark from Australia and Mr. Emerson – that gave me his daughter’s e-mail in Oxford), Oostende (Jurgen and Heather, a Belgian-American couple), a nice Belgian lady in a Romanian Dacian Logan car (who’s having her son do something similar – working for 6 month around the world, traveling for the other half of a year) and then two French guys that were going fishing and didn’t speak English, that drove me all the way in front of my next host’s place.I met HÃ©lÃ¨ne (from CouchSurfing.com, thanks for the tip, Andreea) the French English teacher. She drove me along the French coast, where I got to see a nice Calais sunset on a clear sky and check out the British shore ahead.
HÃ©lÃ¨ne would describe herself as a horrible French, because she doesn’t drink wine, she doesn’t eat cheese, she can’t cook and she is an English teacher. Although she did cook some great pasta with chorizo sauce. We had cider with it, ’cause I couldn’t have drunk beer in France and I’m not much of a wine fellow.
I walked a bit around Calais next morning and took a short bath in the canal, before leaving. HÃ©lÃ¨ne prepared a nice lunch and drove me to the ferry departure park. I tried to get a ride with someone that paid for the whole car, but only few people were traveling. So I had to buy a 17 EURO ticket as a foot passenger. And pissed off the ticket officer, ’cause I asked her if she could speak in English… Which she was.
The ride on the big boat took a little over an hour and a half. I spend about 45 mins after arriving in Dover, until I got another Romanian truck driver, Dan, coming off of the boat behind us. He drove me up to the London surrounding ring and on to a parallel road from which I was suppose to ride up to Luton. He left me near Stevenage, on the right of Luton if you look on the map. From there I walked half way to Luton and then got a ride from a Polish guy, working in the town.
I got picked up by Diana from a square were people where taking turns using my guitar like it was some exotic fruit. For those of you who watch a bit of porn, I would describe Diana as an ex petite french girl (if there’s a keyword search engine on the site) that turned UK chubby chick takes 3 dicks in all holes. But in a good way! Hehe. And met her friend Elliot. He’s not much into porn. Diana cooked for us.
UK has everything backwards or mixed or plain fucked up. Neglecting the street lanes details, they have 2 water pipes for one sink; one for really cold and one for damn hot. I have no clue on how you’re supposed to get it at an average temperature. If you try to mix it, one hand gets frostbite and the other 3rd degree burns.
Luton has the “Luton News” newspaper, that comes out every Wednesday. So I suggested “Luton Stuff That Happened Last Week”. They didn’t appreciate it. They also have “On Sunday”, on which the first and last pages consist in a big one page ad for an Indian restaurant. The second page is the menu of the restaurant.
What’s beautiful about Luton is a village next by, called Little Whisthemoreplexwatchfordwestredgreenage or something. They got a lot of pubs and the whole population spends its time inside drinking at all times.
I found out yesterday that the Romanian national TV station TVR1 aired a story on my trip. Luckily they know how to mention their sources properly, so Jeg got linked. That’s probably gonna help along the way with people watching it internationally.
Missed thing of the day – Pamfil.
I’ll be talking by phone on Radio Transilvania, with the hosts from “Echipa de distracție” show, tomorrow at noon, sometime between 11:00 and 12:00 I think, on 94,5 FM in Cluj-Napoca,
or online streaming at this link. Podcast here.
I’ve arrived at Harlow, 30 mins out of London, at my next host, Nelida, who used to work for Vitrina Advertising, where I think I’m still employed and where’ll I’ll return, ok, guys?! Hehe. Tomorrow morning I’ll have fish and chips with buddy Queen Elizabeth Going Twice and then try my bad-singing-for-silence-money method around London.[for those of you experiencing trouble with seeing the embeded movie, you can watch it directly on YouTube, by following this link].
Şi de acuma înainte ce admiri? Că sună a sfârşit dramatic. 😀 Şi stai că-n articolul viicios arăt cum am făcut io bani din nemica şi m-am dixtrat prin Londră. 😀
te-am descoperit de 3 zile si imi place simplitatea cu care scrii despre o chestie la care eu visez cu o frica dinaia copilareasca si cu un entuziasm nu prea entuziast intrucat o saramana numa la stadiu de vis . nu zic ca te admir , pentru ca probabil prea multi o fac . But god damn it man ! you are living and loving the dream . excelent ! i supose you wont have time to keep in touch, but beautiful travelling stranger you touched a sensitive cord in m heart and mind . ! noapte buna din maramu’ .
am bagat . subsemnez : moroshanca 🙂
Darius, păi crezi că nebunia ta se termină atât de brusc? Ar fi etrusc. Pardon, vroiam să spun ca într-o anacolut în neamul etrusc… Ar fi grav să se termine în tine tocmai ceea ce te defineşte. Fără nebunie ai fi un mic funcţionar care se trezeşte la ora 6, îşi face cafeaua, pleacă la 7 fără 10 la muncă, pleacă la ora 16:30 de la muncă, ajunge acasă, mănâncă, se aşează în fotoliu cu o bere în mână privint, eventual, un meci de fotbal, îşi tăvăleşte nevasta 10 minute sub plapumă de 3,5 ori pe săptămână şi doarme până a doua zi. Şi să nu uit, dominica ar fi încurcat că nu ştie ce să facă.
salut;;) sunt baiatul lui Dan … te-a luat din Dover la Londra;;) ce zici un id?;;)
Şăzi, că te adaug. 🙂
Am ajuns la “Bad singing day.” … şi mă roade curiozitatea (înainte de vreme): mai ai chitara?
Trebuie să-mi ajungă (am lăsat-o-n urmă-n UK, la întoarcere, procurând un ukulele – hawaiană, de aia mică, cu 4 corzi).