Diary: September, 22

Continued 2/4.

27th

Woke up in my tent on Moffat nature reserve, last night was uncomfortable and cold, need more warm layers of clothing.

Leaving the tent the wind chill touches the bones in my hands, rolling up a damp tent is slightly enduring, even after all these years of rambling I still shake a little at a mildly daunting daily task. The view of the lake was invigorating.

Waited three hours for a lift at Moffat M74 junction before a lift came to Perth, the driver was a later 50’s man travelling north to work on the wind turbines. I entered Broxten services and ate a late lunch then walked to the infamous roundabout. Police usualy come, either tell me to go back to the services or give me a lift to the next junction.

I hitched from Broxden road about successfully without getting moved on by police; a man stopped, I travelled with him as far as the bridge north of Tain. The next lift came quickly, we added by his wife along the way towards Durnoch, he said she’d ring right away, and she did just that. This is a very bonnie wee place, my phone camera did it a little justice here.

Seriously, I need to heal from years of trauma and psychological torture but they won't let you heal when these vampires are drinking you're blood. So I pitched my tent by the coast early in the evening to rest my spirit upon sea.

26th

Strong rain pouring down over my tent this morning; its 7am and still waiting for sopping downpour to stop. Wall climbimg intruders were in and out the garden up until midnight; including somebody smashing metal at 11pm! Water bottle I left on outside table has moved 20 yards without any wind.

Almost thirty pounds were missing from my bank account this morning; have to query that later with Nationwide. The keypad on their cash machine was covered in blood.

Lots of run-down pubs up North, and commercial buildings are not illegal to squat BTW.

My first lift came from an Indian Hindu man, he drove me into Preston. My first visit was to a phone shop to get my P30 phone fixed, but two hours later my phone was still u repaired as the “replacement” screen was faulty! By luck I walked into a pub that I had spent time in before just before the lockdown. A gay Chinese student entered the pub later on in the evening, he was trying loads of drinks and the barman was happy to serve him. We talked for an hour before he realized he should be going home.

I left the pub ajar and unhappy, I did not want to face off the cold evening, feeling unwell. The walk to the M6 was short but seems long, I stopped at Shell garage named the tickled trout for a sugary fizzy drink. The cashier was horrid, whispering in his workmates ear some obscenity. A man in the que had seen me hitchhiking and offered a lift. He took me to Southwaite M6 services.

The surrounding fields adjacent to the motorway services had livestock in them, there was no visible places to pitch my tent so chose to hitchhike onwards. It was at least an hour before a sporty BMW coupe stopped and offered me a lift, he took me to Moffat M74 roundabout. I deliberated going to Dumfries but had no desire to hitchhike after midnight. Two options were left and being nearest I chose to pitch my rent at Moffat nature reserve. Getting the tent up was a struggle in the starlit darkness, Because I had previously rolled up my tent with my head torch inside. I lay my head disturbed, my body shook mildly as I passed out with exhaustion.

25th

We left the house at around midnight for the A30. We stopped in many parking laybys either for the toilet, or something else. 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”. 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.

24th

Feeling much better this morning, but in hindsight, I have not noticed the determination of my central nervous system until I began to become well again. The injection lasts 10 weeks, not the 12 weeks claimed so a couple of weeks before the jab is due I begin to suffer from Pernicious Anaemia; this occasion displayed symptoms of confusion, hazing of cognition, and a slowed staggered projection. In the afternoon I felt unwell and rested whilst my friend continued his woodcarving. A friend of a friend came around a gob shite acquaintance who I have known almost as long as my friend. I was once invited by Carol to her old place, his father’s house, there he offended hospitality by verbally belittling Carol in front of me, he tried this (being anti-French) with his dad who was not impressed with him.

23th

Woke early with a sore chest but craving a cigarette, I need to cut down on smoking and maybe stop, along the road ahead I will accomplish this. Today’s dawn is the beginning of the autumnal equinox, plants begin to shed their foliage. Late afternoon I journeyed to the doctor’s surgery and received my B12 injection from a creepy nurse named Emily; I checked her name badge to see if her surname was “Strange”. I began to feel well within minutes, a rise of wellness that lasted through the night. In the evening I helped clean my friend’s house and washed a few dirty clothes whilst my friend began his chainsaw carving. My new dress got torn loading and offloading wood and metal from my friend’s van, very disappointed with that. I also refused an offer to drink alcohol, having just received my B12 jab hours earlier.

22nd

Been out with my friend Koala in his van today… we visited his displaced friend who had made a strip (adjacent to a public layby) his home.

In the evening I visited Carol, she asked for some headache pills, reverberating a previous visiting request. Her home (a shoe box flat converted from a terrace house) was exactly the same as eight months ago which made me notice I had changed. She had also changed landing a nursing job and a “red and black” company car. She borrowed money and drove us to Tesco. Later she cooked dinner, we watched a true story serial killer film on Netflix (also a red and black logo) before she requested I leave. I had already planned to go, but allowed the end of the film before I left, when our eyes met, I knew we would not be close friends in the future; maybe from a past that I could not remember but vaguely recalled. The walk back to my friend’s house was brisk, entering I was welcomed to a warm wood fire and handed a can of Thatcher’s cider. We sat up and talked for a couple of hours until my friend could no longer stay awake. I attempted to remain awake until 2 am (autumnal equinox) but fell asleep on his couch an hour later at 12:30 am.

20th

Had peaceful nights sleep, but nobody came near my tent that I was aware of.

Autumnal colours of Ideless were verdant, who turned up the contrast this morning?

I made my way into Truro whilst unsuccessfully trying to arrange an appointment to see my doctor. On the way, I called in to see an old friend, his dog has been poisoned but seemed to be recovering. At the surgery, I managed to wrangle an appointment within the next few days rather than in a fortnight.

In the afternoon I hung around the Daubuz moor nature reserve. I met a bald man enjoying the nature reserve with his family, he remembered me from my BMX riding, and said Truro was a better place for me to be in it; I told him I was done here and that I now lived in Scotland. He enquired what Scottish people wore underneath their kilts, I replied “nothing”.

I do not want to be in Truro, I lived here alone and hapless for eighteen long months and have had enough of it. I am planning on staying one night with my friend, then hitchhiking around and in a few days, returning for my appointment, then getting the hell out. I find this city insulting and arrogant, excluding a small number of people I could count on my fingers. In the evening I visited a friend and ended the day sleeping on his living room couch. We talked about our travels in Europe, and the bizarre degeneracy in South Africa since apartheid came down. He encouraged me to contact some friends I had not spoken to for a while, but I only successfully contacted one of two. Third friend (from Ullapool) I am not so sure about the.

19th

Footsteps were walking so close to my tent that they dissolved my wild phobia of people, cheers Stonehenge!

The morning mist placed Stonehenge above the clouds.

Today I plan to leave the drive and hitchhike out of the area. Happy I have made a few more friends. I started hitchhiking on the A303 at a roundabout south of Stonehenge and pulled over a lift as soon as I stuck out my. thumb. Probably in about 2 seconds, .my quickest-ever lift. I climbed into a small car on the radio the elderly male driver played 50’s music by the Shadows. He took me to the A30 Illminster roundabout.

Next to stop was an Asian man, his car was playing French radio, who said he had done charity work with migrants in Calais, and said the Jungle camp was pure trauma. He dropped me on the A38 driving me by one junction. The road was very quiet here, but after 20 mins a rock climber going to Bovey Tracy stopped his car.

From a roundabout by a fire station, I thumbed a lift to Moretonhampstead from Asian women. The next lift came from a vile Communist, he dropped me at A30 services near Okehampton. Here I ate lunch, soup and coffee; I talked to a man cleaning the service sign about magic mushrooms, many people have been talking about this recently.

Was taken to Newquay by chance when a couple stopped to negotiate who had chosen the right way; a sociopathic husband bullied her and made me feel sick. The final lift of the day came from a biker going to Trelisk hospital. He mentioned a new council estate being but in Camborne, only Birmingham city council had bought it and was transferring their housing list, accompanying this development a mosque is also being built. No homes in Cornwall for the Cornish people, wtf. Walked around the back of Trelisk and down a quiet lane, a woman stopped and asked if I was OK and if would I need a lift I replied “No”. The walk to Ideless woodland was steady; arriving at sundown at an area where I had initially planned to pitch my tent.

Decided to light a fire during a damp sundown, a shotgun blasted crows to the tree tops above me, welcome Odin I spoke as I retired to my tent for a quiet night’s sleep.

Chose a section of Scandinavian pine to make set up camp for the night, and enjoyed hot lentil soup but spilt tomato soup over the woodland floor.

18th

Woke up along the drove about 1/4 mile west of Stonehenge. Last night was cold again but this morning is pleasantly warm. Making cast contact with the stones I feel revitalised having spent the night here.

So happy to see this evil Marxist troll leave the drove early this morning (before anybody got out their beds), other than his intrusive light show, thankfully he never played any commie reggae music.

Commie Rastafarians never had any history with me or anybody I know from time was living with the travellers or holding Gorsedd and/or Eisteddfod with Druids at Stonegenge. Our sun is gold, the moon is silver, and never was our sun coloured red. Nobody came to dance with his expensive Merc van (we had old, inexpensive vehicles), most quietly complained. My two friends were over the road in their white vans, as I exited the tent I noticed the canvass was dry on the inside but sopping on the outside from the Salisbury plains. My friend’s girlfriend parted early to go to a car boot sale with her friend.

She returned later on in the day, with three tons of soup and a loaf of bread for me. The degenerate Marxist returned briefly then left playing shite dub reggae music, after I wrote that he never played the genre of music. The day flew by and as noon approached I felt too tired to leave. Before pitching my tent again I took a walk up to Stonehenge to get a closer picture of the stones.

Returning to the woods I stopped by a truck, the occupant was a grey bearded elderly man named Christian Woods. He was sweet and pointing to his wood burner compassionately offered help if I need it.

The second and last night I had dinner with my two new friends, we ate ginger cake by a log fire they had lit before I retired to my tent.

17th

Woke up in my tent around 5am, made a hot drinks.

The moth that had kept me awake had gone to sleep or died.

Following the same direction as last night toward East Grinstead I entered a cafe. A man had order a huge take out, leaving me to wait for a few extra minutes to place my order. A while later a casual smart couple entered and order a two breakfasts costing a wooping £34! Exiting the cafe the walk out of the locality was lengthy. Disturbed and tiring of the busy road I turned northwards into a small woodland footpath. After half a mile I found these Cromwellian monstrosities.

This bought thoughts into my mind of Cromwell’s esoteric picture, his foot placed upon the heart, slowing, maybe breaking a beat of Norman queen, perhaps I thought, this is why cars were fitted peddle accelerators but dismissed the thought dwindling motion as a schism?

First lift came from a woman off to walk her dog in a nearby woodland, she went out of her way to drop me in Crowborough. The next lift came from a guy in his 30s, driving a jacked 4×4 pickup, he took me to Hove. Where he turned left I turned right along the A27, I have no plan whatsoever to return to B-right-on. I received a lift to Chichester roundabout from a farmers wife then another lift from a crazy guy almost to the A27/A3 roundabout. Half an hour later a guy stopped and took me to Petersfield, then a natura cult brainwasher (talked about the Caribbean before claiming he placed people together with kindness) gave a lift to a services along the A272.

After purchasing a pasty from a garage I walked along the road until a Chinese man stopped, he had the same accent as the old man from the Netflix series “Squid Games”; he even appeared as a younger version of the character. At sundown I whislt walking up a dangerous road from the A272 to the A34 I noticed a white van had pulled into a layby.

Inside the van a male, norse in appearance, wearing an Interterresials tshirt offered me a lift, a wee while later I found out he was going to stonehendge, I thought to myself what an exellent place to pitch my tent for the night. We pulled onto the drove (a small dusty track running along the west side of stonehenge) at dusk.

He was friendly and generous with hospitality, his van had a living area in the back, he made tea and later, after his girlfriend arrived shared pasta with me. I was weary about pitching my tent up so close to the track but after talking to a few people who had pitched the anxiety decreased enough for me to pitch up.