And off I go...

After a short but what seemed like a lifetime stay with my parents got on a train at Tottenham Hale, destination Weymouth. I was nervous being driven there. Nervous because I knew what this meant now. I was leaving everyone I knew and loved behind me and it was a different experience to what had gone before. I've left people I've cared for behind in the past and even though that has bothered me I've always moved swiftly onto the next situation and group of people to distract me from anything real I might be feeling. I've always had somewhere to move on to because something before had definitely ended. But at Tottenham Hale I had the very real impression of nothing definite in front of me - just a vague idea of what I wanted to do. And I was making a conscious decision, myself, to leave those around that were important to me.



Armed with my backpack and bags (minus a laptop) I descended to the tube platform. There I had to endure some unnecessary histrionics from my mother and hope that she gets over her daughter not 'coming home' for a while. The trains were unusually busy for a Sunday and this annoyed me. It was like traveling with a very heavy, unmovable baby on my back and I wasn't appreciating (as my fellow passengers) the corners of tube train I unstably backed into. A check of the time on my phone got my adrenaline going at the uncertainty as to whether I'd catch my next train at Waterloo. But I got in with plenty of time which is what usually happens when you worry that you won't. Then when you don't worry - you miss your train, life's a mystery.

The platform at Waterloo did that annoying thing of announcing that the very long train on it, only half of it was going to Weymouth. This immediately set my traveling paranoia into action - what if I got on the wrong half, what if I didn't know? Where would I end up? Ahhhhhhhhhh. But after calming myself down and taking all the directions I could from tanoy systems, ground staff and snatched conversations from other travellers I settled onto the right coach.

A quick text to my best mate was sent. I think she called me sometime into the journey but we were untimely cut off a few times by tunnels. I ate slept a while, ate something to keep my mind off thinking of what my friends were up to at that precise moment. What bar they would be heading to tonight - or any important up coming weekly events I was missing out on.

I arrived in Weymouth nicely on time after a promise of delay from the train driver. I was very kindly picked up by the lady who owned the B and B I was staying at that night. I had to stay over as my ferry was at ridiculous O'clock in the morning. Small talk proceeded on the short drive to the B and B. My room was lovely which is surprising because it really is hit and miss whether you get nice ones or not. The owners hadn't had it long and had just given it a face lift which explained the presentation. Before I settled in for the night I went on the hunt for supper. I was recommended an Italian down the road but I hadn't the means for anything mildly luxurious that evening. I was hoping for a sandwich from a Newsagents but it was 6pm on Sunday. First lesson of travelling - try not to do it on Sundays, if necessary take own provisions for all meals and drinks.

I headed out to explore town but ended up going to the Italian. It was open and only had one other sitting so I thought I could get away with eating by myself and not ordering very much. Some people have a problem with going to restaurants by themselves but I can hack it. I appreciate my own company at times - time to reflect and daydream. I just mustn't make a habit of it because it can get awfully lonely.

After a lovely quick dinner I returned and watched T.V. I can always tell the quality of the place I'm staying by the quality of their T.V. It's been a personal scale of standards since I was a little girl. This place had a smart T.V. with good picture and control but no channel 5. I would of course prefer digital but that is still luxury standards at the moment. 'Five' a decade ago would have been forgiven for being absent but it is a standard channel today. Something decent was on Channel 4 anyway and during watching I made last contact with my friend on Guernsey before meeting tomorrow morning.

Getting on the ferry proved problematic. Armed with my backpack ready for around the world adventure and my hat that looked like it had come from the Wardrobe department of Indiana Jones I attempted to board with my return ticket (it's all to do with pricing). The lady at the desk asked me 'and are you planning to return today?' I hated answering this question but no amount of skirting around the issue could quell her inquisition. So yeah I'm coming back today, of course. On ferry, on seat and we're off. No sea sickness for me - I love the sea I could be on it forever. But I used to say that about being in the car and now I get car sick. So who knows.

A look at my phone with the sign No Network Coverage on it's screen indicated I was now moving into uncharted territory. I was excited now. A couple of hours later, an engine failure delay and I received a text from my contract network stating the new charges for my phone usage - abroad. Abroad???????? Abroad - are you joking?! I'm only going to the Channel Islands. Is it just me or they meant to be a part of like English speaking land? No. I've later learnt that even though they are part of British Islands they are not in fact part of the British Isles. Right, yeah, great distinction.

Well consequently I am out of mobile action but this was partly my goal I think. To discover that somewhere, somehow there is life beyond the gadgetry shackles of 21st Century life. Though if that was the case I wouldn't be blogging now would I. Oh well.

Arriving into port it was clear and sunny. And I noted beauty for the first time in months. The harbour was inviting, it was promising. This was the start of The New Adventures of moi.

So here goes...

First time blogger, hmmmmmmm what to write. Well I'm never short of words so I guess I should start by introducing myself.

I graduated from Uni last summer and have absolutely no idea what I should do with myself. So I'm like every other twenty something in Britain; a huge debt and a misplaced career choice ahead. So I thought I would skip the whole career thing for a while and go on a bit of a mission. What I said to my family and friends was this, "I'm going travelling." Immidiately they thought I should be purchasing an around-the-world plane ticket and alot of phrase books. However I didn't explain myself properly.

What I had in my head was this: visit amazing new places around the globe, get to know the people who live there, survive and do this with as little aeroplane travel as possible. Great - yeah an eco-trip. (Except I hate that prefix, it is used too often and all meaning has been lost) All I want is to experience what differences life has to offer. What different views and opinions different people have in different cultures. And then hopefully I can come back and make money out of writing about it - yey.

Initial problems I have encountered- travelling without being on board Ryanair takes at least three times as long. This effects planning im terms of what days I'm going to be where. Also effects accomodation - care needed to book a warm bed where necarsary. There's the added problem of the whole world only being geared up for air-travel. Watch a travel show - they'll give you all the flight information, even if its only to Barcelona. Watch my show - I'll tell you which train to get (which I'm currently working on).

I'm in Guernsey at the moment, staying with a friend, organising a stay on a Spanish organic farm at the end of march. I started out in Plymouth where I was at Uni and left my house there in a taxi. I was taken to the bus station with a massive backpack full of stuff I didn't really know if I needed and the horrendous thought that I'd probably left most of what I needed in my room. I had a Modbury (first plastic carrier bag free town in Britain) shoulder bag practically collapsing with its contents and a stupid laptop that I just needed to see me through the time at my next stopping point.

After a short wait with my load I got on a National Express bound for Victoria Station, London. It was specifically central London as freqeunt bus users will know to take advantage of the cheap ticket called funfare. It can be as low as £1 each way but I've never got that. Even with well in advance booking the lowest I've had each way is £9. It was evening (5hr from Plym to London) by the time I got in to the Coach station. Waited an hour for my Bus to Stasted Airport. Here my parents picked my up and stayed for about a week at my house which on a clear day you can see is only a few fields away from the airport itself.

Yes - there had to be a more personal reason for this whole no flying thing didnt there. This glass beacon, sitting pretty on the flat essex landscape is my local landmark. It used to be just a little air strip with a shed next to it - now its BAA Stasted with a mini-spaghetti junction off the M11 to get there and an appetite for knocking down 500 year old houses for an apparent well needed extra runway. How about no.

I'm bored now and hungry. I'm gonna have a cup of tea and biscuits. I'll tell you more when I feel like it.