Most people know about Boscastle on account of that time it flooded and I don't mean the locals got their toes a bit wet whilst watching Corrie and eating their fish and chips one night. It fucking flooded. We're talking homes and businesses destroyed, cars washed out to sea as torrents of sewage infested water [...]
I promised myself when I moved back to the UK that I'd treat it as a destination. I wouldn't let reality suck me in and I'd see as much of the country as possible. I'd refuse to get stuck in a rut, routine would not control me, I would remain as free as a bird. [...]
Ah, England. We do many, many things so very well, such as utterly failing to adequately prepare for the same adverse weather that happens every single year just so the population have something to whinge about. And queuing. We do so love a good queue, especially if someone pushes in so we can tut loudly [...]
Every 6.30am start should be accompanied by bacon. It's the rules. Dead pig is clinically proven to alleviate the trauma that your body clock endures when it discovers you can actually get up at such an hour, and not just to vomit 17 shots of tequila or piss out 7 pints of Fosters before re-collapsing [...]
Travel & Shit 