PART 1

Hello. I’ve just survived a 3 year sentence as a Production Planner for a company that makes false limbs. Despite working at the cutting edge of the thrilling Orthopaedic Implant industry I spent most days on the verge of sleep. It’s a feeling not too dissimilar to the one you always seem to encounter on a long haul flight; you’re so tired but you just can’t sleep.

The longer this struggle persisted the more I more I began to lose the plot. Rational thought and enthusiasm also began to ebb away. I became hilariously bored. I could finish a days work by 9.16am. I’d eat toast, drink tea and take mammoth toilet breaks but only ever managed to kill 20 minutes. Truth told, I actually did fall asleep in the toilets for just under an hour – nobody noticed.

After the tea and toast at around 9.33am, I went into battle against my eye lids. Mornings were slow and painful. The cure was to sniff coconut scented sun cream which, Pavlov’s Dog’s style, momentarily dropped me as far away from industrial northern England as I could dream. Disturbing but true.

I still get nervous around the evil screens of Microsoft Excel and the sight of characterless, shoe box factories on grey industrial estates still induces heavy drowsiness.

Since escaping the asylum, I’ve been travelling full-time which has helped me to remember there is more to life than soul depleting spreadsheet monotony.

These ‘pieces of writing’ are a daily record of varying aspects of my trip so far. Some days I do literally nothing, some days I educate myself, some I travel long distances, others I meet interesting people and some days I write whatever it is that might be pissing me off, opening my eyes, making me laugh or broadening my mind!

The rules are simple. I have to write everyday.

Travelling is better than working in a fake limb factory

Part 2

Transcript for Killing Time Bazooka – the one where  I get bored waiting for my plane in Darwin Australia before flying to Chile to begin my South American adventure:

Killed time all day before beginning a mammouth journey from Darwin, Australia to Santiago Chile. Killing time in Darwin means discussing pressing political issues with alcohol dependent aboriginals, phoning home (guaranteed to take 1h30mins finding number, phone card and correct phone box!) and debating whether or not I actually need a didgeridoo or that stuffed kangaroo foot bottle opener. Brain teaser; odds on an aboriginal winning the World Snooker Champinship.

Stuck in Darwin waiting for a flight to South America

Part 3

Transcript for Must be Horizontal – the one where I (or the little character) gets irritable and restless on his mammoth flight to Latinoland!

To the bloke that invented the aeroplane:
Well done sir, you enabled mankind to fly. But how on earth is an average sized humanoid supposed to sit bolt upright in comfort for more than 26 minutes?
All anybody ever wants to do on a plane is bloody sleep so why put seats in? I bet midget man OddJob from the  James Bond films couldn’t have slept in the odd position I did…..my forehead suffered carpet burns.

Travelling isn't always fun, sometimes sitting on planes can be hellish!

PART 4

Apparently we’d landed. I had absolutely no idea of what time it was and wouldn’t have been surprised if this wasn’t Santiago, Chile.

In fact, in my enduring quest for Horizontalia, I’d gone past giving a shit where I was. 36hrs ago I was sweating my breasts off in a humid sticky Darwin. Now I see the world through a foggy mist and in the far distance (actually only inches form my face) taxi drivers are speaking in a very strange language.

This is going to take some getting used to. Plus my neck seems fixed at 45degrees.

The Little Man has landed in South America a little confused

PART 5

I feel like shit. My Spanish is very shit. And 36 hrs of cabin pressure means I can’t shit. “hfoingo oijgeijwq opojfhgez” is about all I can understand of the local lingo. It’s my own fault for coming to South America with absolutely no Spanish. In the words of Peter Kay “Am I hearing you right? That’s just a noise mate”. These people don’t seem to understand that English is much easier!

It helps to speak spanish in South America!