Hello my dear friends.I write this email sat at the same desk from which I left. I am not as yet homeless. Hurrah! However, I wait with anticipation for the future.

I arrived back around 8pm last night. I flew into Livepool, and cycled all the way back, with a typical English welcome (i.e, rain! Lots of rain!). And no money. I stopped, ever once in a while to eat leftover Italian rossette bread, nuttella and banana sandwiches, which I might add, has kept me alive for the last 7 days. Didnt need any water, I just stuck out my tongue. Anyhow, The ride was much easier than from day 1, the distances seemed shorter, my legs were stronger. It astonished me to notice my tollerance & understanding of distance. 3500km probably does things to you like that.
Anyhow, I cycled from Liverpool, to Southport, to Leyland and Chorley. As I arrived in Blackburn, Everything seemed familiar, and weird. I was cycling on the same path which I set off from! But in the other direction! I recalled how in Blackburn, at a point called Eanam Wharf, where I forgot to start my bike computer, so technically trip actually began there right at that very point. It was at that very point, when I was observing, and thinking to myself, how cycle friendly Blackburn was with its pavements, and pathways. Then, the familliar sound of air hissing entered my senses. Puncture. Right at Eanam Wharf. How ironic. My journey began there, and ended there too? Nope my friends. I contemplated briefly phoning one of my friends to collect me, then I considered hopping the train. Then I accepted that I am going to return all by myself, in the pouring Lancashire rain, whether it kills me or not. As you can tell by this blog, It did not kill me. I rode the bike on the rim some 20km, which was very exciting and takes quite a bit of skill. I have destroyed my rear wheel. however, after getting hit by the dickhead in France, and having my wheel buckled, I figured it was time for a little payback. That alone felt good. when I returned, My friendly neighbours chatted in wide-eyed amazement at my feat. And kindly gave me cigarettes. Yes, people, I started to smoke again. I think it was the feeling of total freedom, that caused it. And probably that Aussie bird Helen.


So, what do I plan on doing now? I am going to write up my journey in greater detail. I am going to add some photgraphs (sadly my batteries ran out after Tuscany, So I am relying on the Internet to jog my memory). I also plan on reviewing my equipment. God I have alot to say about some of that stuff. And now, I must go find a job, as I have only a jar of Nuttella to sustain me.

A big thankyou to everyone I met on the way. Helen, Rob & his missus, The many cycle tourists, Ruth, the crazy Quebecian, The Wino kid in Provence: sorry for not waiting for you I got the itch to travel, The airline hostess with Ryanair, Dannielle I believe (thanks for the beer), The fucking French Police, That old couple I met in Roen and laughed about burning JOan d'arc, and the old English couple at Omaha beach. And many many more who I just cant recall right now. And finally, cheers Tatler, for the support.

Until my legs start to wander again.