There was a really cute couple doing their wedding photos. I congratulated them and slapped beers in their hands. I think they thought I was some sort of nut but I managed to explain I am Australian, and that seemed to resolve the matter for them…
He’s an old guy. What am I going to do? I think about going ahead of him, but it seems childish, and I can picture us trying to one up each other for hours, going further and further up the road…
This town is really beautiful. Cobbled streets, towering castle battlements, and a fast flowing river lined with trees flowing through and around the citadel…
The most popular style of American beer came into fruition because of some thirsty Brits in India…
Pietro opens his front door with a smile, and I collapse onto his couch. The hitch from London to Paris went very well, but I have only slept about 2 hours in the last 24…
“Are you up for it mate?” “Of course” he snears, his juggler pride offended. “We have had only six beers. I will juggle. I will juggle any way you like. Let us make this interesting. I will juggle, J.U.I., and what is more, I will juggle cans of IPA, and I will do it on the roof…”
Hearty breakfast of beer and haggis at The Beer Kitchen, then it’s finally time.
I give the guys a hug, jump on me scooter and roll south… slightly wobbly but feeling good…
“That’s about 10,000 kms of hitchhiking you’re proposing. This would involve crossing about three continents, freezing cold mountains, blisteringly hot deserts, and a large number of border posts, attended by humorless civil servants…”
‘You’re a hitchhiker’ they tell me. ‘We’ve read your blog and you seem to enjoy doing odd things. How would you like to be our hitchhiking delivery guy..?
My body is all like “we’re staying up late and having fun”. Except now I just want to catch up on my sleep. No dice. “Wake up mother fucker” yells my pituitary gland…