Going Back to Poland

Put down your copy of the Daily Mail and take a deep breath. I've got news for you: This country isn't going to the dogs. If you'd allow a second for reality to enter your brains you'd come to terms with the fact that life ain't that perfect and it never has been. (Can you remember a time when it were that perfect? No, I thought not.)

But anyway, it's early in the morning, so I'll excuse myself for that little rant. They don't belong here, not when I've not written shit in ages.

THE NEWS: It's a trip back to Poland. Fuck yeah. In just under two weeks (or maybe above, depending on variables) we is gonna be doing a mission back to my favourite country in Europe.

The plan is to hitchhike from the golden paved streets of London to the badly paved streets of Warsaw. Even better is the idea that we can do it in 24 hours. More likely is the plan to do it without any sleep, in a Beastie Boys homeage of 'No Sleep Til Warsaw'.

I'm trekking out with a dear friend who has successfully hitched to Morroco, so I'm thinking I'm in safe hands. It's only 1000 miles (that's four trips to London from where I'm from), it can't be such a mission.

Although, I am aware it's going to be a mission. I accept that I am the most accident/bad luck prone person in the universe (seriously God, why me?) which is why I'll be happy to make it there alive. (Limbs and vital organs present and intact would be a preferable bonus.)

So I'm going to start saving my cash to spend on speed to keep us awake for the long haul journey, and should probably think of ways to store that shit abouts my body for border crossings (thank God I'm skinny, plenty of room to hide stuff). This is going to be a fun little adventure.