This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Monday, 17 December 2012

The walk

The Walk started on Tuesday evening.
I was due to start on Friday originally but I saw how bad the forecast was and quickly brought the walk forward to start earlier.
So on Tuesday evening I started walking, enjoying the walk beside the sea and then inland, it wasn't too cold or too anything, and by bedtime I had reached a small town where I would stop for the night, I stopped and slept behind a garden tool bunker. seeing as I was walking, all I had with me by way of bedding was a mummy sleeping bag and a small duvet, which miraculously fitted into my backpack. I managed a light sleep and woke early and got going.
I got chocolate and water from the village shop before leaving the town and continuing along the coast and the cliffs, I fell once on the muddy path and ended up a bit muddy.
Long scenic walks up and down cliffs and hills and I arrived at two towns side by side and stopped for breakfast at one where the manager didn't mind my muddy state and was very kind and welcoming and got me a good bacon sandwich and cuppa at a good price.

And on I went, back up the cliffs and away from the sandy beaches, up and up, high up, and onwards on a long trek to the next town, where I stopped briefly to update everyone through a computer at the library, and then on nd on along the cliffs, on and on as night fell and on and on in the dark.

I bedded down in a church porch for a fairly warm and comfortable night, and set off again in the dark early morning.
This part of the walk was spectacular for scenery, and solitude, I walked for miles and saw no one, I had to walk round deep inlets and gorges where the cliffs had eroded, and eventually I came to a small shop up on the cliff road, and I got some chocolate and water and a can of coke, I needed those things badly.

On I went, on through sheep and past gorges and erosion in the cliffs. Then there was a car park and a viewpoint and toilets and boot showers. I stopped and had a wash and filled up with water and continued my walk, further up into the ever steeper cliffs.
Eventually I reached the next village, and stopped there for toilets and water again.
Then back up onto the hills and cliffs for a few more miles before I was back into civilisation.
I got my last few pounds out of the post office and had my first full meal, well it was a portion of chips, but it was hot and filling.
And then on I went, through woodland and caravan parks and on down into one of the bigger port towns and stopped for a hot drink and revelled in the fact that I was now on the 'home stretch' of the 70 mile walk.
It was now Thursday evening, and the torrential rain and galeforce winds forecast for Friday were looming and light rain had started.

I plodded on, another 10 miles to the bigger inland town and was lucky enough to have stickers for a tea in McD's, so I sat in there in the warmth and rested and emailed everyone.

There was nowhere to sleep except some 24 hour toilets, I had lost my radar key, so I put my cardboard on a toilet, locked myself into the cubicle and got into my sleeping bag, wrapped the duvet around and slept on a toilet. And I slept well. I must have been tired.
I woke in the early morning, feeling cozy and sleepy and wanting to doze but knowing it was important to get going as the bad weather was on it's way, the wind was already howling round the toilets.

I managed another cuppa at McD's but had no money for food.
Then I put the waterproof cover on the backpack, put my windproof coat on and zipped it up and started walking the last leg of the walk.

The bad weather did hit, oh yes, it did, and to make a long story short, I was soaked to the skin before long and very cold. Water was running down the path, deep and rapid, and my boots were soaked through, I kept my head down and just kept walking, just kept swimming, on and on, heavy with water.
I made it to the end of the walk, and was then worried that the stormy sea would mean that ferries weren't running, but ferries were running and I walked through the stormy waves down to the ferries and tried to wring my clothes out and wrap up in my duvet as I waited for the ferry. There was no way I could get dry but no one minded.
My friend met me on the other side of the water and rushed me home to get warm and dry, my clothes went in the wash and I was wrapped up in warm things and eating hot oats with sugar and drinking hot tea.
I stayed over at my friend's house and slept 12 hours, and woke on Saturday aching but able to walk.
And then we were off to celebrate Christmas and have a full Christmas dinner in town.

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