Almost noon on this sunshine Sunday...have now been back in England just past a week....work was simply Auto Pilot..my tiny red van did not need any instructions simply went on its own accord getting out and doing the duty was the hard part so reluctant was my body protesting at every step wondering what has happened to simple shorts t-shirt flip-flops from the past eight weeks perhaps it told itself i had already retired and from now on would be the land of Riley....comfortable slippers and all that red rose white cottage gate fantasy one dreams about when working fully in the work saddle....has for the poor body evaporated...i have simply put this feeling down to advancing age...for in the past i have bounced back into the saddle quite full of glee....However life is life old Bill Bryson..and his bucket of shit life today is certainly true.....
This morning i have tried to get to grips with the mass of unpacking i still have to do...i always make a point of beginning such journeys travelling light..as i am a complete bugger for picking up trinkets along the way...i have lost count of the t-shirts i have picked up along the way a couple from each Country i have passed through..i do not throw away bus train plane tickets.....even bits of newspapers i cut out if they catch my attention for a must read when i arrive home....syndrome...my family think i am mad with all this rubbish..but then what are family at times when the cabbages lay flat in the field and scarecrows become rampantly drunk....Hot gossip is always found deep in panties and lemons fill the eyes quiet time heals all those spanners hurled ones way by for whom the bell tolls....
Each pilgrimage always leaves its mark in some small way not everything can be stored in the mind, days, dates, time, become bogged down in mind cobwebs i have always found,perhaps i am simply one of them, a Magna Carta for Plane tickets....I have let Japan dribble under my skin with a must return when i retire the country simply just eats you far to many wows....head turning and gob smacking in old school boy slang....from the smallest can of beer i have ever seen probably no more than one gulp and even at the airport flying back to Singapore the sushi..was just wonderful that good looking it was a shame to eat it....perhaps simply the people also, even there, fast pace of life there was time to stand and stare awhile..Over all, riding on the bullet train made England look  as if i am still in the middle ages and on that note back to unpack and sort out mu photo's....So Goeth...