Today I began my journey to Bedford. In my wisdom I decided to make the first expedition by train. As this was likely to be my most heavily laden leg I thought it would be fun to drag my trunk over platforms and through the underground.
My itinerary was:
Melton – Ipswich
Ipswich – Stratford
Stratford – Farringdon
Farringdon – Bedford
Three and a half hours later sheltering outside Bedford station I set up my cameras and began the final haul to the gallery. I am finding the case easier to pull now although it has character and occasionally performs an elaborate twisting flip. This, my occasional swearing and my tank commander’s hat with attached camera caused the inhabitants of Bedford to keep a respectful distance. By the time I arrived at the Gallery I had worked up quite a sweat and Katie suggested I “go freshen up’ (I think she meant have a wash). Then we had a quick meeting with Eva to go over what I wanted to get out of the residency. In my head all I could hear was “fame, fortune, wine, women and song” but instead I talked about sensible things. I did see a club on my travels offering free women on Fridays but I don’t think that’s what they meant. I might try to write a song. Then I started which to be honest was a bit strange. I didn’t have to be anywhere else or worry about anything except how to find the Travelodge later. I’m sure its not good for me.
I reviewed the video I’d made. Most of it is looking straight up my nose luckily the camera is slightly out of focus.
The Travelodge is a little out of town, another half an hours walk. I’m sitting at my built-in desk in my pants. I only ever do this in Travelodges, and I apologise to future users, but I think it’s my attempt at hedonism. I’ve just eaten in a pub festooned with England flags and men the size of polar bears. As I was wearing what my daughter calls my gay jumper I felt I had to order the manliest meal I could. The all day breakfast “a favourite with local customers” consists of 2 eggs, 3 sausages. 300 baked beans, 37 chips and a pint of Guinness.
Near death now, must stop writing
