So this is it. The great adventure begins. Trundling along in a National Express bus. Dipping in and out of towns and cities. A midnight mystery tour. I look up and see the strangest thing. The cars on the opposite side of the motorway are all heading in the same direction as me. Maybe it’s a distortion of windows and mirrors. My mind playing late night tricks. But there at the head of the queue a blue light flashing. The Pied Piper police removing the traffic from a scene I’d missed.
Cardiff. Newport. Over the bridge. My ancestors tunneled beneath the Severn’s murky tides and brought the railway and globalisation a step closer. Forgotten heroes. Drunks. Fighters. Chancers. They came and went and left their names in local registers. Births. Marriages. Deaths. Smudged illiterate signings. Distant echoes.
I’m not a good traveller truth be known. I can’t rest my head and close my eyes and fall asleep just anywhere. If it happens I run the risk of waking in a panic. Unfamiliar surroundings. Yin and yang. Feng shui. Bristol looks busy. Seats filling up. I’m learning to embrace humanity again. Understand that we are all the centre of our own universe. That we all matter. That each and every one of us has the same rights. The seat next to me has been taken. 2.20am. Watching the clock.
Learning to be a traveller again. Being a part of the ebb and flow of humanity. Mixing in. Chillin’ out. Translating nerves into excitement. Thoughts into words. You may read some of them later. I like to steal from conversations and mix the real with the imagined. Somewhere in the middle lies my life in all its poetic wanderings. You may just have stumbled in. Sit back and enjoy the journey.