Why can't I ever remember?
Bookies: Paddy Power, William Hill(now closed), Admiral Casino Slots, tobacconists, The Three Legs, Barclay's bank, The Money Shop and this is The Headrow. Further down, on eastgate Victoria Gate and it's a temple to nothing. Further up and it's cheap £1 pasties. This is the left side of The Headrow.
Climbed onto the 52, but it must've moved 20 metres before grinding to a full stop. All up the Headrow it was buses wedged together going nowhere. Climbing back off the bus I headed home: Alfred can wait until another night.
***
Stop trying to return up the old roads.
They don't lead you anywhere good
And you know this! Listen to the other voice as it is the only way you'll ever find
Peace of mind. It's all up to me. It's always been up to me.
***
But it happened yet again. I drive myself crazy. Another day where I've had to hide from the world which works black magic turning me into pickle!
This I loathe, but I cannot remember to stop it!
After a long and very intensive walk, from Wetherby to Otley, via Armscliffe Crag, where every field was a bog, puddles were muddily deep, where tractor tires had cut the path into a slippy mess and my whole body ached with the exertion in every step! After Riffa Woods I was forced to walk the next five miles with water in my boots - due to an impassable ford on the beck, bulging beyond its banks, where the water was up to my thighs and over the of my gators - stumbliy into the Black Horse Inn exhausted and desperate for isotonic refreshment, in the shape of Kirkstall Breweries Single Hop Ale! One turned into two, three, excetera and I finally got back to the flat and ate something a little passed its best which keep me next to the toilet most of this morning ...
It's been another "reset" day - one of thousands. It's forced my hand to book a way away from the temptations over Christmas. So I'm returning to where I left off in Toledo and carrying on on the Camino del Sureste because I chose sanity over insanity, again, today!
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