Departure - Friday 24/04/15

So my last day at work was quite tiring. On the train on the way home I felt particularly tired and was wondering how I was going to cope with driving to York for 3 hours into the night. I got home and set about packing my stuff into Robert with swift Germanic efficiency. (Robert is my lady's van, named after Robert the Bruce because of the letters on the number plate). Once I'd finished, which was around 7 o'clock, I hopped in and took myself off to the petrol station for fuel. After topping up and stocking up on fuel, water and chocolate I decided to kick off my traveller filthiness by stuffing my face with a McDonalds. I felt suitably dirty and headed north on the Randy Road.

I chose the A1(M) rather than M1 because I thought it would be more scenic, being an "(M)". I didn't really know what that meant but realised as I drove that this meant that the road changes from dual carriageway and motorway continuously along it's length. Now the reason I've called it the Randy Road was because I was introduced to the novelty of roadside sex shops that tightly hugged the A1(M). I counted one every 75 miles so I guess that's the period of time that a hapless trucker can't hold in his urge to purchase a dildo. I think they're missing the trick by not making it drive through though and selling creamy coffees and salty muffins. That's what I think of when I'm on the road and suddenly feel the need for some refreshment. I must be strange but then again this is the north.

As my eyelids started to droop I figured it was time to find somewhere to stop Robert and have some kip. I pulled off the carriageway and took a dark country lane and began to search the hedgerow for a place to park up. 40 minutes later I realised that I couldn't stop without the fear being rudely awakened by the police or an angry farmer suspecting I was a pikey in a white van scoping their farming treasures. Tired and feeling particularly foolish I returned to the A1(M), and with a stroke of luck I happened upon a trucker services. I pulled in and to my amusement parked Robert in the Fiddler's truck stop. Not surprising really, these truckers need somewhere to enjoy their newly purchased toys. I hope the garage stocks enough batteries!

I stumbled into the motel to buy a parking ticket (a rapey £12!) and found myself amongst 4 drunk sexshop customers eyeing me like I was new type of sex doll that they hadn't seen before. Feeling somewhat self conscious I hastily asked for a ticket and fled to the safety of the van. This was my first night alone in the van and I soon realised that it's designed for the 5'5" body that my lady sported. I wriggled around and after a very brief international call with her I fell into a fitful sleep.