Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Of all the countless people that we met during our 1000-mile journey, these were the
only people whoever doubted we would complete the trip. They continued to mock usin a
tongue-in-cheek way, and we gave as good as we got. Their comments echoed through our
minds for the rest of the trip and we felt even more determined to prove them wrong. I sent
Adam - the most vocal of the bunch, and the obvious ringleader - an email after the trip to
revel in our glory. I didn't get a response.
The table of doubters bought us pint after pint. It felt like we were being groomed, had
it not been for the fact that none of them offered us a bed for the night. There we were, two
attractive, naïve, homeless, drunken men in a gay pub and we still couldn't find a bed for
the night. We stumbled out of that pub at about 10.30pm and into another.
This one was full of underage Goths mingling in close-knit groups. We needed to work
quickly because closing time was approaching and we still had nowhere to stay. Five pints
ofbeerhadgivenusextraconfidencesowetookitinturnstoapproachthevariouscliques.
'Alright, guys. We're not mental or anything, so don't be afraid. I don't suppose any of
you have a floor that we can sleep on tonight?' asked Ben.
Blank stares.
'We'recyclingtoScotlandwithoutanymoneyandweneedsomewheretostaytonight,'
I added.
There was still no sense of recognition whatsoever from any of the faces. They all
looked completely stoned out of their brains, and trying to comprehend anything that we
said was far too taxing. We had exactly the same response from each of the different
groups. The barman gave us half a pint of lager between the two of us, and we retreated to
a table to decide on our next strategy.
'Did you say you were looking for somewhere to stay?' asked a husky voice over our
shoulder.
'Yeah. We've got nowhere to stay tonight. Have you got any ideas?' I asked.
The voice came from a young man dressed in army combats and a black Guinness t-
shirt. He had floppy blonde hair and a goatee beard that was so goat-like that I was sur-
prised when words came out of his mouth, rather than a bleat.
'Youmightbeabletostayatmyplace.I'llhavetogivemyhousematesaquickcall,but
I reckon they'll be cool with it.'
'That would be brilliant. Thank you. What's your name?'
'Max. Sorry, I've lost my voice,' he whispered, pointing to his throat. 'I'll just go and
give them a call and I'll be back in a minute.'
Max returned a few minutes later.
'Yeah, they were cool with that,' he whispered, 'but they asked me to check that you're
legitimate and not some sort of clever con people. I know it sounds stupid, but have you
got any ID or anything?'
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