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Welcome to the Parade of Misfortune my genuine account of what it's like to shoot yourself in the foot on a regular basis - whilst on the road.
Here you'll encounter one very confused foreigner, an utterly useless student of languages, food and booze, starvation and withdrawal, pained expressions, more pained expressions, and a good few apparently-Irish Bars.
Join me now on my quest to not return home any time soon and to remain in one (living) piece.
My treatment of the Travel Plan…
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Tom Caton
Welcome to the Parade of Misfortune my genuine account of what it's like to shoot yourself in the foot on a regular basis - whilst on the road.
Here you'll encounter one very confused foreigner, an utterly useless student of languages, food and booze, starvation and withdrawal, pained expressions, more pained expressions, and a good few apparently-Irish Bars.
Join me now on my quest to not return home any time soon and to remain in one (living) piece.
My treatment of the Travel Plan section below is one such as this;
Did your mother ever say to you "What part of NO don't you understand?" If you were the cheeky b***** I might have been, you reple "N" or "O". In this same sort of way, though quite seriously, I say to 'Travel Plans' ---> "Plans..?"
