Well. Here goes…

It’s approximately 7.15m on Thurs 21st April. I think I went to bed at 1(?) so not much sleep and I’m pretty tired. I’m not going to lie… I’m very anxious about all this. Now that I’m actually here it’s a totally different ball game than what you anticipate sitting back home. What actually, do I do if my bike gets nicked? And, where exactly do I refill my water bottles from? What the hell am I doing? The reasons why I wanted to get out and do something like this seem to totally vanish when you’re faced up to the prospect of actually having no choice but needing to do it now. I think this is normal. Just got to get on with it. I’ll get there eventually…

Day 0.

I got out of the airport, surprisingly easily actually, considering I have no return flight information and my reasons in the country are pretty silly. I thought I’d get grilled at immigration, but they let me walk straight out pretty much. I spent more time waiting for my bike to be delivered through to baggage claim than it took to get off the plane, go through border control AND customs. The taxi I had specially requested was waiting. Good start! Cheers Chet! Oh, that’s a point. I keep saying cheers and people keep looking at me funny. Might need to stop that. The hotel room is ok. Terrible wifi. I Couldn’t watch the Merseyside derby whilst setting up the bike which I wanted to because it wouldn’t stream at all but eventually I got to see the goals. But I set most of my bike up and made sure it worked ok. I have until 11 to check out. So about 3.5 hours from here to get the biked prepped for touring and arranging my gear and to stand in the shower for a few minutes. Best get to it then.

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