My Holiday Day One

I’m not sure if this is a sign of things to come but things did not start very brightly for me today.

There was severe congestion between Shoreditch and St Pauls and take it from me it is no fun being stuck on the top deck of a bus for the best part of an hour in searing heat.

Just as things looked clear some doughnut went and got himself/herself run over on the Tottenham Court Road and all the people who frequent that famous street were standing around to gawp and spilling into the road.

It ended up taking me over two hours to get to Victoria station, a journey that should not have taken more than thirty minutes.

I badly needed to pee as I had been holding it in for over two hours, so I went and found the toilets but the damn thing would not accept my money. Eventually after many attempts (and rubbing the coins, like this will improve my chances) I admitted defeat and went to find a shop to get some change and then successfully gained entry to the loos.

As I did what you do in a toilet I let out a sigh of relief and it was obviously a very loud sigh because when I came out to wash my hands the toilet attendant came over and said: “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

I bought some food before I boarded the train, I know from previous experience that food available on the trains is so bad and overpriced you would not give it to a rat. The trains sure have changed. There are little tables and each one has four seats. I grabbed a seat and was approached by a huge London bloke with tattoos who sat down and his two sons soon showed up to take the other two seats.

I made the error of pulling out a wrestling magazine to read. The two sons started making little comments about wrestling being childish and gay (which is it?) but their dad started going on about UK wrestlers like Kendo Nagasaki, Mick McManus, Big Daddy and company.

They were gulping down cans of Stella and openly taking speed off the table. The dad then kept telling me the most racists jokes he could think of that were not even jokes (Why did the man cross the road? Because he is a stupid fucking black bastard!)

Thankfully the train soon pulled into Lewes so I was able to make my escape. One thing that has changed regarding the buffet on the trains …. the bloody price! £3.80 for a warm can of Carlsberg?!

After a lot of hunting around (including almost shitting myself at having to cross water via a shabby-looking wooden bridge) I finally managed to track down the B&B. The guy was really nice and basically said to me that as long as I don’t wake up the other guests then I could come and go as I pleased. He also told me to pay the bill anytime before I leave and pretty much left me alone.

The room is basic. It has a bed, a cupboard, a TV (no Sky or Channel 5), a sink, a tiny fridge, a clock radio, tea/coffee facilities and some toiletries.

My aim today was to check into the B&B an then go to Seaford and have a bit of a look around and pop into a couple of their pubs and sample the local ales. Sadly I was unable to do this as it is neigh on impossible to get anywhere without the aide of transport.

I thought that I could walk the four miles to Seaford but I was only able to get about a mile along when the pavement disappears and you are walking down the side of a dangerous motorway!

I found out that the number 12 bus goes form Newhaven to Seaford so I think tomorrow I’ll catch this bus, but it only comes along like once every hour so I’ll have to time it well.

The night was still young (about 6pm) so I thought that I would check out what Newhaven’s town centre had to offer. If you have never been to Newhaven before then my advice is DON’T!

I walked into one of their pubs and everyone stopped, turned and stared at me. It was like something out of a Western movie, if there was music playing then that would have stopped as well I’m sure of it!

The place is absolutely awash with pikey scum all drinking cheap cans of alcohol.

I walked around the town centre three times (everyone eyeing me up, possibly to see if it was worth them beating me up and robbing me) and did not find one single newsagent. I had to walk to a little place called Denton to find one, over a mile away!

I was back in my room by 9pm thinking about going home. :sad:

Part Two Is Now Online To Read!

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Dean Saliba is a freelance writer, professional blogger, media enthusiast, keen long-distance runner, and huge professional wrestling fan, who covers a wide range of subjects and niches including: making money online, traffic generating, pro wrestling, blog reviews, football, how-to guides, music, internet marketing, athletics, and more.