A List, After Fifty-Three Days
Day fifty-three, Greece. Today I leave for Bulgaria. Along the Thracian coast I drive through fishing villages that haven't fully woken up. The people are warm. In a taverna in Porto Lagos I eat the best pasta of the journey so far.
Where I have got to:
I am no longer afraid of breaking down.
I am no longer afraid of strangers, or of situations I can't see the end of. I have started to like not knowing.
I am in trust. Not perfectly. But it has started.
I know what I want, which is this.
The whole business of sleeping in the car works, better than I expected it to.
I have found some new income over the internet, which was urgently required.
And the things that still keep me awake: the contradictions between what I feel and what I think, which stop me where I stand.
There will be an answer for those too. On to Bulgaria.
Frank Goes Walkabout