I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Brandon, 50 dollars in my pocket and legs covered in rust. I spent the afternoon sanding a lady’s wrought iron patio banister, not because I’m particularly opposed to rust, but because my pants need a bit more jingle before I leave.
The time is drawing near. My freighter leaves Duluth on October 20 and I need to be on it. There are still a million things to do on this side of the Atlantic, not least of which is finding a way to get to the port on such short notice. But it’ll happen, and in one month I’ll be cycling in Europe – Belgium or the Netherlands to be vaguely precise.
Getting there . . .