Ramblings from Belgium

My latest missive comes lovingly from a Belgian motorway. Needless to say really, but at the risk of sounding like a stuck record, I'm really bored again. Belgium is a country I've become strangely familiar with over the past three months or so, for various reasons, including a mental Lithuanian truck driver, and a village called Werchter, but nothing of this sort today, in fairness, it is Belgium, it was due a bad patch.

Having very much enjoyed my time in Switzerland, despite the biblical amounts of rain received, I find myself on the way home for another short stint in the United Kingdom. I'd prefer to think of this as a familiar holiday, but instead of getting rowdy and chucking stuff everywhere, I have to behave myself for short portions at a time, fill in an awful lot of forms, pay a lot of money tto people who don't really need it, and prove to them that I'm not a HIV ridden blot on society. All of this I deem the least welcoming welcome to a country I've ever experienced.

Aside from the complete inconvenience of having to write the equivalent of a small novel of minute details and supply a wheelbarrow of banknotes to be even contemplated for entry to Russia, there are all the complicated and fiddly bits to do such as work out how much money to take, or how much of my paltry baggage allowance should be used to combat the ridiculous temperatures, and there's maybe a 1% of any of this happening prior to the night before my departure though.

I appreciate how much this sounds like a rant, and for that I make no apologies, it's genuinely going to be a massive ballache.

In order to lighten the hysteria of the plethora of dull jobs, I've decided to complement each of them with a treat, meaning I complete my application, so reward myself with a trip to the zoo, 'cos I'm really simple like that, even stapling my application together warrants a pint or two.

If I'm honest, it still hasn't properly sunk in that I'm going anywhere at all, part of me still seems to think that come mid-September, I'll still be making a tit of myself in Sheffield somewhere, and that all this is just a shit piece of coursework or something. This indicates to me that I am totally unprepared, something I'll put on my list of things to do. Be more prepared.

I do apologise if you've noticed that this post contains no actual content, but more my disconcerted ramblings at my current status quo, which probably doesn't interest anyone at all, but there we go, if you've stuck with it, you have my eternal gratitude (which may not actually be eternal, I apologise again, but that's just the way it is).

Oh, and I've just entered France. Joy.