The Omar Roadshow

–Kicking Rocks

Yesterday the tenancy ran out on the small cottage I've been renting in the Snowdonia National Park. It was time to kick rocks, so now I'm back on the road. I don't have my next property booked (although I do have a few options in mind), so I've decided to hitch a ride with a friend of mine, an old-time ex, who is driving to Italy to see his family (he'll drop me off somewhere en route).

I may not blog too often while I'm living out my latest “road movie”. But I will try to maintain this post as a photo journal (wifi signal permitting), so I can share some snaps with you as I travel across Europe with an ex, my dogs, a cat, a stick, my armbands and three potted plants (herbs, pictured above). Ain't life funny?!

Last night I stayed in one of them quintessentially British south coast hotels, on a promenade (pictured below). It was quite charming – I kept expecting to bump into Miss Marple or Poirot, in the lobby. I woke up at 5am, went for a walk and then had kippers for breakfast. 

Me and my ex are fighting like cat and dog - which is ironic seeing as the cat and dogs I'm actually travelling with are rubbing along just fine! With a bit of luck, I'll be crossing the English Channel in the next couple of hours (eeek!).

Apologies in advance if I take a little while to reply to comments/mail or if my posts are a little messy – I doubt I’ll be online as much as I usually am.

Wish me luck. And please, please, please, let me take you with me.

–Cheyelle

Update#1: Troyes

friday, May 13^th 

Today I woke up somewhere in north-central France; a place called Troyes. The outskirts of the commune are little rough around the edges, but the old town is an absolute delight. It's all so medieval – I kept expecting to bump into Dogtanian and the Three Muskerhounds! My suite is proper bling, and last night I had moules marinieres for my tea – I love a crustacean. Here are some shots of the delightful old town and my hotel. Later today – Lyon.

Update#2: Lyon

Saturday, May 14^th

I dunno? Maybe it's because I've been living up a mountain in Snowdonia for the past six months, but I wasn't really feeling Lyon. The city, for me, was slightly claustrophobic. Perhaps I was just having an off day? I went for a walk on my own and nearly got run over by a motorbike. And then the owner of a baguette shop shouted at me cos my French wasn't up to scratch - I was holding up the queue. He was a short man with a shorter temper! On the way out of town, we passed a red light district. Seeing the prostitutes, kerbside (pictured below), under the midday sun, made me feel guilty about the fact I was just passing through. Maybe I'll return…one day.

Tomorrow – Cannes. The film festival is on, so perhaps a different type of whore and angry little man await me?

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