Well, I survived the Great Storm of 2022! I don't know how though. Between shuffling from spot to spot and daring escapades to the shops, fetching diesel for the heater and going for a hike across an open field, I probably shouldn't have survived it.
I went for the relatively short hike because I felt like I was going to suffocate in my van. The walls were closing in and I needed to get out of there man, so I chucked on my boots, donned my not very waterproof coat and headed out across the field next to where I was parked. It was daylight, I had my bug out bag too so what harm could it do? Off I went, trudging across the field, the wind taking my breath away and forcing me to turn my head sideways which in turn made my lips flap in the wind like a fanny in a naked skydive. I chuckled to myself at the thought! "Flububububububub!"
As I walked, my boots got heavier as they clogged up with Bedfordshire's finest clag, which was probably really a good thing. I skirted the edge of the fields, keeping an eye out for stray wheelie bins and wild trampolines. I imagined I was the last man on earth, wandering, roaming, without purpose. It was a sobering thought as I sure felt like the last man on earth.
As I reached the corner of this particular field, I noticed a familiar sight. A derelict bunker. "Probably full of shit and empty beer cans and stinking of piss no doubt" I mumbled. I found the steps down and scrambled through the brambles that had grown over the doorway as if purposefully to protect it. As I ducked under the low doorway and entered, I found myself shocked beyond belief! There in front of me was the interior of a completely un-vandalised bunker! Not a scrap of graffiti and totally void of any rubbish. Not even a used needle on the floor!
Out of the wind, I thought it would be a great place to have a bit of snap and a brew. I'm ex-forces myself, so I didn't feel like I was disrespecting the bunker and its history. I lit my stove and filled the pan up with water to heat up a bag of sausage, burger and beans, using the remaining water to make a coffee. All fed and full, I packed away making sure I left it as clean and tidy as when I found it. Heading back seemed to take much less time what with the wind behind me. I thought about just laying down in the field for a bit, to watch the clouds scream across the sky but thought better of it.
I had hoped the hike would clear my head somewhat but alas, as soon as the distraction had gone my mind wandered back to its usual dark place of late. Sometimes I feel like screaming but no one would hear anyway. I wrote a pretty dark personal blog to get it off my chest and successfully made myself even worse, so off I fucked to bed. The violent wind was smashing my van about but also made a good job of attempting to rock me to sleep, like a loving mother cradling her child, soothing it to the land of never never. As I drifted off a little thought popped into my head "Is the handbrake pulled up enough?"
Up the fuck I got again! I thought about nipping round to the front in my birthday suit to check but then thought better, just in case I got blown away. Imagine this naked body rolling down the A507, arms and legs flailing around like a weird ball of tumbleweed. I got somewhat dressed and went outside to the front to check. Of course I had pulled it up. Pissing van wouldn't still be here 6 hours later if I hadn't! I stuck it in gear anyway, just in case like....
Drifting off once again, I wondered if I was to be killed by this storm tonight, how long I'd be there before I was discovered. "Better put some pants on, just in case."
Todays totally irrelevant fact: If you yelled for eight years, seven months, and six days, you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.