I slept in again. My energy levels are so low this trip. Is it the Domsand cold that won't let me go, or bloodsucking Fagin vampires at the banks, draining my energy through my credit cards? Bitter? You bet!
Either way I skipped breakfast and sat relaxing with a cup of tea in front of the cage fighting middle weight title fight. Lazy days. Bliss. I don't need to set off until 3, so no panic. We had Elk stew for lunch, as you do! Aki enquired about my route back to the bout. "Highway I guess". Wrong answer. I'm a wimp today. He had other ideas. A cross coutry route with lots more bends to play in, then coffee and he can refuel my bike to make sure I actually make it to the ferry. If anyone at the UK banks was reading this would they get it? Dolts.
Soon enough tank full, and a final coffee with Aki, and it is time to head West. We will have other trips and adventures I am sure. I still didn't cross into Russia and St Peterburg is special (and full of beautiful women).
It never happened before, but statistically it has to happen sometime. They loaded the whole damned bout before me. I sat to one side for two hours, and when the last truck was on, they waved me up the ramp and into the tight little space at the very back of the boat, next to the ruddy great ramp, now a wall. Dinner was what was left when the truckers had hoovered up everything else. Still with so many already gone to their beds, I got a window seat to watch the islets slipping by with a beer in my hand. There isn't much really open water between Finland and Sweden. It is utterly beautiful.
5 hours sleep, skip 4:30 breakfast and hit the road south. Stockholm rush hour then onwards down the highway, 300 miles back to base. Old aircraft are artistically suspended alongside the road at Linkoping. It breaks the monotony. Into the forest at Fagerhult in torrential rain. Welcome home. Washing on. I'm out of clothes, then bed for an afternoon nap totally exhausted.
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