Background to the First Two Week Road Trip Around Europe.

So the travelling bug had me, and like a prize fish my mind had reeled into the possibility of travelling destinations, from Norway to Spain.

I had recently split up with my then girlfriend, I had not been out of the UK for nearing a decade, my life and work was the same every day, as it had been for four years.

At this point my dulled mind could only focus on one thing, escape.

Escaping the tangles of a failing relationship, though we ended up getting back together before we left, escaping a never changing, never exciting life and job became my goal. Above all I wanted to escape from a life where I could say nothing about myself. If anyone had asked me "tell me something interesting about yourself" I would have been lost, my acceptance of the office world had left me with little spare money, i hadnt gone anywhere or done anything remarkable since I was 16.

And so I asked my flatmate if he fancied a trip to Poland for a week. Spur of the moment, couldn't care less, I just needed to get away from my own life.

The next day when he said why dont we just go around Europe I knew it was time for some fun. My boss kindly let me take the second week off, I quickly got my travel insurance sorted, bags packed and off we went.

I will tell of my travels in seperate posts, but on our journey we covered a huge amount of western european countries, got lost more times than was good, trashed a BMW bought for £350 on ebay (But which handled the 4500 mile journey magnificently) and met some truely fantastic and/or unique people.

When I returned from two weeks of walking random streets in amazing cities, travellling through mountains and swimming in a clear blue sea I felt happier than I have ever done in my life. The true freedom travelling brings was something that could not have been replaced by anything else within my life. When I was back in my own house I had what can only be called a feeling of regret. For another year I would be kept in the old cycle of life, no more new places, new people or new foods. I was left with a longing to get back on the road, to head for the nearest port and go off into the world once more.

The bed was bloody comfy though.

I thought it wouldbe an idea to fill you in on some of my background, family history and what actually pushed me into thoughts of travelling.

My family comes from two completely different directions.

On my Dads side I have a history of coal miners in my blood, solid tall and honest men. On my Mums side I have a history of travellers, explorers and the like.

My Granddad (Jim Ingram if you are interested) wrote several books, he travelled the world despite having partial blindness and a lame leg. He was even in Poland when the second world war began. Even with his disabilities, along with no cash he managed to travel the world, from the far reaches of Norway to the scorching heat of the Sahara Desert he travelled the world.

My Mother travelled Europe with no cash and just hitch hiking to get her from place to place, just from that she managed to see a large portion of the world.

And then I realised one day, I really want to travel. I need to get out of this country and see new things, find new places and meet new people. The oppressive dullness of office life began to consume me and I started to actually think about why I was stuck in this life of drudgery. At the time I had worked for 4 years in the same job, and had achieved nothing.

And yet my ancestors, even the most recent ones had the same problems and more, but they managed to travel to the far reaches of the Earth.

So last September, on the eve of my 23rd birthday, I packed up my bags, jumped into my flatmates BMW and we headed off to Dover where we travelled 4500 miles in the short space for two weeks. We saw a huge amount, from the rivers of Venice to the catacombs of Barcelona we travelled to some of the most cultural and historic, not to mention some of the most bloody famous cities of the world.

It was unfortunately short lived. The two week time frame left us with little time to explore the countries and the cities we visited. The mountains we passed compelled us to climb them, and yet we drove past heavy hearted. The snow laden slopes, even at the tail end of summer, left a lust in my mouth for skiing once more.

And so I returned to England with pure lust in my heart for the travelling life. My short stint, an overview if you will, of the treasures Europe held, left me with a desire to revisit the continent and further at the soonest of opportunities.

My greatest hope of escape from day in day out office labour, never changing and always dogged with depression is my ability to write will lead me into a job of travel writing, or even journalism. Of course the problem I face is that to get into that industry you have to travel in the first place!