So, yeah, I left a comfortable cocoon in West Yorkshire to return to London.
And when I say comfortable, I’m not ignoring the fact that I was sleeping on a twice-folded blanket on top of an uninflated air bed or that the the roof was open to the sky as winter fought heating to a standstill or that I had to wash standing at the sink with moistened cloths due to shower leakage and one more ceiling hole.
In my life, this was comfortable.
Still, I had a show to do in London and that meant I could make some money.
Not much, but I needed it to maintain my level of comfort.
Of course, I had no funds with which to take the bus that I needed to get the coach I had to use to get the train which I intended to take me down to London. So I walked, backpack on back and briefcase in hand, to Halifax and the coach debarkation point therein contained. Fortunately, my load remained tolerable, as I’d left my clothing behind to lighten my burden.
“The Lord loves a man who travels with empty bags.” — Johann Sargus