Well, a lot has changed over these last two weeks!

From the hills near Aberystwyth and up to Edinburgh, everything was going according to plan. I camped out near Manchester, and called in at Durham to see some friends. I was so ready for a few weeks staying in one place after being on the move so much, having driven from Portsmouth to Plymouth, to Bath, over to Aberystwyth, and up all the way to Edinburgh. Since leaving in May, I had driven over 2,000 miles around the UK.

Hugo, the 11-year-old labradoodle, was an absolute charmer, if a bit stubborn. If he didn’t want to go a certain way while out on a walk, he would make no secret of it and dig his paws. I quickly learned that if I wasn’t taking him to the nearby park, he was not interested. Funnily enough, there was a café there that sold dog treats. Coincidence? I think not.

Having spent a lot of time largely alone, I decided to take myself on a solo date to a comedy show at The Stand, and honestly, I laughed myself silly! So much so, I leapt at the chance to get a free ticket to go again a few days later. While in Edinburgh, I gave into my long-burning desire to get a skateboard; I was excited to pick up a new skill and figured that given its prevalence around the world, I would be able to find skate parks everywhere and get to meet new people and make friends within the community wherever I went. After watching several tutorials, I went out the back of the home I was sitting in , padded myself up, and had an absolute blast. I spent a few hours out there, getting used to the sensation and figuring out how best to stand. The following day, I did exactly the same thing, and began thinking that this may well be a great idea.

On the third day of my newfound interest, I decided to brave going to a real-life skatepark. Not to learn how to do kick flips or anything like that, but to experience non-bumpy concrete and see other people I might learn from or maybe form a friendship with. And it was great, I spent maybe an hour there practising turning, talking to some other boarders, and even venturing down a few ramps; I was quickly picking up confidence. But then, disaster struck. Going down a ramp I had been on a few times before. I reached the bottom and levelled out, but felt my balance wobble. And then it happened. My board came out from beneath me, and I landed on the side of my foot, and it rolled. Snap. Crackle. Pop.

The next few minutes were a blur; kids rushing over and shouting for their parents, being lifted to the side and put in a seated position, having an ambulance called for me. I didn’t hit my head, but the intense pain radiating from my foot overwhelmed my senses to the point I couldn’t hear or talk properly. Thankfully by the time the ambulance arrived my head had cleared of the shock and with a fist bump from several of the kids, I was loaded up and shipped to the hospital where I discovered the extent of my injury. Mild ligament damage and a broken fibula. And just like that, my newfound dream of becoming the next Tony Hawk was dashed.

Fast forward a few days of self-pity and my knight in shining armour arrived. Graham, my brother-in-law, had made the long journey up to Edinburgh from Canterbury to bring both me and my car back to stay with him and my sister. Words cannot describe how truly grateful I am to him for doing this for me. But if you are reading this Graham, from the bottom of my broken ankle, thank you.

And that brings me up to now. I’ve done a lot of reading, and played a few games. But with my newfound immobility and travel plans put on hold, it is time for me to have a long hard think about what I should do with myself. I am one week into a twelve-week recovery, so there is no real rush. But I don’t want to just sit on my arse (any more than I have to) doing nothing. I don’t know what comes next, but whatever it is, I am sure will be marvellous.

Reading, laughing, and rolling (my ankle)