I think probably SJ, the Swedish train company is the one who provided the best service so far. The train was on time. It was very clean and the seats were comfortable even with my height. There was no hustle like Eurostar's butt inspection in London. And last but not least the pricing was also good( 395 SEK~£34 for 525km).

The view was gorgeous. Pine trees lakes and small towns all along the trail. And when I arrived to Stockholm... It was beautiful. The little islands the architecture the view. It was proper Disney like. I didn't know too much about the history of their traffic but it just seemed effortlessly organized. It was like "silly, this is Sweden ofc it's sorted." There were bikes, few cars, electric rollers, scooters. The city was perfect.

Besides preventing to unwillingly spread my DNA too early WoW had an other positive effect on my teenage life. I collected knowledge about the festives of the world like my bike collects mud. I knew what midsummer is before it was even thing! Okey maybe not that early but quite early for sure. And once I travelled to a girl in Belgium on midsummer's night and in my first summer working with deliveroo for some uncertain reason there was a midsummer festival in Chester and they blocked the whole city center. IDK why I'm so proud of knowing midsummer... Anyways! I can say I have some pretty solid memories with it but this year I totally forget about. Especially when I planned this trip. And unexpectedly the most or after Christmas second most important event of the year in Sweden is midsummer. It was from 21 to 23 and I was staying from 21 to 23. First time I felt like I just clearly got lucky. Not just find something good in my misery, but legit lucky. I thought I could join some midsummer event, maybe meet other midsummer enthusiasts in the hostel. Dance barefoot with flower wreaths on our head around the fire. I was so high on midsummer. Then I arrived to the hostel. They charged me an extra 60 Krone, what was not included on the bill, but I didn't care too much until they got me into the room. It was like a prison. No, wait! Prisons have windows at least. The guy who had the downer doss of the bunk bed and was also smelly af just told me that he used the pillow from my bed cus he needed two. I was like "just keep it and go fuck yourself."  I don't even use a pillow for more than hugging it, and when I don't have one I just replace it with the corner of the blanket, but I really hate the "better say sorry than ask for permission" attitude.

I got my bedsheets on and left the hostel browsing on my phone for some midsummer event in Stockholm. The first page was an article that said that midsummer is usually celebrated on islands because of better view and Swedish people usually leave Stockholm for the festive. I was giving up on Stockholm I wanted to focus on resting and on writing. Was just walking back staring the screen of shops. Just realized it was 20 years Harry Potter anniversary, I tried to figure out the Swedish tittles of the books, was good fun.

On my way back to the hostel I saw an Uber eats driver. I started talking to him about doing uber in Stockholm and took a photo of him and his moped. I felt like documentary film maker. So I got a little confident about my new "quest". I went to talk to the two blondest girl I could find. I explained them my new mission about taking photos of people and asked them if they agreed to represent their city as the stereotypical Swedish according to probably everyone who's not been to Sweden. They were nice and cool about it. They agreed, but also said that they indeed are not from Sweden. I think it would've been my turn to be cool and say something like it's ok just pretend that you're Swedish, but it was more like "ok... nvm thanks, bye.."

Most of the time I'm not like this but that pillow thing really got me out of character. Went back to the hostel and just slept.

Next day because of the dark(lack of windows) I slept a lot and even after I woke up it was really hard to motivate myself to go out and do something. The lack of natural light screwed my mood. On the cost of hard effort I get out from the hole and get some food. After a few minute walk I got a little better and start exploring the city. I still don't even know where I've been just took pictures of stuff I liked. They can be world famous attractions or just random stuff IDK, but they were pretty.

I start walking towards Skansen, but on my way I got distracted by a ship that transported people to the ABBA museum. I decided to visit it, was too late unfortunately. So made a plan to come back next day. Went back to eat and wash my clothes. The guy on the reception told me that he is not trained to help me with the washing machine. I had a really hard time to hide my thoughts about this sentence.

Back in the hostel I sat in the communal area and made my new signature 'peanut butter - banana - blackberry - seeds' sandwich. For the first time in my Stockholm staying there were people who talked, I mean had a conversation. "Eyy son! Back to the civilization!" Usually I just ask something really fucking obvious. It wasn't different this time either:

 - are you guys from the US? - guessed the accent.

 - yes I am! She is from Georgia.

I didn't know why he was so specific about the state, so I tried to make a joke about not knowing the US, as usually Americans don't know Europe:

 - like the Georgia around the black sea? I know Georgia!

 - yes exactly! That's it! - said the girl.

 - wow now we got something to talk about! - must be a long story how you know eachother from the US and Georgia!

 - we just met here. - he said.

 - fair enough.

And from there we just start talking about stuff and went for a walk to find nice views.

There was an observatory building on a top of a hill, where Keti took us. Felt like out of the three of us she knows the city the most. She has also been to Norway and her bus was departing at the same night, so this was her last walk saying goodbye to the city. She was wearing a pair of Tisza shoes. It is a Hungarian brand named from the river. They used to make work shoes but at some point they rebranded themselves to make durable casual shoes. I still have a pair from 2010. Once I read that book about learning languages and it mentioned a guy who was traveling and learning languages. And he spoke like 17 or something and when he finished his journey he hang his shoes on a fence of a church in England. I was thinking of doing the same to my pair of Tisza, but because of the hole on their bottom I wasn't gonna risk it. I went similarly crazy when I saw her shoes.

When Jacob didn't know ABBA she start playing the dancing queen from them on the gypsy speaker(phone's speaker). It was her signature move. If she wanted to hear a song she just played it. So we three were walking in Stockholm listening probably the corniest song that we could listen there and just kept laughing. Jacob was from the south, he had a gun (not with him) and was driving, but when talked about europe and cycling he seemed to be quite open about this way of transportation and life. He was missing his job what was maintaining luxury yachts- so we couldn't really blame him for that. He also had a great talent of making fucked up jokes without offending anyone or being weird. When I was talking about the midsummer and about that it is at similar level with Christmas, he went on with the topic and talked about the Christmas in the US. He was really keen on it talked about the lights, the feeling, the Christmas songs. He also said he wants to take a girl on a date to see the Christmas lights cus it is so romantic, but wasn't too lucky at that period of the year so far so this year probably he will pay for a hooker to see the decorations. Just killed the whole thing he built up like in 10 minutes. At the same time when he mentioned the Christmas songs Keti put on her favourite one on her phone. We were walking in Stockholm in June listening Christmas songs and Jacob's ridiculous ideas about romance and Christmas. This is how we spent the rest of the night slowly getting to the bus station where Keti left us.

Before he went to prepare for his next day early morning leaving talked about Stockholm and stuff to visit, that I didn't see, because nextday the guy who was "trained" to operate the washing machine put some 4 hours program so I didn't have time to visit anything... Not even the ABBA museum and after having some breakfast I just aimed the ferry port. On my way I almost stepped on a table cloth full of bracers and other handmade jewelleries. They looked really cool. I bought one and stayed for a little talk. They were made by a Swedish girl who had dreadlocks and a Chilean guy. They were just travelling with the summer between Chile, Sweden and Peru where they got the stones for the jewelleries from. They asked if I learned something in Swedish during my say.

Och halvblod prinsen

I actually managed to wake up at seven. No snooze, no bs just get up and start doing stuff like a boss. I might have got a bit overconfident and had a shower that wasn't calculated before and as a result, I  had to run, almost jump to catch my train to Osnabruck.

Anyone remembers when I said Germans are hardshell wankers when it comes to trains? My first German operated Osnabruck-Hamburg train was 55 minutes late. When I asked for a refund for the shit service ofc they had some fucking paper form to fill and send it back via post. I couldn't do it cus I didn't have a printout ticket or the opportunity to get a confirmation of my mobile ticket what I was supposed to attach to the form. It felt a bit hypocritical how organized they were about their own problems, and how chaotic it was for the customers. Just for comparing  once my £23 virgin train was late and they paid £50 for a taxi to make sure I get home.

The original itinerary would be something like Amsterdam->Osnabruck->Hamburg->Fredericia->Copenhagen

We missed the one from Hamburg to Fredericia so we had to go to Flensburg and from there...

From there the train wasn't even operating and we had to take the bus.

Waiting for the bus I recognized a lady from the Hamburg station information desk and a girl was also there who I helped to take her baggage off from the Amsterdam train. The lady was traveling to Kolding the girl was also traveling to Copenhagen. At this point I still wasn't too social, but the lady took the extra legroom seat so I sit with her. She was a teacher  from the Netherlands. When they stopped the bus and checked the passports she told me that last time she had a bus trip she kept saying to the kids not to forget the passports and then she forget hers. Was funnier as she said it. She also heard some guy talking in German and mentioned a town called 'Tinklev'. In theory from there we could get to Copenhagen by a direct train. I start checking it on tinternet. Couldn't find any evidence of the existence of that train. Turned back to find the girl with the heavy ass baggage and told her the new information anyways.

Not much after we departed the buss driver mentioned Tinklev, the mysterious direct train and made some joke in German that he repeated in English. Most people were laughing both times.

I was bit hesitant, I lost my trust in the German public transport and at least the bus would take us to Fredericia for sure...

- Fuck it! - I thought - I hate buses too much for this bs.

Probably non of us would ever heard about Tinklev without this fiasco. It was only a few buildings, supposedly belonging to the train station, and the train station. On the timetable there was only one train. It was going to KPH. I was almost sure that it is København(Copenhagen), but there was someone else who also invested more than 5 seconds into staring the screen and on the bus I get in a bit chatty mood so asked if he's more certain about the meaning of KPH.

He was equally sure or unsure as I was. So we just agreed it is better not to be bothered by this question and talk about other stuff. The girl with the baggage just shown up when he said that he came from Amsterdam.

-do you know who else is coming from Amsterdam? - I asked.

-you?

-of course I am, but she is as well!

In the next moment we had a proper little social gathering.

The girl, Patricia lived a year in Amsterdam and she was moving back to Denmark. She was originally from Katowice.

The guy was called Marty. He was from Melbourne. And he was on an interrail trip and was also heading to a wedding in Copenhagen.

We were sitting by the baggage area. When I was talking about Chester and mentioned that we residents or natives are called Chestrians Marty just quickly renamed it Chestiez. The 3 hours trip went really fast, we just kept laughing. And Patricia shared lot of useful information about Copenhagen.

From the train I saw it heavily raining outside and there were also thunderstorms. I was regretting that I cancelled my Copenhagen accommodation. I knew I could make it with the survival blanket, but I wasn't gonna use it on the third day of the 110. The weather was discouraging, I start looking for a new accommodation. On booking everything was gone. I found something for £56 but I'd have felt too stupid If I had paid that amount when my original hostel was £43 for two nights. From the train station I get a bus towards the Bellahøj Camping.

It wasn't pissing down anymore but it was still rainy. The Camping had a little shop/reception. Where they welcome me with a big "the shop is closed for today!"

This was like the shop is closed not because it is 1AM, but because I can't be arsed to deal with one more person who doesn't know the clock.

The guy was about 70 but still the same height as me and about four weight division above.

-I just would like to check in. - said after a few seconds of hesitation.

-uhh so you want to check in now?! - raised one of his eyebrows and wrinkled his forehead for a long second - Come on in my friend! See what we can do!

It was £9/day including the campground and facilities. Leaving the comfort of the reception cabin and the rain brought my motivation  backt ask a favour:

- excuse me! By any chance, would you have a 125cm stick?

-a stick?

-yeah you know a staff of a mop or something

-a staff?

-a 125 cm staff, yes please.

-follow me!

We get to the next cabin where the only item was a 125 cm alloy rod leaning to the wall.

- like this? - he asked like it was there in the past 20 years and he'd be suspicious why anyone would ask for it now.

- exactly like that.

- what do you need it for?

- my tent has a single pole design it is for that one.

- take it, but bring it back when you check out!

- of course! Thanks a lot. 'nite!

Even most of the tents were set by the fence or trees, I felt more comfortable to set mine in the middle of the field.

As a result I hadn't even opened the package of the tent since I purchased it, I had no idea how to start. I sticked the pole into the wet earth and started to improvise. Not having tent pegs didn't help either.

I put one shoe in one corner, an other one to an other corner, my back pack in the third and my food bag in the "last" one. I only found out next day that it had six corners.

I slept reasonably well. After I woke up I rented a bike for 80 DKK(~£9.5) and bought 500 gramms of Danish bread. It was like a 2" x 2" x 2" cube and hard AF. It was running out of date so instead of 12 DKK I had to pay only 5. After I had my breakfast in the nearest park I was ready to ride.

So let's talk about cycling!

I think that the history of cycling in the Netherlands is a bit over romanticised. As I felt in the city, from the government's side I would consider it as the outcome of the 1973-74 oil shortage rather than people protesting against cars killing children. I mean it must have played a role, but please. It feels that it isn't the outcome of the willingness to build something good, but destroying something bad(cars). And felt more like the people following the rules rather than the rules following the people's needs. In Amsterdam I had the feeling that cars are intentionally just fucked over, and it would be stupid at a personal level to drive. People seemed to be discouraged to use cars. While in Copenhagen it felt like people were encouraged to ride and they did it for their own good and for the city as well. It just felt like people would naturally know what good for them(cycling) as a community. Denmark had the first organization in Europe for promoting cycling as public transport and when people in the Netherlands were protesting against cars, people in Denmark had their annual protest for making the cities more bike friendly. There were relatively few roads where cars were banned from. And actually I think Copenhagen must be one of the best cities to drive. Everyone's cycling, so there's no traffic. And cyclists are basically never on the road, because there are cycle lanes everywhere. While in Holland I saw many prohibitory signs against bikes public transport, the Danes had their bikes on the train. Bikes were on the train without a designated place, ans nobody was whining about it. People were just cool and cooperative without having a fucking rule. 

So I was riding my rented bike being in love with the vibe of the city. I went to Cristiania, because I promised to a friend and I wanted to see how a hippie district is in such a lovely place. It was disappointing. The populated area was just a tourist bazar with weed. I felt too good to take any. I rode through the district. There were a few houses by the river in the forset. They were pretty, but not because of the try hard anarchy but because of the preservation.

After I rode through every road, I could say I've ridden in Christiania I started to search on the map for a place to go. I wanted to do something chill, just enjoy the vibe. Never been to museum since I left school, but I wanted to visit the Zoological museum.  And I also have never been to a museum alone, now I'm not sure if I'd ever go with someone else. I stopped, by every story to read them. And it was actually cool. After the museum I cycled to a beach, but it wasn't too interesting so I went to a near park and get a few sticks for tent pegs. Finally I set my tent "properly" and had a nice afternoon nap.

I woke up for a female voice. She was offering pastries to someone not too far away. I was like "wait I've got a friend who got pastries from a randon girl before!" So I sticked my head out. There was a guy on a touring bike with 5 paniers and stuff, my déjà vu got more intense(as my mentioned friend also prefers to take his favourite sofa with him on a touring bike). After the girl rode away we start talking. Pierre was riding from France. Our main common interests were traveling, and Slavic girls. He also had the "why not?!" attitude. So when next morning he invited me for a coffee that he made, we also made a plan to get our life together and go for a yoga class that is instructed by the girl he get the pastries from. It was at 1130. We really couldn't find a reason "why not" to go, but I still had some tobacco left from my Amsterdam kit and he also had some French tobacco  so we got way too comfortable with the coffee, we swapped tobacco for a roll. He had a big chunk of hash in his pocket. I asked if he's sure about that he's not been to Christiania. He got it from France through the bloody Germany and Denmark. He made that bit on train so basically one day. Was funnny that he still risked it when he could get from Chrisiania. I talk to him about my new "spiritual experience" with Copenhagen why I didn't smoke. Then really start getting my life together but it was already too late for the yoga. I went to check out and returned the rod. The same guy who told me to bring it back offered me that I can keep it if I need for the rest of the travel. I told him that I wasn't gonna carry it and I'm hoping to get an other one when I need it.

"You cheeky motherfucker!" - he was laughing. 

I left Copenhagen with the thought that one day I could be living there, maybe repairing bicycles or something.

Arriving to St Pancras International(London) I had a bit different expectations. I thought mine would be just a train like any other one. In Hungary when we used to have Budapest Moscow, it was just on the time table like any other train. After my astonishment was gone I started to follow the eurostar signs till a point when I arrived to an airport kinda place. I looked over the crowd to find any evidence of people freaking out. Everyone was calmed even at the baggage checking place, so I realized that this is just for the show and probably this place works as an airport should: "if you don't have a bomb or excessive amount of drug in your baggage you're cool to go. No drama!"

When I got through the gates I found out that we have two stops: Brussels and Rotterdam. I also wanted to have a stamp in my passport, so I let people passing me, but then they directed me to an other gate where the lady wasn't so generous with the stamp and I didn't get one... Other than that I was happy with the service. There were two elevator one for the coaches 1-5 and an other one for 6-10. Ofc we, the passengers as good Europeans took the wrong ones and everyone was wandering around the platform to find the right coach. I found my seat and started my travel. Eventhough usually I'm a son of a bitch when it comes to fight for the arm rest this time I wasn't in the mood just let the other lad take it. I wasn't in the mood to interact. No fight for the armrest, no talk... When we stopped by Brussels he got off. All the tension and stress that built up in the past weeks was still on me.

On the train my friend from high school, Máté who lives in the Netherlands started to text me giving instructions to the city. "Here you can rent a bike from: <link> and here you can buy weed close to the station: <other link> Go see Rénó(an other friend), he works in a bar, go, see him!<facebook link of the bar>" Apart from the bicycle I followed every instructions: first I get to a coffee shop. I would have never thought that a place where I can buy and smoke weed could be anything but 10/10, but it's fucking Holland they managed to do it. I wasn't going to the coffee shop to smoke spliff, I went there to see a little bit of the city, but it was just a soulless place where they served weed. Regardless of my unfulfilled expectations, weed is still weed and I calmed a bit and went to visit my friend, Rénó. I just shown up at his workplace hoping it isn't too busy. Just said to a guy in the bar who I'm looking for. He didn't get it, so asked his manager. The other guy didn't know either, so I just said a guy from Hungary. "Uhh Emra! I'll have a look!"

After a minute later he came back with some guy who was two sizes larger than my friend, had shaved head, and beard.

I was like "fuck sake Máté pranked me..."

-Ben! Can believe you came to see me! What a surprise!

Even I realized that he was somewhat Turkish and Rénó wasn't his real name, my mind was still struggling with processing other changes he went through. I just kept repeating to myself "4.5 years...4 and half years"

Strangely Holland had changed his character more than he changed his look. 4 and half years... I wouldn't thought before that orderliness is something that he could co-op with, but seemly he was doing well.

I get to the hostel. I was walking just enjoying the empty city. The lights were not as light as I was used to, and still being a bit high I felt like in a film noir. After I walked two hours - I mean it felt like but it was about 20 minutes - I took the tram. I got a one hour ticket, I just had to check in and check out when I get off from the tram. For 3.2 euro it seemed to be a real budget, I calculated that I could use only one for my staying.

Next day I didn't set an alarm just woke up naturally. I could barely catch the breakfast. A small group of Brits left their plates on the table why some kitchen guy was shouting at them explaining how the system works and where they were supposed to put their plates after finish.

He was right, but it was strange for me that they actually prioritized the rules over being nice to their customers. After the UK 15C° I had a really hard time with the 25C°. And the building of the hostel just amplified it. I more or less get my life together get some food from Lidl and start thinking of doing stuff. With Máté we had a meeting scheduled in Rotterdam. I had 3,5 hour for Amsterdam. I didn't have a better idea in that weather and timeframe so I ended up in an other coffee shop. This one was a cool one, noone bothered me if I wanna get a drink or anything, the furnitures were more comfortable. And the whole place just had a better vibe. I stayed there like two hours. Just keep rolling spliffs and write. After that I went to the train station. I was thinking if I can leave sooner. It doesn't really matter where I wait and for some strange reason I was more interested in Rotterdam than in Amsterdam. I couldn't leave early and on the train station I also realized that I didn't wake up for my bio clock alarm, but probably because of the heat. I felt asleep and only woke up 10 minutes before my departure.

With  Máté we had a lot to catch up an other 4 and half years. I can't really remember if it was a joke about coming from such an economically stable country as Hungary or we really didn't give a shit, but we spent a good few hours in a coffee shop buying only one preroll for 3€ and keep rolling spliffs from the weed we get from somewhere else.

After the coffee shop we had 1-1 bucket of Ben and Jerry's then went to a gay pub. First idea was just to have a beer in a pub, but when we were walking by that one, he made a joke for going in and I thought he is as open minded or at least tries to pretend to be as it wouldn't be a problem for him. Ending up gay Heineken tested the same we passed the westerner test. From there we went to the Erasmus bridge than to the trainstation. We both got the last train before midnight and I got back to the hostel at half 2, and set the alarm for 7.

Meeting Máté made me realise that I'm probably not that adaptable as I thought before. I thought I could move countries like birds do because of the seasons, but I surely wouldn't be able to make the changes that requires to live in the Netherlands. I met the last friend on my way I know. From now it's all unknown. Feels like the real start of the journey is from Amsterdam to Copenhagen.

After I booked even more planes and the route outlined more, I received an other email from Real Russia. They asked for a cover letter for my Chinese visa application. The letter should provide an explanation of overbooked Xiamen Airbnb, a missing inbound ticket from Vladivostok to China and from Hongkong to mainland China and for an explanation why I want to go to Xinjiang, to a warzone. It is war zone with no war, I mean without the thing that we consider war.

A quick disclaimer: even I mentioned Airbnb here, I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. The host set the price for 50% in case of the staying extends 28 days. And apparat from the first month the cancellation was free. When I found out that I can't apply for a 90 days visa, my first thing was to cancel the last 5 weeks of the 9 weeks staying in Xiamen. However when I tried to do it, Airbnb calculated the new price without the monthly discount. So I'd pay almost the same for 4 weeks as for 9 weeks. I called their customer service and it was horrible. I spent 3 hours in the phone with some guy who wouldn't consider if it might be a problem on the website, on their end and he wanted to negotiate the host. After 3 hours he "negotiated" a new price that would be like 5% off instead of the 50. I had an other 3 hours call. Then started to talk to my Chinese host. He was very cooperative. He told me he set the discount and he doesn't understand why they are not calculating it, but he will do everything for making sure I don't pay more. The one who I had the second call with started to message me. She didn't consider that it might be an error on their side just wanted to "negotiate" again... If the host was less correct he could just keep and extra 125 quid because of the fault of Airbnb. Anyways... She "negotiated" the correct price and this time she could make the calculation properly. Later I looked up Airbnb's customer service reviews. They had 1.7/10 out of 2700 reviews. They are bad.

So my Airbnb stay is 24 days but I could cancel only to 30. So I had to explain why I booked that 6 days if I want to go to the Philippines. In the cover letter I just explained the Airbnb policy and the whole situation, without the whining.

When I talked to Real Russia they suggested if there are too many things to explain it might decrease my odds of getting my visa. So I wanted to explain as little as possible.

Tried to provide as much information as possible and get the exact number of the bus that I was gonna travel with from Vladivostok to China. I find the bus. Also wanted to provide the time table of the bus as a proof of it's existence and I could just say "yeah, I'll take the 865 bus at 11AM." I get the time table and... The bloody bus was not even operating on Sunday. The last day of my Russian visa was Sunday. So I couldn't stay to Monday, but because the planes from and into China were booked and paid already I couldn't go sooner. I needed to find something for Sunday.

Idk why but I wanted to avoid Beijing... Ending up I booked a flight to there anyways.

Although I had plans for my second entry I wanted to keep my options open. On 61seat I found this Chinese train ticket agency.(China DIY travel) They booked my Hongkong to Guangzhou ticket for a 10$ fee. If I read the full description on 61seat I'd see in the next sentence after the link that they have a 5$ discount code... The agency's services were brilliant. They sent me emails personalised to my journey and me. It felt like someone is actually taking an effort to provide me a good service. I asked them for a confirmation that I could use for my visa application they even gave me information about the visa application - it was more or less something like "don't worry about the visa!" - but still... On TripAdvisor they had 479 excellent and 4 good reviews out of 483. They made an objectively excellent job.

I had no clue about the warzone thing. I just wanted to cover as much of China as I can. I had the ticket and wasn't gonna waste it. So I called Real Russia to discuss if the Chinese could be convinced by my "why not?" explanation. Stacey said that they had a few visa rejections with better reasoning, so she doesn't think so. When I asked what I should do she just suggested to use booking and book something else and get a refundable outbound ticket from somewhere else.

My new official plan is to visit the forbidden city, the clay army , the great wall and all the stuff that probably look exactly the same on photos than leave China to Seoul.

Probably this wasn't such a cheeky trick. I think the visa centre knows it too, because they have a computer with booking.com for getting confirmation letters if they are missing. So I'd guess it's more of a formality than a practical thing.

The Chinese visa centre was a funny place tho. They had a coordinator who was just naturally a loud speaker. He reminded me the preacher guy in Chester, and I can't describe him in a more politically correct way. He was leading people to take pictures of them to take their fingerprints, he ordered them to collect their passports. Tbf it was efficient af. We could skip the queue because if Real Russia. We(two who people who applied for a visa through Real Russia and my humbleness) just handled them our documents, then photo 10 seconds, fingerprints 15 and we were good to go.

Previously I didn't know what to expect, so I left like two hours for the visa centre. In my spare time I had a coffee and breakfast in 'Look mom no hands'.

The food was surprisingly nice, the coffee was surprisingly shit and the people... Idk I had strange expectations. Like everyone cyclists, maybe curriers... But in reality I'd had been happy to hang around people who've ridden a bike before in their life at least once. At least their mug looks cool. After my London expectations let me down, my Stoke on Trent expectations did not. We had a little meeting on Jim's boat and from Stoke we canalled down to Stone in two days. Kevin just started his journey from there and I started to say goodbye.