The weather was not the best last night. The temperature was merely one degree higher than ice water when I camped outside. The only good news is that I have a double-layered sleeping bag.
The rain became heavier and heavier when I was riding. It finally became too massive for me to continue the journey. I stopped at a GAS station, looked for a shop to get some hot food. Sadly, the grocery shop does not sell “HOT” food or drink. I then asked if there is cafe’ nearby.
I asked and tried to be polite, “excuse me, is there any cafe’ in this area?”
The staff replied, “yes, Cyclist. Just on the opposite corner. But They open at eleven o’clock. Wait for a moment. Let me call them first.”
Few minutes later
The friendly staff said. “You are so lucky; they are willing to open it early for you, just go in there, mate.”
 
 
 
 
 
After I crossed the road, I saw a pub rather than a cafe’…Although I love cold and crispy beer, what I need now is a cup of hot tea to warm my body. When I walked in, a lady walked towards me. She is the manager of the pub. She looked my uncommon outfit and raised a few questions to me.
After she knew that I am a traveler, she became interested in my storied. After a year of traveling, I found that stories have become my greatest fortune. I start to be able to trade food and necessaries in my stories. Also, some people would look at me with certain respect when hearing those stories that I enjoyed or suffered from. This connection between those people and I has become an essential fuel of my journey, either physically or mentally.
The next destination is one of the oldest city that brews the most innovative technologies, Cambridge.

 

 

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