I escaped the clutches of New York and continued my voyage and now find myself on a beautiful island in the Bahamas - I know, it’s a tough life. The journey here was eventful to.say the least and started early in the morning with a flight out of JFK on JetBlue to Nassau ($45 flying standby - thanks Leo) arriving in around 1030am. I had no intention of staying in Nassau and booked myself on the next BahamasAir flight to Eleuthera ($160 open return) which meant a 7 hour wait in Nassau airport, something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

I’m still in New York, about a week longer than I had originally planned. My travel plans have been compounded now twice but I hasten to add that my travel plans are a miniscule consideration compared with what is going on here. Initially, the plan was to make my way to the west coast of the USA, such as Los Angeles or San Diego, and use that as a stepping point into Mexico. Unfortunately, just as I was preparing myself to depart for San Diego, the forest fires hit, displacing some 250,000 people and causing no end of grief for the local residents.

New York, New York. The Big Apple. Don’t think I’ve actually seen any apples, but it’s great being here anyway. Strictly speaking, I’m in Connecticut, staying with my brother in his new house in Stamford, but it seems that anyone within about 3 hours of said massive fruit describes themselves as living in New York. I just need to get this out the way first: we were robbed. Rugby, that is. I don’t care what any of my South African friends say - we were robbed.

I haven’t decided if titling these posts with the place I am or have been is the way forward, but I haven’t got anything better just yet so that’ll do for now. I’m writing this from room 3021 of the Sheraton Hotel in Montreal. That’s right - Sheraton Hotel - thanks to my brother and his Sheraton points which scored us a free stay. Needless to say, it’s something of a contrast to the Global Village Backpackers that I was in for the last week.

Well. It’s great to be underway. I’d like to point out from the start that I’m writing this on an Archos 605 Wifi. It’s a great device and I’d heartily recommend it to anyone, but it’s not quite the same as having a real keyboard, despite the touchscreen being (iPhone-beating) excellent. I’m writing this from the bar of Global Village Backpackers hostel, a funky little hostel in downtown Toronto. I got here late last night after my uber-cheap Globespan flight to Hamilton.

How exactly do you fit your life (or what roughly constitutes the stuff you need to live your life) in to one bag? Bearing in mind that you will have to carry this bag, with you, in all kinds of places, for who-knows how long whilst trying to be prepared for most eventualities. Not to mention the fact that I could quite easily set up a mobile pharmacy with all the drug-precautions I’m taking with me or give Annie Liebowicz a run for her money, lens-wise.

Well, hello. And, of course, welcome. Thanks for stopping by. I don’t know who you are, or why you happen to be looking at my wee spot ‘o’ t’Interweb, but nevertheless, thanks for being here. And for being you. Because without you, none of this would be possible. Fortunately, you *are* you, and this *is* possible, which is where we find ourselves, around about now. What this is though, perhaps requires some definition. Alternatively it’s painfully obvious: it’s my travel blog.

I actually don’t even have the energy to write a lengthy post about it all. But having submitted my thesis I have now also successfully completed my viva which means (subject to making a few corrections to the thesis) I have done my PhD. And you can call me Doctor. Not bad for 10 days in to the year, eh? And for all the doubters, sod ya 😉 The work took 4 years, the viva was 4 hours and I gained a 2 D’s a P and an H.

It’s been traumatic, it’s been difficult, horrible… A NIGHTMARE. Countless days lost to my computer. No sleep. Too much sleep. Anger. Joy. Delirium. Short-lived self-confidence. But I have finally submitted my PhD thesis. Done. Dusted. Gone. No more. Can’t do anything now. All I can do now is await the dreaded date - the bit where I have to pretend I actually know what I’m talking about. The bit where 4 people, 4 insanely intelligent people, the type of people someone might write a “how many people does it take to change a lightbulb” type joke about, for that day have only one mission in life - to rip me to shreds.

RIP Simon Wilson, 10/06/1981 - 02/10/2006. I hope you find the peace you were looking for.