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. (OK, maybe not robbed*.) But nevertheless England were the better side and a far-cry from the side that got drubbed 36-0 by the Springboks earlier in the tournament. Our attacking game was strong and that try could have gone either way. From where I was standing - about 12 foot from a widescreen TV in an Irish pub in Stamford, with at least one pair of beer goggles on and about 50 other English, South African, American and Irish people in a similar state - it was a try. Lewis Moody dropped the trophy for us, though, with that outrageous trip tackle - it was totally unnecessary and 6-3 would have been a much easier position from which to recover. But alas, it was not to be, and fair play to the Springboks for 80 minutes of solid defence. But equal amounts of fair play to Brian Ashton and the whole squad - nobody was expecting England to do so well and I’m pleased they were able to flick some V’s at the unbelievers. We can now look forward to regaining the cup in 4 years time.

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. And rightly so - I could have stayed there for a month for the cost of two nights here. Still, I’m not paying - minibar included - so I’m not complaining.

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. Good job I had.booked the cheap-as-chips shuttle, considering it’s some 50 miles out of Toronto. I’d also.forgotten how much fun it is.to be.on a.flight with Americans - that cheering when the computer lands the plane still makes me laugh.

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. The _we_blog I am keeping, or, at least, endeavouring, to keep, whilst I am away travelling.

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. (Though of course technically I lost an M. Hmm.)

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. You’re nothing. You’re useless. What are you still doing here? (“Cos, I got no place else to go!”. - Remember? Wayne’s World. Classic.)

RIP Simon Wilson, 10/06/1981 - 02/10/2006.

I hope you find the peace you were looking for.

WE DID IT. A totally ridiculous challenge to ride from Southampton (Hampshire, UK) to Santander (Cantabria, Spain) in 26 hours. It was about 1800km, which on the face of it seemed easily doable.

The trip started badly - I’d invested lots of time and money into a bike cam - a video camera with a bullet camera mounted to my bike to try and take some stylish video of the whole affair. Before we even got going, it was broken with no sign of life. Needless to say we went anyway, and at 7am on Monday 24th July we left Southampton fully tooled up, heading for Folkestone to catch the Channel Tunnel for 1030am. Plenty of time. It was good to be on the bike again.

List of things that Matt majorly missed the boat on, part 287:

Flickr

I only just got into flickr-ing. And it’s such a good site. Very sophisticated.