Give it a Try. Whispered the Heart.

Today is one of those days which is not a great day.  Woke up with a horrendous back ache.  Sometimes it happens from sleeping on the lilo, which means I probably need to add more air to it because it's not hard enough.  One does occasionally need to add air to keep it firm.

Then there have been the tears. It's hormonal, but even so, on this day my dreams and hopes seem further from me than ever, and one dream in particular seems so far away.  It is a dream I cannot ever discuss in public due to it's proprietary nature.  And the tears come to my eyes when I think of it and how far away it seems, an impossible goal.  And then the doubts and self-defeatist thoughts wash through my soul with their sharp, painful edges to injure and scar me and reopen old wounds that never seem to heal.  This is one of those days when my soul feels the piercings and woundings.

And yet I sit in a place of complete basic provisions of living.  But I want a life, and that is something that always seems just out of reach.  Perhaps that's why becoming a touring cyclist means so much to me... because it's about finding life.  A life unfettered.  A life of exploration of new possibilities.

I had a hard time when I first arrived here because I was so anemic, so tired all the time and still perhaps recovering from the shock of dreams shattered.  Today I feel that shock anew.  I'm a bit put off by foreign travel now because I would be absolutely mortified if I ever had to go through customs detention like that again. I would just be permanently put off forever by foreign travel. Zing! Another self-defeatist shard just carved a chasm through my heart.

 I have started a new Sherlock book, but it's not really taken off yet for me although I know approximately what I want to do with it.  It will build on the foundation I have already established and is a sequel of sorts, but not of the mystery in the first one.

Six weeks in

I've been here now for six weeks.

In this six weeks I have slept a lot, eaten a lot (too much!), and finished writing my book.  Yes, the book is done.  It's online and available to be read but it would make much more sense if one is up to speed on all 9 episodes of BBC's SHERLOCK.  It's a good book and I'm happy with it.  So happy that I'm starting another one.  It's not a direct sequel but I'll say it's part of a series.  The response has been positive to the first book, and that's good.

Today it's raining, and we're expecting some quite heavy rain this week.  That'll be good for the drought, but it will all be dried up by next week as if it had never happened.  It doesn't seem to bother the hummingbirds who are still out there in force sucking up the sugar water like little drunkards.

On Thanksgiving day I drove the landlady and her mother into Glendale to a Scottish restaurant/pub called Tam O'Shanty's where they met with other family members.  We're going again around Christmas.  The food is great but I won't be ordering again what I ordered because I just ordered too much food.  Well, they are very generous on the meat portions, and as delicious as it was, I won't be ordering meat again.  An appetizer and a side dish are plenty.  The creamed spinach came inside a big Yorkshire pudding and that was a meal by itself.  One of the appetizers was cream cheese filled dates that were wrapped in bacon.  I could have eaten a zillion of those things.  They also had limpa bread, which is a very dark Swedish rye - dark like chocolate cake, and with a very soft texture.  I took some of that home and reheated in the toaster oven.  Very, very good.

I've been so reluctant to purchase anything outside of what I've needed to sustain myself, but I finally gave in and got a couple of pillows, a little mat for in front of the kitchen sink, and some green cloth napkins for Christmas which I will fold into Christmas trees. I also purchased the book, "The Sherlock Chronicles" which is coming from the U.K.  That will, of course, have to go into storage in about 3 months when I hit the road again.

Besides all that it's just quiet here.  I spend much of my day writing or at the computer.

Two pots of coffee per day

Today I am tired.  Some say it is the pollen.  I don’t know.  Two pots of coffee per day while I try to finish writing my book are certainly not keeping me up at night.  No, I collapse and sleep.

I am at a very difficult place in the book – the climactic big action finish, and action is so hard for me to write.  It’s like getting blood from a turnip.  I keep referring back to the old adage: “How do you eat an elephant:  one spoonful at a time.”  So I’m eating the elephant metaphorically.  Part of the issue is that as I develop the critical issues in the story, I have to go back and tweak earlier and ending chapters so that everything lines up properly:  dates, timelines, plot points.  It has to make sense.  Yes, I have 12 chapters done, but chapter 9 seems to require the most tweaking of all.  I also have the last two chapters written although what their real numbers are I don’t know.  I just assigned them numbers way out in the distance.  I know what they are because I don’t write in a linear fashion.  I write where the muse takes me and sew the pieces together. 

I have actually been surprised when writing this Sherlock book that the muse has really been quite copious with inspiration.  Whereas my book does stay pretty much in canon with where the BBC1 show has taken the characters, it also has a richness of depth about Sherlock’s past – things that are hinted to in the series but never fleshed out.  I don’t fully flesh them either, but at least I take the time to offer a plausible explanation and timeline that would never contradict anything the show has done.

One of the Siamese cats I am living with.
This one is Lionel.

One of the things I do here each day is to check the six hummingbird feeders and to refill them as needed.  I also scoop all the cat litter from the large containers – and there are 17 to do, which include the two in my little apartment.  This complex is pretty much a cat sanctuary, but the two that live with me still haven’t warmed up to me although they will come out of hiding when the landlady visits.  They are apparently sweet enough.  They do come over and sniff me.  Maybe if I dabbed myself with sardine juice they would be more inclined to check me out. 

I now have 4 new pairs of shoes, including 2 pairs of crocs, and I will undoubtedly have to send some into storage when I take to the road again.  How much of the clothing that was purchased for me that will go into storage, I don’t know.  I did empty one of my 3 food containers.  Definitely only taking ONE when I head out onto the road again. 

And while I’m talking about heading back out onto the road, let me just clear something up:  my end destination is NOT the Atlantic coast.  I don’t know where or when my end destination is.  Oh, I will go to the Atlantic coast, but I’m not stopping there.  I know for certain I want to go to the Florida Keys.    I know there are a lot of places I want to see by bike.  I know that even as I sit here in the comfort of this free apartment that there is NO part of me that wants to settle down and start all over with a lifestyle that I just purposefully gave up.  Except for basic food and toiletry supplies, I am extremely resistant to buying anything that I just got rid of.  Didn’t even want to buy a spatula.  I have such crude, basic supplies, but they work for me.  I get given a lot of food… persimmons, other fruit, bread, veggies.  Of course I had to buy laundry soap and dryer sheets.  I’ve been given lovely new towels and washcloths. A queen-sized inflatable bed was purchased for me (and the underwear still keeps pouring in).  The six pairs of socks are nice although I need to get more.  

Priorities

Had I been in Scotland as had been planned, one of the things I would have put on my schedule was to see the filmed National Theatre production of Frankenstein with Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller.  Twice.  Because they swapped the roles of the creature and the Doctor.  It's playing here in the US as well.  In fact, it was playing 2.5 miles from where I currently am staying in San Gabriel, and I discovered yesterday afternoon that it was showing yesterday night (one showing only) with Benedict as the creature.  Well, I dropped everything and made a walk for the theater.  Yes, I could have taken the bus, but finances are limited and the ticket price was already $17 (thank you Fandango for the $2 processing free!  Not!).  My left foot, which has been sore for a bit, was not entirely happy with the walk there and even less happy with the walk back.  However, it has little soreness today from the excursion.

I will say this - that Benedict was fantastic.  In fact, I kept looking at him and trying to find him... and he was so made up, his movements so distorted and his voice so distorted, that although I knew it was him, I forgot it was him.  There was nothing recognizable.  He is on stage flopping and flailing about by himself for many minutes at the beginning... and what strength he had to have to do that.  Really had to be in good conditioning... which would have been true of the entire play because it was so physical for the creature, and that I found fascinating. His voice was distorted almost as if he'd suffered a stroke.  It was all very effective.  So I'm interested to see how JLM does it when Ben is playing the doctor.  Hopefully someday this will be released on DVD.

That's what I would have done in Scotland had I been there.  Glad I can do that here.

In the meantime my hosts here have showered me with new clothing, and I really need to wash what I already have.  I have been fed every night, and I am resting.  I had a rough weekend of complete exhaustion.  I have started taking the Mannatech products again, and because my system has been so depleted, the concentrated nutrition plus glyconutrients can sometiimes make you feel a little flu-ish at first, and that's probably what happened.  Sunday was a really bad day that way, but I felt quite dizzy all weekend.  As soon as I would take any products, my energy level dropped drastically.  Now, the drop is very slight.  I can still feel it, but my body is adjusting at the cellular level.

One of the cats finally came out and sat near me last night.  Well, "near" being about six feet away.  However, he was quite relaxed about it and didn't scoot off the moment I made eye contact.

In other news, I've got eleven chapters up of my SHERLOCK book.  More chapters to come.  The book is called, "The Blackbird Sings Again," and is a direct sequel to the most recent Sherlock episode, "His Last Vow."  After I put up Chapter 11, I got the following comments from a reader: "On reading the first few pages of chapter 11, all I can say is WHY?  WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!? And now I crown you Mofftiss II...And the thing with the gravestone.  GAH.  That's so Mofftiss.  You're a bloody genius and an evil, evil person.  Maybe you should help write S4."  I was so tickled with those comments (they are actually high praise!) that I was giddy with delight for the rest of the day (yesterday) and am still very delighted.

If anyone wants to read it, I'd be very happy to share the link, but I do ask that you have seen all 9 episodes of Sherlock or you will not know who is who and what is what. All 9 episodes are available on Netflix.  I bought and downloaded them through ITunes.

"Moftiss" is a combination the the two creators of the series, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.  They are known for making you all emotional (whether happy or sad) in their Sherlock episodes and then ripping the rug out from under you in a very jarring effect to make you scream What???  Why????  And that's often how each series ends.  Then then they make you wait a couple of years for more.  This is why they are sometimes referred to as Satan and Satan's best friend.  LOL

I'm not entirely certain how many chapters are left although I have the last two written already, and Chapter 12 is nearly done.  I suspect I have a few more to write in order to wrap up the mystery.

So here I sit eating some canned tuna salad on crackers.  Writing.  Resting.

Dear Britain, My Beating Heart

Dear Britain,

You have been my beating heart since around 1968, when at 9 years old I first saw the film, "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," and it led me to love all things British and start a lifelong obsession.  After that movie it was all about "tell me more about this country where such wonderful people and talent comes from."

And while you're at it, let me wander down your quiet country lanes and old cobblestone streets to see the old thatched roofs and listen to the various accents and colloquial dialects.  I want to see the Scottish lochs, the Lake District, the Devon moors, the Shetlands and the Orkneys.  From east to west and north to south and every side road inbetween, I want to see what's there.

I want to see the locations where some of my favorite British films were shot, and I want to see locations that I've written about, that I've dreamt about, that I have held dear to my heart.

Britain, you don't know how much I love you, how much I've always loved you for years and have wanted to visit you for most of my life.

So imagine my delight when a friend in Scotland agreed to sponsor my airfare over and put me up for an extended stay.  Now, this was fortuitous as I am a touring cyclist who can think of no better way to see Britain than from the seat of a bicycle.  A fully loaded bicycle that could meander to and fro while I take my time to soak in the culture.  Britain, you also make an excellent home base for jumping into Europe for longer bicycle tours.

1 October is a special day for my friend in Scotland, so we decided I would leave the USA on that day.  Then some wonderful things began to line up within that first week of October.  First, I signed up for the 45-mile Prince's Trust Palace to Palace ride on 5 Oct.  Another friend paid my entrance fee and then I was able to raise the money for donations.  I would have to hustle on the ride because at 13:00 on the same day was a SHERLOCK screening of His Last Vow at the Hertford Theatre with a Q&A afterwards with stars Amanda Abbington and Martin Freeman.  Someone even paid for my cab fare to get from Windsor Castle to the Hertford Theatre.  Another sponsor.  On Oct. 4 I was to meet another Sherlock fan for dinner, and the two of us promised not to do too much fangirling about meeting another fan.  Afterwards I was staying with a Warm Showers host in London.

According to the Warm Showers website, The Warm Showers Community is a free worldwide hospitality exchange for touring cyclists. People who are willing to host touring cyclists sign up and provide their contact information, and may occasionally have someone stay with them and share great stories and a drink.  I've been a host 5 times in Los Angeles, and I have taken excellent care of my cyclists.  

Now, before I go any further, I should state that BBC1 SHERLOCK is my latest British obsession, and I was planning a 1-month tour of Wales to visit locations where it was shot and even the city of Cardiff where the Hartswood Studios are.  Yes, I would have toured in January, and it would have been miserable weather, but it also would have been brilliantly wonderful.

Since I was being given a ticket to Scotland (1-way), I decided that after Wales I would jump to the mainland and start cycling south to Greece with a some time in Paris with a good friend.  I have a friend in Greece who makes the most exquisitely beautifully decorated cookies you ever saw.  Too pretty to eat.  EuroVelo shows many different cycling routes throughout Europe.  Mix and match!

But darling Britain, you do not yet understand that there is a world-wide network for touring cyclists and that the network makes extended stays possible in any country for little to no money.  There are many well-known cyclists who are surviving on $5 per day.  Our plans are not set in stone because of the vagaries of weather (mostly).  We do not need to have loads of finances to tour your country, nor do we necessarily need an exit ticket to visit because chances are we won't be leaving from your lovely country when we exit wherever to go home.  We may not know when we are going home at all.  So to ask to see a return ticket is, for a long-term touring cyclist an unreasonable request.  

Some of us, like me, give up everything to start a life of cycle touring.  The world becomes the home.  So dear Britain, I gave up almost all worldly possessions, my job, my apartment, to begin cycle touring from your country.  Per my passport, I am allowed 180 days from time of entry into your country per year.

Had I known that a longer stay in your country would arouse the suspicions of customs and cause me to be detained at Heathrow for 15 hours in "customs detention" only to find out that I couldn't set foot on your soil because I was being denied entrance… my first trip out of the country, my first time trying to use my passport, and you didn't like my nebulous cycling plans or my apparently insufficient funds, or that I didn't have a home to go back to and also that I had no return ticket… please re-read about touring cyclists.  15 hours in detention also meant that I spent an entire night in detention.  I was brought a pillow and a blanket, but I told them I would not be sleeping.  No.  Even as 30 hours without sleep caused me to begin to hallucinate (undulating floor tiles and furniture that seemed to float about 1/2" off the ground), I still refused to sleep.  I did lay my head down in exhaustion from crying, but I did not sleep.  How could I sleep when I was in your country for such few precious hours?  No, I composed this love letter to you as well as doing some other writing, because pen and paper were about all I was allowed.  Except for the clothes I was wearing, I had no personal belongings for those 15 hours.

My one souvenir - from detention.  Crisps.
Well, they were crispy.

I arrived in your country on 2 October and was back in Los Angeles on 3 October.  Slingshot.  Exhausted.  In the same clothes for 48+ hours.  Slept much of the way back.

I had seen a little of your green earth and paddocks as the plane took off from Heathrow, but it was a little overcast, and soon the beauty of your land was shielded with clouds.  No, I was not even to really see it at all.

My Scottish sponsor was gutted, but no one more than me.  I think I sobbed in grief for all the lovely plans that I had that were dashed.  I sobbed for the Palace to Palace ride, for the Hertford Theatre event,  for the Warm Showers host, for the money and support that others have invested in my dreams and life.  I wept for the missed roads in Scotland for the John O'Groats to Lands End bike ride, for the time spent with my sponsor, for the time spent in Paris with friends, for the time in Greece and all the adventures in-between.  

Had I known that a longer stay in Britain would have been better received with a "tourist visa" and not just the passport alone, rest assured I would have had one.  Good for future reference.  However, the issue of the return ticket date, well - thus are the vagaries of the touring cyclist.  Because you're not the only country I'm cycling.  You're just my favorite.  I'll come and go.  I have a USA friend who is on an 8-yr tour  and is currently in New Zealand.  He does not have a specific return date but neither does he have a particular passion for any one country like I do.  

I don't have a desire to set down permanent roots in Britain unless it were some little Beatrice Potter type of cottage that I could just use as a bolt hole and write.  Oh yes, I write as well as cycle.  Even in customs detention where I wasn't allowed anything personal but for the clothes on my back, I asked for paper and pen to write.  At first I was so grieved that words failed me, even though I wrote all the eleven hours over on the British Airways flight.  

Oh, and before I forget this lovely thing, when British Airways learned it was my first international flight, they upgraded me.  How lovely was that?

Britain, what I am trying to tell you is that there is likely no one outside your shores who loves you and appreciates you more than I do.  I pose no security risk, I have complete hosting on your lands.  No, I can't give you an itinerary of every day I'm spending there or where my cycling will take me there.  I just want to see it all.  

I asked Jackie, one of the customs detention workers, if this incident was a big black mark on any attempt to return.  She said it was a "little" mark - because now my passport will always be flagged in your country but that if I get a tourist visa, I shouldn't get hassled.  Fingerprinting, pictures, pat downs, and 15 hours in detention before being put on a flight back home, well, I was completely gutted and shattered.  My dreams shattered completely.  Jackie was lovely to me, by the way (but I was understandably appalled when she liked CSI better than SHERLOCK).  Actually, everyone was lovely.  They knew I wasn't a criminal.  Just didn't have the right paperwork and details.

So, the one who loves you the most has been sent away.  Unrequited love.  The story of my life.  But I still love you.  And I will return, and hopefully you will treat me with renewed kindness and allow me to step foot on your beloved soil.

All my best blessings,

Jenny Arata