4 November 2014
The start to my Tuesday adventure was cold and earlier than I’d have liked on my day off because it relied heavily on public transport. Still, the sky was blue. A march up the Big Hill with puffs of breath hanging white in the air warmed me up and took me to bus stop number one. The bus was on time and I found myself in Woolston with a twenty five minute wait for the next bus. The cold was making my head ache and my walking boots felt unfamiliar on my feet after months of wearing Skechers but I had the feeling I was going to need something waterproof and sturdy. Continue reading Two buses, a little pink ferry and a pair of soggy feet
