Chapter 28
Back home
The BEST last mail: Ever!
No picture gallery for this chapter, I'm afraid.

The BEST last mail: Ever!


Arrived at London's Heathrow Airport last night: The weather: rain, rain, fog.... AND nobody to meet me (AHH), nobody at home (AHHHHHHHH).... went for a pint down the pub - on my own (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH) - in the rain (I AM SO SAD, CHRISSIE, MY HEART BLEEDS FOR YOU, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)...

As Bob Dylan, helped by Peter Jacob and Michael O'Sullivan sang to/at me last Friday night in Milano's on Houston St. in Manhattan, NY... 'Chris Bright, how does it feel?' Anyway, before you run out the house and jump in front of a bus, I better stop this b****cks :-)

So, there we are. 2 and a half years, a few borders, 65000 miles on 2 bikes, 1800 U.S. gallons of fuel, 5 front tyres, 11 back tyres, 5 shock absorbers, hit/kicked 6 dogs (killed 1), 1 sheep (killed it: that was the big African crash), 1 chicken (stunned), a half eaten cheese sandwich, 2 big bangs (in both of which I was very very luck), lots of grey hair, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh so many broken hearts (yeh right, my a*se), many new friends made, more fun than I could have imagined, a life lived... and now it's all over....


Chris Bright, how does it feel? For the answer you'll have to buy me a beer. Don't you feel sorry for me? I wouldn't for you, if roles were reversed.

The future is unclear: In the very short term: 'Enlighten young minds (Oh Great Teacher, teach us all you know) and then... I have a few cleverly crafted cunning stunts to conjured up.


If you're helped me on my trip: Thanks!
If you've written to me: Thanks!
If you've met me: Hope you enjoyed my company!
If you've enjoyed reading my emails: Great!

Chris Bright and Norman, how does it feel?
PS. For full lyrics of Bob Dylan's song referred to above, visit here.

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