From bad to brec-kuuuurk!

We arrived in Bridgnorth by some miracle, and found our digs. It was a pub, which had just closed for the day, so we called the landlord. He told us to take our bikes up the path along the side of the pub to the back garden where we could leave them overnight. I went first, Jai followed. The path was cluttered with exactly the kind of junk you'd imagine - broken chairs, barrels, a ladder, old signs. It was like picking your way through an obstacle course. I got to a gate & saw some chickens. There was another gate at the end of their coop, and beyond that an entrance to the garden.

I opened the first gate and discovered to my horror that there were ducks in the coop too. I am petrified of most water birds, following an unfortunate incident in my childhood in which I was chased & attacked by some of the fuckers. I have no idea whether it was ducks or geese, and I don't really care. As far as I'm concerned, if you can swim, fly and walk, you are an abomination, an angry, viscous, arrogant enemy, and can't be trusted. 

'Oh God', I said. 

'You just have to do it', commanded Jaime. 

'Oh fuck.'

We were tired. We needed to be done. This was my final challenge for the day. 

Using my bike as a kind of protective shield, I headed in. Interesting choice, since those bastards can fly, but it was really all I had. I told the waterfowl in no uncertain terms to back off. They were squabbling amongst themselves, presumably over who got which bits of me, and I got to the other end unharmed. The gate was locked. 

'I'm climbing over', I said, desperate to get out, willing to abandon my trusty stead to the enemy without hesitation.

Jai reversed, seemingly over a big white chicken who was totally losing it (what she was afraid of I'll never know - we were just two loud people in fluorescent vests with flashing lights everywhere, traipsing through her house. Relax lady, sheesh!). 

I couldn't climb the gate. I was shaking like a leaf. My mouth was dry. The duckgeese were finalising their plans & sure to head my way any second. 

Alerted by the commotion no doubt, a woman appeared on the other side of the garden, stunned to find some chicken rustler in with her hens. 'What're you doing?', she asked. 'You need to get out of there.'

I wasn't going to argue, but I didn't want to go back past the duckgeese. 'I'll come & meet you round the front', she said. Why, for the love of God, if that was possible all along, had we not started with that?? Why send people up your deathpath past monsters if you don't have to?? What kind of hellish initiation ritual is that? 

By the time we got in to our tiny, tiny room, I was in bits. Exhausted. Starving and not at all hungry at the same time. It didn't seem at all strange, then, when I found myself taking my helmet in the shower to wash the chin strap. I'm not even joking. 

Bridgnorth, you were pretty, but you really, really tested me.