31/365: That 'home' feeling

I'm not a spiritual person but every time I visit Lithuania I get the sense my beloved Senelė is looking down on me from wherever she's watching. I come to her flat here in Baisogala, Lithuania, to in a sense be closer to her. Not a lot has changed in here in the past few decades and that's the way I like it.

The smell as I walk through the door, the faded wallpaper, and the painted windows on the doors to each room all bring with them a certain nostalgia which cannot be recreated with any sort of re-modelling that will eventually take place here. As the space here will change slowly as the years come and go (the bathroom has already been completely re-tiled and installed with a modern shower), so will the essence of the flat slowly change. To visit here now, as it is, is the closest it will ever be to how I remember. 

It's why, the last few times I've been here either with Layla or my friend Fred, to come back and visit more often. Once a year simply is not enough for me. When I am here my mind feels clear. Maybe it's the fresh air or the feeling of being far away from the 24/7 global news cycle or work, I don't know but what I do know is I feel better for being here. That's why in 2026 I will be here at least three times - this visit, in June/July for Layla's birthday, and again in September for when I partake in the Vilnius Half Marathon again. 

When Layla finishes her job as well, it maybe even easier to squeeze in a couple of 2/3 day getaways during my rest days too. Flights to and from Kaunas to London are cheap, the accommodation is free, and the hire car company I use is reliable and well-priced. It is now easier to get here than ever before. If I hadn't have stopped on the way from the airport to Baisogala, I would have been here in approximately 11 hours (from my flat in Sittingbourne to the flat in Baisogala including drive to airport, security, flight, everything). That's pretty damn good. 

The end of January is but a few hours away and in a few weeks no doubt the blanket of snow that covers Lithuania will be gone, or atleast it will begin melting into the black horrible slush that inevitably comes with spring. This sort of weather takes place less and less frequently here due to the joys of global warming and who knows when I will see it again like this. Here's to hoping that February ends just as well as January has. 

30/365: Day 1 Back In Lithuania

According to my Garmin, I got 51 minutes of sleep last night such was my excitement of coming to Lithuania. Either the excitement or the fact I had to be up at 1.15am to get to the airport at 3.45am!

Ryanair once again delivered the goods. It wasn’t pretty with the usual routine of standing in empty hallways converted into supposed “airport gates.” But we took off 7 minutes after the scheduled departure time and landed in Kaunas 35 minutes earlier than the scheduled arrival time. For the meagre price of £31.99, I for one am certainly not complaining. 

Packing my own lunch for the flight was also a game changer, my only purchases being a coffee and a bottle of water. The water, with better planning, could have been avoided however. 

Blue skies shone over Lithuania today, making the drive from Kaunas to Baisogala all the more beautiful. The white sheet of snow which blankets the country glistened all the more brightly. I couldn’t have asked for better weather to start the trip. 

It’s 5.24pm (3.24pm in the UK) and I can barely keep my eyes open. It’s time to sleep.

29/365: A Few Hours To Go

Bags are packed, ready for the journey. I don't know whether it's a blessing or a curse to be on one of the first flights out in the morning. On the one hand, it means I can get to Lithuania at the earliest possible opportunity. On the other, it means I have to leave my flat at 1.30am to get there for 3.30am for my flight at 5.45am! 

Nevertheless, it will all be worth it in a few hours and I look forward to being in the village of Baisogala tomorrow. I'm sure I will have forgotten something minor - but everything I need is packed from the flat keys to my copy of War and Peace which I will attempt to get through as much as possible while away! 

For now, it is time to rest before the flight. Until tomorrow. 

28/365: Returning Home

Like a child before Christmas, I am filled with chocola... no, excitement! 

Tomorrow night, I return home. And no, not in the sense of where I live or where my post goes to... but my spiritual home. 

That is, of course, to those who know me well - Lithuania. The country I was born in, where my Mother is from, and for me the one place in the world I love more than anywhere. 

I will be staying in the most nostalgic of places - my grandmother's old flat, which we have kept even since she passed as a holiday home, in the loosest sense of the word. For it is not in a holiday destination, oh no, far from it. It is in the small village of Baisogala, flat bang in the middle of Lithuania. You quite simply do not get more rural, more village, and more Lithuanian than Baisogala. It is so far removed from anywhere a tourist might visit that its name loosely translates to "the worst place." 

Yet, to me, it is quite simply... home. 

From the smell of the decades old wooden floors and dust-filled knitted blankets and duvet covers, to the centuries old photos of my great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents. It's a place where there is little to do, yet I always find I've never spent enough time there when I leave. 

Even in the darkest depths of winter, where temperatures will reach -25 degrees Celsius during my stay, I love it like no other place on earth. 

It's home. 

27/365: Nearly Forgot!

Of all the days, on a day off of all days was when I nearly forgot to continue with another blog post. Now, it's not the end of the world if I miss a day or two in this "challenge", my primary aim is more getting into the habit of writing so that I can continually improve. That being said, I'm not about to miss a day simply for the reason of "I forgot!" 

If I do miss a day on this challenge there must be some serious excuse - be it I had no internet due to being on a flight or I simply did not have five minutes to pull my phone out and write something. So, much to the annoyance of my readers, I will continue on. 

On reflection, I do genuinely think this challenge has helped me improve my writing exponentially. I have learnt to describe anything and everything and come up with all sorts of metaphors and adjectives. No longer must I use the excuse of "writer's block" as I have found a way to talk about a variety of subjects with, much to my surprise, ease. Be it coffee or running, night shifts or Donald Trump - the challenge has broadened my horizons beyond my usual and comfortable niche that is my favourite - travel. 

This blog lives to the 28th day after all. See you tomorrow. 

26/365: Experimentation

Panic set in with every degree the water boiling my vegan tortellini increased. The packaging exclaimed "ready in 3-4 minutes!" but there was nothing to be excited about. I had no complimenting sauce and the thought of vegan tortellini on its own seemed so... so UnItalian.

I opened my fridge in haste to see how I could rectify the impending doom of unseasoned, unflavoured tortellini. All that's in the fridge is a ready made spanish omelette, some lactose-free milk, and a jar of tomato and chilli chutney. In the pantry lies a jar of strawberry jam, hardly useful in a situation as dire as this. 

I light up another hob - in go four teaspoons of the chutney. I've seemingly put the heat on slightly too high as the chutney instantly sizzles, aromatically overloading my olfactory system with the smell of... well, tomato and chilli. 

Memories of working on "the line" at well known American burger chain flare up in my brain and in a moment of brief clarity I feel the urge to grab some lacto-free milk and add it to the sizzling chutney. A quick stir and it begins to resemble more of a sauce now. Reduce. 

There's cheese in the back recesses of the fridge. I grab it, inspired. It brings the sauce from runny to thick near enough instantly. Reduce. I add garlic powder, chilli flakes, salt, and pepper. 

In this moment I am a chef. 

25/365: Potholes

I brace for impact. I didn't spot the pothole in front of me in time. The thud of my car as it bobbles it makes its way through this crater, the likes of which NASA astronauts on the moon would study if this had been found on the moon.

What wouldn't be found on the moon however, would be the constant set of temporary traffic lights which make their home on my way route to and from work everyday. It must be a universal rule in modern day Britain that no matter how hard one tries, one will come across temporary traffic lights or restrictions on whatever route one takes. 

Despite the constant roadworks, my car still bares the brunt of roads that even residents in the Donbas would quiver at after four years of war. My Nissan Micra perseveres in the face of such adversity. 

With the amount of tax we, as drivers, pay through vehicle tax, fuel duty, and council tax to name a few, it is us, the drivers, who have to prove our vehicle is roadworthy. Yet I've never seen a local authority have to prove to us taxpayers that a road is carworthy?

24/365: Lugubrious

Today, while reading War and Peace by none other than Leo Tolstoy, I came across the word "lugubrious" which has now become my favourite word. It means, to quote the Google Search definition, "looking or sounding sad and dismal."

It has its roots in Latin and its use makes perfect sense in the context of the Napoleonic Wars during the early 1800s, when War and Peace is set. Throughout the story, there are a number of words that I come across which make no sense to me, although I can somewhat gather what they mean based on the context. 

It is clear I must make more of an effort to take the time to find out what each means specifically, for I know they will make me a better writer. Being able to write and describe something in one word, which sums it up perfectly, is better than using three or four which could have been said by anyone.

That doesn't necessarily mean, however, that the reader or listener will understand what you meant. In which case I will look at them lugubriously. 

23/365: Writer's Block

It finally happened. Twenty-three days into the project I have finally hit writer's block. Be it due to tiredness or something else, I cannot think of a single thing I observed or experienced that evokes something worth writing about. Work was uneventful as was the drive to and from work. 

My mind is blank but the streak continues.

22/365: Sub-par coffee and mediocre pastries

The disappointment of an underwhelming croissant is universal. And paying nearly £4 for the displeasure felt like a punch to the gut. The coffee... well it was mediocre too. 

I guess I expected more when I drove 20 minutes to the next town over for my post-run coffee and pastry. Then again, maybe I am spoilt from being a regular at the best coffee spot in Kent, which I have previously written about. 

Despite this, I was happy in general to be not working. My TOIL request being approved yesterday meant today would never have happened if I had not taken the chance and put a request in in the first place. So we take the good with the bad, and a good day is always one in which I'm not working (but being paid for). 

Back to work tomorrow, where I'll dream of a mediocre coffee and a sub-par pastry. 

21/365: Radio Static

The rain and wind against the window sounds like radio static. I couldn't sleep but I had to be awake in five hours. I was tempted to post this blog as the earliest of the year, at least in terms of time of day. But, I think wisely, decide against. The 48-hour turnaround from night to day shift is brutal. Even 24 hours post-night shift I struggle to wake at 9am and feel extremely drowsy. 

Nevertheless I do manage to wake myself from a deep slumber (this is my new favourite word) at 5.15am. The drive is uneventful, but minute by minute the days get longer. It's nearly been a month since the shortest day of the year and slowly but shortly the days get longer. The light at the end of a long winter is still far off in the distance, but it is visible now. 

I don't even mind the cold or the wind or the rain, it's the short days which I hate. Arriving at work in the dark and leaving it in the dark is insufferable. The cold, however, is tolerable. 

I look forward to an ever so slightly longer day tomorrow. 

20/365: The Perfect Steamed Milk

It was late afternoon and I had got myself in a huff after doing some chores. My mind was scattered and I needed an outlet. Without hesitation I realised I had not had a decent coffee today and, like many things, a decent coffee is the answer to anything. 

My Breville coffee machine lit up at the switch of a button. I got the scales out, weighed the coffee grounds - 19g exactly. When the machine was heated up and ready, I extracted the espresso shot - 41mls in 25 seconds... slightly more than the 38mls that would have been ideal but we move on. 

Next up, perhaps the hardest part of making a good coffee - the steaming of the milk. Adding the air, then incorporating it is an art form in itself. Too much air and your coffee becomes a frothing mess, not enough and you may as well have just added heated milk from a microwave. But today, after some eight or nine months of owning the coffee machine I somehow got it right. The temperature was spot on. The milk had a silk-like texture with a shiny glaze to indicate that it had indeed been perfectly steamed. 

I pour into the shot of espresso and I begin my coffee art. I create the shape of a heart... or is it an onion? Either way, I am quite impressed with myself. You can't create the art without the perfectly steamed milk. Maybe now I am finally graduating into the skill of latte art instead of just milk steaming. I'll find out when I make my coffee tomorrow. 

19/365: The Pigeons That Watch

Stumbling back into my apartment block just before 7am, half delirious from a 12 hour nightshift, I look up and see a bloated pigeon staring back at me. The curious little thing seems as delirious as me, it makes a cooing noise. I grunt and make my way back towards my flat. 

There are some conspiracy theories that pigeons aren't even birds at all, just government-controlled robots sent to spy on us. Of course, I dabble in no such ideas but it does make me wonder what the pigeons think as I wake them from their slumber, delirious and sleep deprived after the night shift. 

Is he a drunkard? A drug addict? Wait, I think I must release my bowels on his head.

Thankfully, this hasn't happened yet, but I feel it is inevitable given the little perch above the entrance that they call home. 

18/365: Tacos

As Trump threatens allies with tariffs in some sort of attempt to force European hands into the annexation of Greenland, I can't help but wonder just how strange the times we live in truly are. His popularity is down, his international reputation is down, and it seems even in small circles within his own party and abroad, he is colloquially known as "TACO" - Trump Always Chickens Out. 

I do wonder whether he is aware of any of this, or if he and the people that surround him are so far deep into their bubble of groupthink that they do not realise just how wrong not only are they factually, but just how unpopular they are. I guess they only care about MAGA and their base and as long as they have that, that's all they care about, but even that seems to be slowly dimishing based on the Presidential Approval Ratings. 

Even watching Karoline Leavitt during press briefings is totally cringe-worthy. She is younger than me and, seemingly, probably less qualified than me. Her qualification for the roll being she wrote for her university's student newspaper and lost in a US congressional race a few years ago, but because she was pro-Trump, she earned herself a roll in the Trump Administration taking questions from the world's media, and her (lack of) experience really shows. If there's a question she can't answer - she diverts to personally abusing the journalist, labelling them a "left-wing" hack and questions how they got press credentials in the first place. This, in the United States, which for centuries has been based on the idea that they were founded on a free press and free speech. The White House now, however, is becoming a place of free press, but only if you agree with Trump. 

With a trip to the US in a couple of months time, it does make me wonder about my own safety. I've travelled to some places with serious limitations on free speech and press before (including Syria under Assad) and I feel more nervous now about going to the US than I did before Syria. I write this blog post under the freedom knowing that if they are to check my digital history, I've probably "liked" and "forwarded" so many anti-Trump posts on Instagram to get me detained by a border officer or ICE agent anyway. 

Let's just hope I don't get shot in the face. 

17/365: The Streak Continues

I'm still in my work uniform. The joys of a 12-hour shift mean that by the time I get home and have dinner it is nearly 8pm. As I sit and write this now - it is 8.36pm. I'm trying to think of a topic, anything to keep the daily blogging streak going but I can feel the tiredness in my mind. 

The muscles in my forehead above my eyes are willing themselves to close. But I must write, atleast a little bit. I am committed to this daily blogging thing. I'm not sure why. But I enjoy it and, I think, it has improved my writing in the seventeen days I've done it. There will be days like this. 

I wanted to write about how I researched the Pulitzer Prize and how one day I would like to win one. Then I thought, "that's a bit materialistic and narcissistic of me." There are many a great writer who never won one, it doesn't make you a bad writer not to have written one. That's a topic for another day I think. I don't have the brain power to analyse the morality of literary prizes right now. 

Yet this streak continues and I'm one day closer to writing something worth reading. 

16/365: The War On My Retinas

LED headlights are the first thing that need to go in the bin this year. Surely it can't be safe for the majority of road users to have their retinas burnt to within a micrometre of all out blindness when simply checking their rear view mirror.

Then again, more and more cars seem to be having them and drivers of the infamous cars with LED headlights laugh at us mere peasants with our yellow low beam headlights. How much of the road do you really need to see? Before we know it some cars may start to add a floodlight that, at the press of a button, can rise up out of the roof of the car and begin illuminating entire neighbourhoods. Councils sure would save a lot of money on electricity as it would make street lighting redundant.... wait, I better not give them any ideas. 

I was glad when I heard the government would be conducting a review into LED lights in cars, but like with most things governmental, I imagine the priority is quite low (until a mega party donor ends up in an LED light related tragedy) and will inevitably get bogged down under piles and piles of petty bureaucracy. 

Maybe by the time I hit retirement age I will live to experience a world without LED-headlighted cars... if I'm not blinded by them in the meantime...

15/365: Coffees With Layla

Coffees with my girlfriend, Layla, are one of life's simple joys for me. Within the chaos of day to day life, finding time to go out, grab a coffee and a sweet treat, and catching up on our day can be the highlight of my week. 

Our working patterns don't always make this possible, which is why I value these times all the more. Even today, when it is cold, wet, and windy - I met up with her after work and sat in a local supermarket Costa being truly appreciative of what these moments mean to me. They are not glamorous little dates, but they are the ones that keep things ticking over. 

Once every few weeks, when days off align, we make time to visit Sabaho's (see Day 11!) or go to the local Sentado Lounge for a cozy few hours of reading, eating, and sipping a coffee. We don't need to talk constantly or fill the silence, we just need to be present with eachother, taking in the world around us with no pressure or expectation to do anything more. 

In the fast-paced chaos of the modern world, slowing down to enjoy the simple things with a loved one over as simple thing as coffee or tea can turn a bad week into a good one an average day into the best day. 

14/365: Lottery Dreaming

Yesterday I had a random thought about the time I worked in a restaurant and overheard a customer telling a friend of his that his parents won the 'Set For Life' lottery and I remember being half-impressed, but also half jealous. How selfish of me! I was slaving away in the summer heat, pouring drinks, running food, all for the meagre sum of minimum wage and the odd tip. Why couldn't it be me? They would probably waste it all away. Set for life too, you can't even waste it away - you just get paid again the next month!

Despite these selfish thoughts, I carried on working away, only dreaming of ever seeing such a sum in my savings, let alone seeing a number that large drop into my bank account month after month. Nevertheless, I acted on my random thought of the day and decided to buy two lines on the 'Set For Life' lottery, with the chance to win £10,000 per month for 30 years. Got to be in it to win it, right? 

Alas, as you do when you buy a ticket in the lottery - you dream of everything you'd do with the money. I think about how I could save it and pretty much move to Lithuania straight away. I'd put some into some long-term investment accounts because naturally for me, the money would run out when I'm 59 (assuming I won) so although I'd be set until then, if I wasn't careful I wouldn't quite be "set for life." 

I do sometimes wonder if my luck has ran out though. Back in my university days I remember playing online poker where I won a hand worth something like £0.30 on cash Texas Hold'em with a Royal Flush. I did this twice in the space of weeks and, upon googling the odds of getting a Royal Flush, I've since realised I have most definitely used up a lifetime worth of luck. To get one, you need odds of 1/649,739... to get this twice in the space of weeks... well who knows?!

So I'm waiting for tomorrow evening, when the numbers get pulled and no doubt I will be filled with the same disappointment that 99.99% of lottery players get when they don't win big and I'll move on and hopefully be less inclined to act on instantaneous thoughts in future.  

13/365: Freedom Isn't Free

As a Lithuanian, it is important for me to remember my country's history. January 13th is a date in which we, as Lithuanian people, remember that "freedom isn't free." We thank those who put their lives in danger to defend those freedoms and we reflect on and remember those who paid the ultimate sacrifice. 

On the 11th of March 1990, Lithuania declared independence from the Soviet Union but the months that followed saw difficult economic times in a country that was not yet widely recognised. Due to increased unrest in some Lithuanian minority groups and increased disorder in the country (to put it very simply), Gorbachev ordered the immediate restoration of the Constitution of the Soviet Union, and refused to rule out military force to make that happen. 

As Soviet Special Forces and troops began preparations and flew into Lithuania, Lithuanian civilians began preparations of their own to defend key civilian sites. These included the Press House, the Parliament (where my Mother chose to be), and the TV Tower (where one of my Uncles chose to be). Other parts of the Lithuanian side of my family were at different locations, defending different sites, but I can't be sure where. 

Lithuanians, in the freezing winter cold, remained at these locations for days awaiting Soviet Troops. In some cases, they never came. But in others, they did. At the Press House, Soviet Troops fired live ammunition at unarmed civilians. When news of this circulated, my Mother and her friends feared for their lives at the Parliament building. It seemed obvious that this was where they might come for next. Fortunately, that never happened. 

At the TV Tower 14 Lithuanian Heroes are shot and/or crushed by tanks in a vile attempt at repressing the will of the Lithuanian people. Two of the victims were just 18 years old. 

In February 1991, Iceland was the first nation to recognise Lithuania's independence on the international stage, which began Lithuania's path to international recognition. So, although we remember the thousands of Lithuanians who gave their lives or died before they could see an independent Lithuania again, on January 13th we remember those who died on this specific day a little more. They represent the thousands of others and the will of the Lithuanian people.

I am grateful that because of them, I was born into a free Lithuania and am able to enjoy the world as a free Lithuanian. 

Freedom isn't free and it is something we must work toward and for every single day. 

12/365: A dehumidifier changed my life.

Last night I purchased a dehumidifier, today I picked it up, and I'm already obsessed with it. 

It's so fascinating seeing the effect it is already having on our flat. After leaving it on in our room for a bit, our usually steamy windows were dry and clear, the air felt more breathable (it probably helps it doubles up as an air purifier too), and there is already a sizeable amount of moisture building up inside!

How cool is that?! When you see the small puddle of water in the machine, it is hard to picture that that is all around us all the time... in the walls, in the air, everywhere. It should hopefully make it a lot easier to dry our clothes indoors but will become more important when the rope caulk (like a lengthy blue tack substance) comes in a few days so we can self-insulate our dodgy draughty windows. 

The increased weather temperature in the last few days is a welcome change from the freezing cold we've had to deal with recently and you really feel it too when in a listed building like ours with single-glazing. More importantly, it should help our wallets too because, I'm sure I speak for many, the price of energy is very noticeable this time of year. 

I wonder if the King checks his Smartmeter and gawks at the bill of Buckingham Palace?

11/365: The Best Coffee in Kent (maybe the world?)

On the pavement outside at Chatham's Dockside Outlet lies a small, brown, horse trailer. It is inconspicuous and humble in its lack of advertising. As you get closer, a sign greets you with the words "Sabaho means 'Good Morning' in Lebanese". Inside is Kareem - coffee connoisseur, chess enthusiast, and now, after nearly a year of knowing him, a friend indeed as well. 

This coffee beats its rivals in the background anyday!

Good coffee is hard to come by. Good coffee made by good, hardworking, local people in a small business is even harder to come by. So when I came across his trailer early last year after going to the local gym, I was drawn in. Having visited Lebanon a few years prior, I approached him intrigued. His face lit up with a warm, genuine hospitality, one unique to Lebanese people (and in my experience the wider Arab region) and talked with me about his life, his experiences, and how he ended up here in Medway of all places! 

Kareem, serving up the goods!

And the coffee - oh my god the coffee! Without a doubt, some of the best you can get in Medway, perhaps even Kent. It is silky smooth, made perfectly every time. His Lebanese-inspired sweet treats are to die for as well, made by his (English) mother in law! The halawa (sesame seed paste/oil) brownie is a personal favourite. It's a subtle taste but one that enhances the flavour of the brownie so well. 

In the summer we sit and play chess outside his trailer, him trotting back inside whenever a customer stops by to have a look, ready to change their lives with a divine coffee made with careful love and precision every time. 

The best drink in my opinion - the humble cortado!

Kareem starts the day at 5am, nigh on every day - be it summer or winter, rain or snow, sunshine or hail (the only thing he can't open in is wind!). His work ethic is impeccable, and for a man who puts in 12-14 hour days everyday, his energy and smile through all this is a light in Layla and mine's world, when it's been a tough day or week, we know that Sabaho's has got our back. And we know we are not the only ones who feel this way.

Kareem understands that a coffee that warms the body is one thing, but a coffee that warms the soul - well, that's something else altogether :)

10/365: The Joy In Decluttering

Since the New Year, Layla and I have been decluttering our flat. We've arranged for various bits to be donated to charity but we've also spent a lot of time listing various things on Vinted (a platform for selling pretty much anything and everything). I've managed to get rid of quite a few books that have been sat on my shelf for a long time, simply taking up space and not really bringing any value to my life.

Layla, on the other hand, has been a lot more successful than me, making over £150 in the process of decluttering her stuff - meanwhile I'm stuck on a meagre £9.50 so far. Yet, the money is merely an added bonus to this all. The joy comes from the act of getting rid of it in itself. With every shopping bag full of stuff that we sell and donate is more room to breathe and not be overwhelmed in our little flat. Everytime we get rid of stuff, we create more room for ourselves. And we've definitely noticed the difference so far. 

In Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club, the character Tyler Durden says "The things we own end up owning us. It's only after you lose everything that you are free to do anything." And while the quote in the book's context is perhaps slightly different, I feel on a philosophical level, it definitely connects and is something I have tried to live my life by. A clutter domicile leads to a cluttered mind. More things weigh us down, they make it harder to do anything. Anyone who's ever moved house will agree with that - moving boxes upon boxes of things truly makes you reconsider how much stuff you have. 

As the space opens up around me, I've noticed my mind becoming clearer. I'm less irritable than I perhaps once was. 

Now let me go find something else I can sell.

9/365: The beauty of not knowing

Just thirty seconds ago I had the thought that I must do my blog for the day. 

"I'm not sure what I am going to write about," I thought. "But there is a kind of unique beauty in the fact that shortly I will have written something, which thirty seconds ago did not exist and I had no idea I would write about it."

And voila, here we are. So I guess today's post is about the beauty of not knowing what I will write about and perhaps even the beauty of not being certain of anything at all. To me, it just shows that ideas can become realities very quickly if we just put our minds to it. The simple act of writing puts my words onto this blog in the space of minutes. An insight into my mind at this particular moment on this particular day, forever etched in history. 

If anything, it proves to myself that I can do it. For so long the plague of "writers block" has torn me apart when I've sat down to write about my own experiences. This blog is about overcoming that. It's about forcing myself to write about the mundane realities of day to day life, as well as the interesting. My writings in years prior have been based on some of the best and unique moments of my life - my book An Albanian Adventure was about an incredible six-week trip to the country. It was a new 

And now, regardless of how many countries I travel to or places I see, the experiences are unique, but they are not always new, if that makes sense. And now I must learn that doing unique things must not be the basis for my writing, but writing well about the experiences I have, as mundane as some might be. 

Anthony Bourdain might be the best example of this. Any tourist could write about sitting on a plastic stool in Vietnam while eating a delicious meal, but only Bourdain could bring out the feeling that brings through his writing. Only Bourdain could make you smell that smell, taste that taste, and make you feel human again when reading it. 

8/365: The War On Sleep

In the deep, cold, midwinter, there is no deeper sleep than can be had when coming off a night shift. The embrace of the warm bed engulfs me at 7am and before I know it I'm out like a light. 

I have read that the switch between night shifts and day shifts (what I currently do) seriously disrupts our hormonal balances, circadian rhythm, and even increases risks of terminal conditions such as cancer and our overall life expectancy. Night shifts take a serious toll on the body and it is perhaps no wonder the sleeps I have after them are deeper than anything else I've ever experienced. 

It's strange because I remember back in the days of when I used to drink back in university, coming back home at 4 or 5am after having been awake for 32 hours... even then my sleeps were never as deep as they are following a night shift. 

They do take "it" out of me though. No matter how much I sleep after a nightshift I feel the draining energy of tiredness in my bones in perpetuity. My rest days are spent trying to recover for the next shift in a few days time. I try my best, but the war on sleep feels never ending. 

Like Bush in Iraq, I am searching for weapons of sleep destruction but all I've found is a tired, dishevelled man in a deep hole. 

7/365: Cold winter running

Going for an easy run on a sunny, ice cold day is one of life's great pleasures. As the breeze hits your face you feel an overwhelming sense of freedom. I find it is a great way to start the day, when motivation is ripe at least. 

The pull of a nice warm bed can be overwhelming on some days. As you go through the steps to get ready for your run - you are faced with dozens of hurdles telling you, "it's fine, after you put that sock on come back to bed, you don't need to run." Then as you commit by walking out the door and stepping out into the cold there are a million voices telling you to turn back. 

Then as you run, the voices in your head begin to tell you "it's ok, 1/2/3/4km is far enough" even though your goal was 6km (at least that's what it was for me today). And it is easy to succumb to those thoughts. But the feeling of bliss as you push through those thoughts and all of a sudden your mind becomes clear. The run becomes easy, your legs flow underneath you without the heaviness of the first few hundred metres. The breathing and heart rate stays steady. You enter what some might call "the flow state". 

That's what I run for. 

6/365: It could be worse

The automobile is no doubt one of the greatest inventions in modern history. It has opened the doors for hundreds of people around the world - jobs that you'd never be able to reach on foot  are now accessible, places you've always wanted to go to but public transport is non-existent, or even just the simple pleasure of going for a drive to clear the mind - the automobile opens up the world like nothing else.

But by golly is it expensive. 

I swear you go through the five stages of grief every time your car makes a noise it never did before or a shudder you've never felt:

1. Denial - "Hmm, that's not my car.. definitely the lorry behind me. Wait, that noise is still there and I'm still hearing it? Can't be that bad if I can't hear it when I turn the music up, right?"
2. Anger - "Oh bugger! This is going to cost me a fortune! Why do I even bother with this bloody car?! Useless thing!"
3. Bargaining - "I'll start catching the train more just so I can keep the mileage low on this car. I really need it to last me as long as possible."
4. Depression - "Trains are more expensive than driving. Why do I even bother? I'll just force myself into financial ruin."
5. Acceptance - "It's ok, I will just go and get it sorted. It'll cost more if I don't sort it out later."

Once you've reached that fifth stage, you're likely £500 out of pocket with some faint ideas of "this time I'll drive more carefully" or "I'll take care of the car more now" but it never eventuates. 

Is this universal or is it just me... today.. after finding out my brakes needed a full repair and near enough a new exhaust to boot. Although I put away a couple of hundred pounds every month for this exact type of situation, it never hurts any less when I have to dispose of the money I've put away for it. I suppose it doesn't help I spent £400 on new tyres less than a month ago too. When it rains, it pours, eh? 

Glad the New Year is going well for my wallet. But hey, could be worse, could be Nicolas Maduro right now. 

5/365: Dealing with frustration.

My work is relatively simple, it requires some level of critical thinking and analysis, allows me to work on my own, and has a real-world purpose. My actions can save lives. The downside of my work, however, is that multiple people are trained in the same role as me and there are 11 or 12 of us working at any one time, depending on how well staffed we are (usually not). 

As a result, this means multiple people can jump in and do the work of one another at any one time. We cover each other’s breaks and managers over see our decisions. We are responsible for making things run smoothly. So when others do not communicate with you, or undermine you, or say things have happened when they haven’t - then the work can be extremely taxing, laborious, and draining. 

Today, was one of those days (remember how I talked about worst-case scenarios yesterday?!). In fact, it is fair to say I nearly lost my rag. I felt undermined, which in turn meant I felt the wrath of colleagues further down the supply chain, further adding to the stress I was under. Then I had to constantly deal with both a lack of documentation and incorrect documentation. I had multiple high priority demands coming in at once, further compiled by what I also needed to correct and sort out.

While I have been in the role for nearly two years and do consider myself somewhat qualified to do the job, it is days like today where I realise that I am not perfect at it. I need to learn to have a cooler head under pressure, to vent my frustrations in more sustainable ways. I was working with multiple people new to their roles and it is not their fault they haven’t got that experience yet. I don’t mean this in a condescending way, but it is an admitted fault of mine that I struggle to empathise with newer people despite me having struggled quite a lot when I came into the role. 

Frustration is an emotion I must learn to deal with better for I am not perfect, nobody is (if I have to be so god awfully cliche).

4/365: The Night Before Work

There is always a certain kind of dread that I am filled with on the night before work, which makes this final day off almost bittersweet. I am glad not to be working, but in the back of my mind I know that this time tomorrow I will be. 

I can't really complain too much, after all today is my 9th day off in a row - not annual leave or sickness or anything like that, just rostered rest days. I did have to work Christmas and Boxing Day though, so it's not all sunshine and rainbows with all this time off! 

For me, I always ruminate about a worst case scenario - an incredibly busy day or some complex task or one irritable colleague who makes your life hell - it almost never comes to fruition. 

As I wait for the hours to pass by until that alarm goes off at 4.45am, I relive the happy moments I've had over the past nine days. From my Father's birthday meal to bringing in the New Year by beginning a new reading goal with my girlfriend in bed (we are elderly at heart!) to the far too short roadtrip to Wales to see two of my best mates, it's all gone by way too fast as it always does. 

It makes me miss unemployment, although that too has its own consequences. Like a hamster in a wheel - as my income has increased so have my responsibilities and associated payments and financial responsibilities. This year will be my third at my organisation, longer than any other job I've had. I'm paid more than I ever have been yet I feel like I have less money now than when I stacked shelves at Sainsbury's during Covid. Strange how life works like that. 

Alas, I'll turn up on time - ready for another day at 6.23am, when my shift officially starts and, provided no miracles, for the next forty odd years too. Depressing or motivating? I'm not sure.

3/365: Disaster Strikes - parkrun Cancelled!

Despite the comfortable bed at The Blueberry Hotel in Pontypridd, Wales (see yesterday's blog), I slept poorly. My stomach was a little sensitive, perhaps the copious amounts of cheese on the previous nights ham and pineapple pizza reacted poorly with my lactose intolerance. When I checked the weather app on my phone and saw that it was a brisk -2 degrees in Pontypridd that morning, I would be lying if I said I wasn't too disappointed to see that Pontypridd's parkrun was cancelled due to ice that morning. 

It does however mean I am currently stuck on 24 parkruns and, for anyone else involved in the parkrun community, I'll have to wait until next week to qualify for my 25 runs t-shirt. In my head, it was a nice story in the making. It was at Pontypridd's Ynysangharad War Memorial Park that I made my parkrun debut during my third year of university in September 2017. I finished with, what I thought, a meagre time of 37:18 and went home embarrassed at my lack of fitness and with a severe case of delayed-onset-muscle-soreness, a.k.a. DOMS. So embarrassed I was that I chose not to return to parkrun until February of last year, seven and a half years after my first. Ultimately, it was a failure in mindset and represents a time in my life when I let myself gain a lot of weight, become incredibly unfit (atleast compared to where I was), and as a result it means a bit more to me to come back and "defeat" this parkrun, as it were. 

I found in my second ever parkrun at Medway Great Lines Park that not only was I more unfit but I experienced even worse DOMS! This time, however, I persevered and I was determined to run as many parkruns as possible in 2025 regardless of if I had to walk or even crawl them. All in all, I completed a further 22 parkruns in 2025 where I now regularly finish in 33-35 minutes with a PB of 32:20. Getting my 25th parkrun at Pontypridd would have felt like a good way to come back and face my laziness demons and prove to myself that the course had not defeated me all those years ago. 

One of the positives of parkrun being cancelled was that Fred and I found a fantastic little cafe in Pontypridd Market, called Nick and Izzy's, where we enjoyed a sublime breakfast. After grabbing a couple of Welshcakes (it would be rude not to), we parted ways on another great mini-trip with Fred (and Gav for a bit too). 

While I failed to get my 25th at Ponty parkrun, I refuse to let my first attempt there in 2017 be my last and I promise to return to get it done and close that chapter properly.

2/365: A Trip Down Memory Lane

The second day of the New Year took me back ten years... in the early hours of the morning I roused myself from a deep slumber and made my way out of my flat into the dark winter morning. With reports of a northerly Arctic blast coming to the UK over the weekend, it seemed like the perfect time to embark on a road trip back to the South Wales Valleys where I undertook both my undergraduate and postgraduate studies between the years 2015-2020. The September just gone marked ten years since I started university at the University of South Wales (USW), where I spent my formative years.

As I made my way towards the M20 down Detling Hill from Sittingbourne, snow had fallen in this part of Kent. While I went on a holiday to North Wales a couple of years ago with my parents, this would be my first gaunt to "the Valleys" since evacuating with my parents in March 2020, just days before the first Covid lockdown. A lot had changed since then - I was a young man in my early 20s full of hope and idealism. This year I will turn 30 and I am slightly less hopeful and idealistic than I was. My dreams of becoming a young coaching prodigy in the rugby world were dashed and I quickly learnt that a degree and some volunteer experience doesn't actually get you as far as they claim at university open days. Alas, I probably wouldn't have had the experiences I had or the friends I made or in the position I am today because of it. Everything happens for a reason, as the cliché goes. To quote Heraclitus of Ephesus, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

My arrival into Pontypridd, the old Welsh mining town where I studied at USW coincided perfectly with my best mate Fred's arrival who would be joining me on this trip, driving into the Sardis Road carpark minutes after me. We soon cantered down to the local Wetherspoons, The Tumble Inn, where we had spent many a drunken night out, for traditional breakfast. At 11am, while we enjoyed eggs and bacon, some of the locals were getting shots of vodka in already. Glad to see nothing changes. 

Not long after, we were joined by Gav at Costa Coffee down the road - local to the Welsh valleys but who was also a good friend here during our time at university. It would be my first time seeing Gav since September 2020 when we all met up at Reading services during easing of Covid restrictions, because nothing says superspreader like three people from three different parts of the country driving two hours to a service station for a catchup!

We reminisced, took the piss out of eachother, and discussed friends and coursemates new and old - who had babies, who made something of their lives (unlike us), who was dead, and who was probably in the Epstein files. When some local riff raff decided to make the High Street Costa their next target, we decided it was a good time to move on and went on a walk around the town centre, which had not changed much in the past few years, apart from a building knocked down here or a building built up there. Like most towns in the Welsh valleys in the years since the mining industry collapsed, economic and job opportunities are limited and growth in the area is slow, although improving.

When Gav left for an appointment, Fred and I continued our journey down memory lane. We drove down to the Sports Park where our lectures and practicals were held. Then it was back up to the Treforest Campus where we stayed in Halls in First Year. We were dissapointed to see that the Student Union had renamed the iconic student pub from 'The Randy Dragon' to 'The Coal House'. Randy Dragon was far cooler. It was also clearly shut as it was outside term time to our dismay, as we were both looking forward to a cheap meal. 

Ten years ago, it all seemed so much newer and cooler and exciting. The buildings now looked drab, dilapidated, and weathered. It all needed a good power wash and new paint. Maybe I was looking back on the past with rose-tinted glasses. 

After checking into our hotel, The Blueberry, in Pontypridd town centre, we made our way to Cardiff for one of our favourite activities during university - casino and a Five Guys burger. Back in the day, we would take out £20 and try to win a few quid on Blackjack to pay for our Five Guys and the train home. With our newfound age was more money to lose and certainly no more wisdom with both of us walking out down on our money and our tails between our legs. The House always wins. 

High rollers

On return to the hotel in Pontypridd, we decided we couldn't end the night there. So quickly turned back out and headed to one final stop, the (in)famous Uni Takeaway. It was (and still is) notorious for being not only extremely budget friendly but also decent in quality, especially when absolutely blotto from a night out in Pontypridd! We were skeptical on what it would be like sober. The quality was pleasantly surprising - Fred's cheesy garlic bread was loaded with cheese and my 7 inch hawaiian pizza had enough ham, cheese, and pineapple to feed a small horse. After being used to prices in the South East, £5.50 for pizza and £4.50 for a cheesy garlic bread is extremely good value. I fear a similar meal back home would set you back £15-20 at least. 

Like two old weirdos, we went back to the university, found an empty wall to sit on, and enjoyed the delectable meal as international students still at the university walked past with side eyes and hurried footsteps. It was the perfect way to end our little jaunt in our old stomping grounds. Old memories resurfaced, and new ones created. 

Takeaway on a wall, it doesn't get much better than that.

1/365: Let's See How Long Daily Blogging Lasts

As the clock struck midnight, I rolled over, gave my girlfriend Layla a kiss and a "Happy New Year" and proceeded to open up War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. The last New Year's of my 20s was riveting, but I wouldn't change it. In fact, I can't remember the last time I was out partying on New Year's or anything of the sorts. It's just not a bit of me and I'd rather stay inside and not deal with the crowds and riff raff if I can avoid it. Having New Year's off this year probably means I'll likely be working next year anyway! 

I don't really have New Years resolutions or goals as such, just a continuation of what I am doing. In terms of my fitness, I want to continue improving my running. I've got three main races this year I want to focus on - an Easter 10k in April, the Sittingbourne 10-miler in the summer, and then the Vilnius Half Marathon in September. The 10-miler will be the first time doing that distance, but it will be good practice for my Half Marathon a month and a half after. I want to continue going to parkruns where I can and, if I manage to stay injury-free, I want to log about 500km of running this year on Strava, which should be achievable (I got to 360km in 2025 but didn't start running until the end of February). If I can get my weight down to approx. 100kg, that would be a bonus too (I just love food too much, but have made good progress in December despite Christmas to be fair!). 

I have a number of adventures and trips planned for the year - Lithuania at the end of January, London to Malta overland in February (in 4 days...), and the big one - New Orleans and the American South in March with Layla. From there, nothing is booked but I'm likely to go to France and Lithuania in June and then Lithuania again in September. All being well, I should be able to hit fifty countries travelled to in 2026. 

I want to read more, and read quality more. I want to read the classics (hence War and Peace) and I want to read the best books ever written. I've come to realise I read too many books that "sound cool or interesting" but end up being lacklustre. After reading Lonesome Dove in October, I realised that there's no shame in taking book recommendations off strangers on the internet, especially if they are highly rated and if it's got a Pulitzer Prize, regardless of the genre, it's probably pretty good. Stoner which I finished on New Years Eve showed that to me even further. I've often failed in reading challenges because I've become bored of the books I'm reading, and I won't allow that to happen anymore. 

In turn, I want to write more. Ideally I'd love to write another novel or travel guide or memoir, but even just travel blogging and articles. Hell, it'd be nice to get an article published in an online newspaper such as Intrepid Times or something similar. If I can do that, great - if I can't well I'll just keep on blogging to the empty stadium. I'm going to try and blog on here everyday if I can. No promises, but this is the first of 365 I hope, just to keep me in the habit of writing - even if I can only muster a sentence or two. 

2026 promises to be a good one I reckon, but we'll take the good with the bad. Happy New Year to anyone who reads this, and I'll see you in 365 days time.