Today I stood in a busy road for about an hour and a half. I was not alone, this busy road was popular. People driving past stopped to find out why this particular stretch of road in East Yorkshire was more popular than any other. "What's that?" they would ask when told. They would drive off still bemused and pobably none the wiser.
It cost me rather a lot in time, money and effort to get to this busy thoroughfare, which bemused other people, my taxi driver for instance, who expressed his bemusement in between swearing a lot. As an aside, what fantastically cheap taxis they have up here. The equivalent journey in London would have cost me my flat.
After an hour watching a brown field in the busy road, I went somewhere altogether quieter. Spurn, where there were no birds whatsoever. I couldn't find anywhere to stay either, so a nice man I'd met in the busy road gave me a lift to Goole, which gives Fraserburgh a run for it's money as somewhere you don't really want to be.
Then I went home.
... oh the bird! Some blue thing from the continent, one I missed last year. Victory is mine blue bird, hah!
A F***ING EUROPEAN ROLLER!!! OMG.
Shite photos, cracking bird.
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