Post by barnaby on Aug 30, 2010 3:27:14 GMT -5
As he drove his yellow VW Beetle along the route south out of Portland, Barnaby Blackwell sang happily along with Kasabian's rendition of 'West Ryder Silver Bullet'. Happy for a number of reasons. Firstly it was a damned fine day and the Oregon sun beat down, warming the English-born man entirely, but also he was still relishing the after glow of the previous night, and a certain brunette waitress who'd been more than happy to serve him after hours when the 'Copper Kettle' had finally closed for the night. Their night had been one filled with a passion and hunger he knew had to last him for the indefinite future as once he'd reached his destination thoughts of that kind would have to be firmly set aside. His smile grew as his voice rang out with the song's chorus and the wind swept through his dark brown hair.
Behind the sunshades a pair of equally brown eyes focused sharply on the road ahead despite it being bare of any other vehicle. Oregon's Gifford Pinchot National Forest at such an unearthly hour was hardly likely to be busy, but he fully intended reaching Santa Monica before nightfall as the previous few days had been wearing beyond belief. His journey had started back in New York - Fort Hamilton to be exact. From there he'd driven across the country, embarking on a journey that back home would have seen him able to go from the southernmost tip of England all the way up to John O'Groat's in Scotland. The entire length of the British mainland isles. Three times... At least!
The CD ground to a halt and Barnaby reached down to jab a finger at the eject button, only momentarily taking his eyes off the road to do so. The disk was dropped onto the passenger seat and another inserted, this time Muse and the volume was increased as the desert filled with the sound of music - and some pretty bad accompaniment.
He stopped just the once just after Redding before pushing on well into the afternoon and arriving at his destination. Almost 3pm... and not a moment too soon as he was stating to seriously flag. Hardly surprising given he'd been on the road now for the past 50 or so hours and even with the break in between he'd be the first to admit he was totally knackered. Barnaby pushed his untidy hair off his face as he drew into the town, scooping his paperwork off the seat to his right and trying to find his final destination.
He drew over to the side of the road and flagged down a passerby. Student maybe? Perhaps even a kid he'd be teaching next term. If so why weren't they in school right now?
'Semester!' he forcibly reminded himself... again!
"Hey there," he greeted with a smile. "I'm looking for Venice Beach... and also... ah... " He checked the letter once more. "... Miranda Drive. Can you point them out to me?" His sharply accented voice screamed English even if his appearance gave none of that away.
Behind the sunshades a pair of equally brown eyes focused sharply on the road ahead despite it being bare of any other vehicle. Oregon's Gifford Pinchot National Forest at such an unearthly hour was hardly likely to be busy, but he fully intended reaching Santa Monica before nightfall as the previous few days had been wearing beyond belief. His journey had started back in New York - Fort Hamilton to be exact. From there he'd driven across the country, embarking on a journey that back home would have seen him able to go from the southernmost tip of England all the way up to John O'Groat's in Scotland. The entire length of the British mainland isles. Three times... At least!
The CD ground to a halt and Barnaby reached down to jab a finger at the eject button, only momentarily taking his eyes off the road to do so. The disk was dropped onto the passenger seat and another inserted, this time Muse and the volume was increased as the desert filled with the sound of music - and some pretty bad accompaniment.
He stopped just the once just after Redding before pushing on well into the afternoon and arriving at his destination. Almost 3pm... and not a moment too soon as he was stating to seriously flag. Hardly surprising given he'd been on the road now for the past 50 or so hours and even with the break in between he'd be the first to admit he was totally knackered. Barnaby pushed his untidy hair off his face as he drew into the town, scooping his paperwork off the seat to his right and trying to find his final destination.
He drew over to the side of the road and flagged down a passerby. Student maybe? Perhaps even a kid he'd be teaching next term. If so why weren't they in school right now?
'Semester!' he forcibly reminded himself... again!
"Hey there," he greeted with a smile. "I'm looking for Venice Beach... and also... ah... " He checked the letter once more. "... Miranda Drive. Can you point them out to me?" His sharply accented voice screamed English even if his appearance gave none of that away.