Monthly Archives: September 2008

Stop Press: Greenygrey agrees publishing deal


How the news of Greenygrey’s publishing deal was broken:

Yes, exciting news as the Greenygrey nears the end of its journey. Following lengthy and complicated discussions it has agreed to publish the journey blogs you’ve come to love over the year with the greenygrey website, and has brought in renowned self-proclaimed genius and freelance writer, Dr. Marc Latham, to edit the book.

The greenygrey said he was delighted at the outcome from the negotiations, and now just wanted to get on with finishing off its epic journey without any more distractions: ‘Yeh, it’s not my cup of tea really, and some of the time it got a bit gruelling. I’m definitely ready for the open roads and some nature now, and can’t wait to get in some shapeshifting and time travel too if possible. I think Dr. Marc Latham is the man for the job, and I have every confidence in his ability.’

Dr. Marc Latham proclaimed it a dream job, and one he’s been waiting all his career for: ‘It’s the break I’ve been waiting for, to edit the book of such a virtual travelling legend is what I’ve been breaking my back for over the years. For me, it’s the big one, and I just hope I can do the project justice.’

We shall have to wait and see how it pans out. Watch this space.


Dale Aware in Delaware


PMD 3: Delaware

As I crossed into Delaware I still felt merry from my travel through Maryland; this was added to by the fact that I’d reached my last state: the final stop on my epic North American journey. Ironically, my last US state, Delaware, is often referred to as the First State, as it was the first to ratify the constitution.

After heading across the north of Delaware I met a couple of strange looking creatures at the Brandywine River, and they introduced themselves as Frodo and Sam. They said they were hobbits, and funnily enough they were also finishing an epic journey, although theirs sounded even more exciting than mine, and much more dangerous. We walked down to the dales together, and the glowing lime green colours reminded me of somewhere else from my past; somewhere buried deep in my mind. I became dale aware in Delaware.

After bidding the hobbits farewell at the shire, I made my way down to Dover, which also gave me a feeling of deja-vu, and my past seemed to be reawakening; it wasn’t that I’d been there before, it was the name.

From there I travelled to Milford, which had a nice sound, before ending my trek through Delaware at Cape Henlopen. A Fighting Blue Hen greeted me there, and said that normally it challenges visitors to a brawl, but it had decided to greet me in peace. I said thanks, and being a veggie werewolf I won’t eat you. This reciprocation of goodwill seemed to go down well, and we got on like a henhouse on fire after that.

As we had a few glasses of speckled hen I reminisced about my epic journey; all the creatures I’d met, adventures had, tasty acronyms and beautiful views experienced. And now I seemed to be becoming aware of my past more than ever before. Would more travelling lead to further revelations? How many more roads must I travel? Only time will tell, and for now I sat back and enjoyed the feeling of journey’s end, as the last rays of sunlight fell over the Delaware Bay.

Merry land in Maryland


PMD2= Maryland

I woke up in the morning with Lake Erie not feeling so eerie in the daylight. However, I found myself on the wrong side of the state for my next destination: Maryland. So I quickly shape-shifted into an eagle and flew over the state and border, before landing in Hagerstown, in the north-west of Maryland. I was met by a merry viking called Hager the Honourable, and he provided me with a tasty veggie brekkie. We supped some ale with the chow, and it became a merry occasion.

After thanking Hager and bidding him farewell I swam down the Potomac River, which was full of fish swimming merrily-on-high. I got down to Rockville by lunch-time, and was just in time for a great concert featuring Guns n’ Roses, Blondie, Aerosmith, Tina Turner, the Rolling Stones and the Runaways, so I was soon rocking merrily away.

Then I headed over to Bowie, where I met a Spider from Mars called Ziggy. I asked him why Maryland was such a merry land, and he said it did help that it was the richest state in the US. His Beatle mate said but money don’t buy you love.

Then I sprang over to Silver Spring, where my grey side felt at home, before heading up to Baltimore. I had a variety of Indian dishes in a nice restaurant there, and when the merry waiter asked if I would like anything else, I just had to say more Balti please. More balti in Baltimore! What a wit I can be at times!!

Then I went down to Annapolis, where I received a police escort from a merry officer called Anna to the Chesapeake Bay. She was willing to take me over the bridge, but I fancied a swim, and with the Chesapeake such a famous landmark, I thought it fitting to get in the drink, and give my greenygrey fur a bit of a wash.

I enjoyed it so much I swam right out of the bay, and up the ocean to Ocean City, where I rested up for the night. I felt so merry!

Thanks for joining me in Maryland, and please return for the conclusion of my epic North American next week in Delaware (virtually rather than physically!).

Pencil Vainier in Pennsylvania


PMD 1: Pennsylvania

The beginning of my last acronym; after months of virtual travelling and too many acronyms than I care to remember, here I was, crossing the border into my last one.

I made good progress in the morning, and found myself on Loyalsock Creek by lunchtime. It was nice and greenygrey there, so I felt at home, and enjoyed a nice little dip to refresh myself. My greenygrey coat was very appreciative.

While I was drying myself off a sock and a pencil approached me, and we entered into a nice conflab about this and that. We started talking about old wars, and how smartly dressed soldiers were often as patriotic as they were resplendent. I asked if it was similar for their kind. They agreed that socks are more loyal, while the pencil’s vainier.

I thoroughly enjoyed our chat, and after saying chow I went to get some in the nearby town of Williamsport. I thought there might be lots of people called William playing games there, but I didn’t see any. I didn’t mind, even greenygreys get it wrong sometimes!

After that I headed west. My meeting with the pencil and the sock must have gone to my head, as I went out for a few beers with da boys in Du Boise, got oiled in Oil City, and had some mead in Meadville before sleeping it all off on the shores of Lake Erie. As usual at Lake Erie, I felt a bit eerie there, but this time it might have been because my head was spinning!

Con Etiquette in Connecticut


MR.C 3= Connecticut

Crossing into Connecticut I headed down to Lake Candlewood for a morning dip, and enjoyed it apart from the sticky goo floating on the surface; it got on my wick a bit.

I headed north-east after that, and called in at Waterbury for a bit of a rinse, before heading up to New Britain for tea and crumpets.

Energised from some good buttered crumpets and strong cream tea I headed up to Connecticut’s biggest city, Hartford, in super fast time. I saw that the Hartford Wolf Pack was playing Worcester Sharks in an American Hockey League ice-hockey game that night, so bought a ticket and had some supper before going to the game.

As I arrived at the stadium a rough looking shark pushed into me before trying to sell me a dodgy looking ticket. I told it I already had a ticket and it should learn some con etiquette.

I really enjoyed the game, and especially as the Wolf Pack beat the Sharks in a close and good-natured game, although the Sharks did get a bit snappy at times.

It was night-time when the game finished, but I made my way over to the Connecticut River and swam south to the Long Island Sound. I surfaced in Old Lyme, where my greeny side felt very much at home. Even my grey side was quite limey by the time I entered open sea in the Sound. This came in handy when I ended up in Greenwich, and fitted in just perfectly. I slept well.

Rowed I land in Rhode Island


Mr.C 2: Rhode Island

Leaving Massachusetts with my chewers intact, I headed down to Prudence Island. It was nice and sunny when I arrived, and I spent a chilling morning relaxing on the beach.

However, a storm brewed up just before lunch, and my prudent decision to buy a canoe and oars was vindicated. So I pushed it out to sea, and paddled up the Narragansett Bay for an hour or two, until the city of Providence was in sight. Just as I was about to reach the harbour a dream I’d had the night before came back into my head, with the thought of me telling myself ‘Rowed, I land’, and then a few minutes later I rowed my last, and landed.

Once back on terra firma I headed into the city, and to keep my grey side quiet I travelled back to the nineteenth century to watch the Providence Grays win the first World Championship in baseball history in 1884. Those were some celebrations.

After that I travelled back to the modern age and travelled up to Pawtucket, where I gave my paws a well-earned rest with a paw spa before tucking in to some tea.

Then I travelled west, with my revitalised paws carrying me at lightning speeds. I headed up Jerimoth Hill, Rhode Island’s highest point, and camped there for the night. It’s a beautiful place, but most of the good spots had already been taken by towel-wielding bugs.

Mass o’ Chew Sets in Massachusetts


MR.C 1: Massachusetts

Having made a diversion from my original plans by travelling to N2 instead of MR.C I now had to get myself back on track, with no land border between New Jersey and Massachusetts.

So I shape-shifted into a buzzard and flew up to Lowell; I chose a buzzard as I knew I’d be passing through Buzzards Bay air space, and didn’t want to ruffle the buzzards’ feathers so to speak. The buzzards were glad to see me, and gave me an escort through their territory. I appreciated their hospitality, and their company broke up the flight.

After landing in 1940s Lowell I visited the childhood home of my favourite author, Jack Kerouac, whose travel narratives influenced my rambles. We had a bit of a chat and a beer, and entered into a conversation about writing and travelling experiences and tips. I don’t think my advice really influenced his later writing, but I like to think my support gave him some inspiration.

Leaving Lowell I time-travelled back into the 21st century, and nearly got knocked down by a fast modern automobile. I got back into the swing of the new age after that, and made it down to Boston in time for tea.

I bit into something a bit tough while eating, and thought I might need some false teeth for a while. I asked a passing leprachaun if he knew where there might be a dentist, and he said there was one with a mass o’ chew sets around the corner. I thanked him, and set off for it, but by the time I arrived the pain had passed, and my need for new chewers had passed.

I fancied a swim after the flight and run, so I shape-shifted into a cod and swam down Cape Cod Bay to Nantucket Sound, which was quite noisy. Then I met up with the buzzards again, and we finished the day off drinking wine in Martha’s Vineyard. We toasted Massachusetts and Kerouac, and wished each other good times on the road and in the air.

New Jersey in New Jersey


N2 2: New Jersey

I crossed from New York State into New Jersey over the George Washington Bridge, and had a cranberry breakfast.

Then I hiked up high to High Point, where my greenygrey fur was uncharacteristically unable to keep out the cold. So I bought a nice new jersey at a stall selling second-hand merchandise: it was a Bon Jovi jersey from their ‘Slippery When Wet’ tour. Yes, that was a great album, and there have been many fine songs from the New Jerseyians; in fact, I often sing ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ when I’m travelling through hunting grounds!

Then I made my way over to Camp Glen Gray, where my grey side had a good time, before heading into the city. Jersey City was great, and I saw Bruce Springsteen play at the Asbury. I mingled in the crowd with other celebrities, like Patti Smith and Lauryn Hill.

As I was leaving the club a little worse for wear a strange creature appeared, looking like a winged horse. It said it was the Jersey Devil, and asked what I was doing in its neighbourhood. I said I was just passing through, but it wasn’t happy with my presence, which was probably down to me being a much nicer looking mythological creature. Anyway, I said I was in a bit of a rush, as I had more states to visit, and gave it my Bon Jovi jersey as a goodwill offering, before bidding farewell and legging it.

I paid homage to the Lenni Lenape culture’s wolf clan as I left the city, and then headed out to the countryside again. I travelled through New Brunswick, which reminded me of my Canadian travels, before swimming and eating in the Great Egg Harbour River.

I ended the day in Salem, where I thought I’d had my lot, as there were vampires and witches all over the shop. Not the kind of thing a respectable vegetarian werewolf needs after a hard day’s hoboing. I managed to get some sleep after letting out an almighty howl that even shocked myself.