We awoke to find the car missing. It took 3 hours to find the clamping station and we had to pay 20 quid to get it back.

Then we drank coffee in a cafe, keeping a keen eye on the car whilst making plans for the day. Soon it was time to leave but somehow the car was clamped, we made another call and in 5 minutes a man arrived, he asked for 5 quid and we were free again.

So here I go again, this time with Nizam as my co-pilot, on a 26 hour drive through Bulgaria, Turkey, and across Syria to Damascus. St Paul had his conversion on this path, and now St Sean is looking for his. After defending the persecuted gypsies of Bulgaria I got robbed by one of them in the street last night. The fuckers. That’s my bleeding-heart liberal charity work done for the year.

But It is great to be moving on; away from the pastries, the white cheese, and the beautiful looking people. All very stunning indeed, puts us in UK to shame. I am uplifted by the spirit of the Art Hostel in Sofia and the wonderful people there – Finding the Art Hostel was like discovering a great secret wine, it was without doubt my best Bulgarian moment. Now we face the long road, with hope, fear, and trepidation in our hearts – filming all the way and giggling like small children on a day out to the seaside.