In September 2002 I rocked up in Bratislava with a couple of bags and just enough cash to last until my first paycheck. And so unfolded one of the great years of my life…
‘‘Road trip!!!’’ cried Myles, slapping both hands down on my shoulders. ‘‘Next Saturday, there’s like fifty places on the bus, so sign your ass up!’’ ‘‘Sounds cool, who’s organizing it?’’ We were at The Slovak Pub and I was working my way through a hearty bowl of goulash, Ben smoking to my left, Sladjana fiddling with her phone on my right.
‘‘Eric!’’ replied Myles, his eyes dancing as he flagged down a passing waitress, ‘‘he’s got a whole route mapped out. Gonna SEE this mother fucking country!’’