I think impulsiveness is important — it goes hand in hand with spontaneity. Its sexy.

There is stability and then there is unpredictable, passionate, adventurous.

So, in a slight ebb in my mood, I booked a holiday, the remaining 50 quid in my account, on DROPS, the excellent feature of Skyscanner which provides you with cheap flights from your area, at dates when there is available seats on the plane. So I booked to go to Majorca for 2 days.

It really helped being in a groovy mood prior to arrival, I hosted the best party of my life just before I left, three acts playing bluesy swing/ folk and rock.

Basically I was flying, on a glow, dangerous and excited, everything I touched, looked at or spoke to created happenings. I groaned my way out of bed at 4:30 a day after the partial cleanup and managed to get to Glasgow Airport. Made it to the boarding pass scanner barriers, then realized I was at the wrong airport. Perhaps the consequence of the "sexy" impulsiveness I referred to earlier.

No matter, I had time so I spent 70% of my budget getting an Uber to Prestwick airport, which is also named a Glasgow airport, the cheeky buggers!

On the Road by Kerouac, oh ye, I read it at the right time, at my most corruptible, so I wasn't even freekin bothered about my 70 quid Uber.

But notions of my last failed tobacco project loomed large. Check it out. Milan chimes.

I met Faraz, and we were getting on sweet as anything, he told me about his best friend Mateen who he missed in Pakistan, and after hearing one of his rap songs, I managed to control the aux the entire ride, the Alan Parsons project was hitting me right in this bendered tired state, I was paddling and basically on one of the greatest waves of my life. He also gave me a whole pack of fags complements to my groove.

The flow, excitement and stimulation of travel actually gave me motivation, when all the things I had to do felt so distant and boring, I mustered the courage to just try and look at it for a second, so in the airport I finished my last uni assignment a couple hours before the submission date. The Summer begins.

I found out that groaning in public is very attractive, almost irresistible, perhaps the groan is a moan, it suggests effort and hardship, public exposure and nonchalance. So, I was moaning and groaning, my mental state this electric mad energy that was infecting everyone. I looked at a child with my sunglasses on, I started the abstract path that I would communicate with this wee boy with my energy and my mind, so I am thinking and telling him of hardship, and my struggles — then a beam with all the pulsing power in my gut, and heart I spoke "dream big, dream big." I look over at him and he is staring into me so powerfully, so intense.

I was telling everyone on the plane of my plan — I would go and sleep on a hammock, spend no money and bring back tobacco. The lady next to me, a Polish mother of three, was less impressed than the Majorcan air hostess.

All good trips require planning, so I brought a mango, 10% charge on my laptop and 25% on my phone. I made it to Palma, oooo yeee baby, it is warm over there. So bussed from the airport to the centre, having milled around asking for advice, smoking cigarettes and relishing a cheeky grin only a nifty vagrant posho would have.

The air hostess also recommended me an area in the Serra de Tramuntana mountain range.

I found a nice lady near the bus station to lend me a knife, I ate my mango and met a British expat called Charles, who readily assured me to get in as much trouble as I could. I bought some supplies in a shop — bread, cheese and ham, some sunscreen, water and a 1L Beer.

My first stop was to Deia, the two buses costing about 10 euros in total, so other than my little mishap ending at the wrong airport I was doing pretty well. In Deia I went down to the ocean, my visions of a beautiful secluded private beach where I could take off all my clothes and frolic feverishly. However three hours of anxiety about snakes in the undergrowth, a whole lot of scrambling which was pretty fun actually, climbing into private property by whatever means necessary brought no avail, except for a rather beautiful moment where being spooked by a sound behind me brought a friendly donkey, whom I sang a song.

Down at the public beach I cooled off, and watched with anxiety the mothers taking professional pictures.

I started walking to Soller, it was getting dark though, a little cold and I was tired. The thing is what I had learned from my first tobacco project trip was that comfortability is paramount. As long as you feel in control, then it doesn't matter how skint you actually are. Comfortability, preparation and the affinity for the skint life creates this wonderful dualism — a homeless posh boy, flourishing in adventure, relying on his charm, wit and willingness to get out there.

Nevertheless, the road is tough. I managed to catch a ride with a German lassie called Rena into Soller but by this time it was dark, I still hadn't found a place to stay and was worried. Your community though, they bring that safeness — my wonderful sister Jasmin reassured me with her words, just with her voice I started to feel better, safer.

I eventually walked down a railway line, jumped a fence and found a place to set up my hammock, which took a while. I guzzled half of my beer in my no-good sleep slumber. It was cold, shivery and feverish. But that is the mood — euphoric, trance like, a mind out of reality as you walk the road like a demi-god, half-light and half dark.

The next day was perfect. Beautiful and perfect.

Sleeping rough is hard. I was grateful for the sun coming up releasing me from my cold nightmare. I packed up still tired and sleepy, got my boots back on and my hammock back in my bag and started to descend the hill. I played Beethoven's Archduke Trio as I stumbled out of my stupor along this road, the sun similarly taking its time to wake up. I walked curious of my surroundings — the lemon and orange trees bearing fruit brought delightful thoughts. That I was living, simpler and kinder than I had ever lived before, sleeping with the land, eating from the land and giving back to the world the best I could.

Breakfast was this reintegration. Those thoughts expressed previously are important — we can and ought to live a wilder life than we do. For breakfast, I had the cheapest: tomato on bread, a coffee and a glass of water.

Then out I went. I tried to bum a cigarette. But one must remember to capture the heart — you need to present yourself as something desirable, funny, amusing. Beggars! Absolutely Not!

So I am strutting about the town starting to wake up a wee bit. It is beautiful, the technology which we have to talk to our close ones — trips over in edge city certainly remind us of what we are grateful for.

I looked over at the church, one of the most beautiful buildings in the Soller city centre, then headed over to Porto de Soller.

I headed through the streets and into a bakery, and with a big smile, used my little Spanish to get some bread and a wee pastry. Yummy as I continue my voyage to the ocean. Walking with beautiful contentment thinking about all things, transporting myself into the past, into the future, and back to the road in front of me. What a beautiful sight. Taking pictures, drinking water and listening to good jazzy music — Ike Quebec.

The Porto de Soller, a crescent moon shaped bay, full of holidaying families. Watching these people working, I wonder what types of people they experience. Probably the same sort constantly — do they wish to escape? Perhaps escaping is a young man's game. Perhaps escaping is a privilege only the bold can afford.

I swaggered and with my performative politeness asked for a bit of mayonnaise for my bread. The garlic mayo was the good stuff. I didn't need a whole cup but thanked him graciously anyway. I went down to the beach and started to undress.

Months of Glasgow's cold, the months of stress, sameness. This hot sensation on my skin was taking my troubles away, serene as I smoked a Pueblo — goddamn that stuff is strong. I swam all the way out to the pier, breast and back. And dove back in to head back to shore. A sensuous swim in a good mood. This life is truly magnificent!

Then back on the road. That sweet road. For the first time I found the Camino de Majorca. I lost my groovy hat the night before, so I wrapped my t-shirt over my head. I walked feeling like a religious man doing this trip, for meditation. It is meditative, the trip on foot. Walking quickly with euphoric delight for the good weather, the exhaustive sweat trickling down my face and the scenery. This tranquil easy place, fruit from the trees, a well-trodden path. A game where you try to say hello in the native language of the passers by.

I was running a little low on water as I summited this hilly stretch, seeing the silhouette of a man in this dwelling. "Pardon monsieur, agua por favor." His name was Tom. I was thirsty and he gave me water. A Sikh principle of Vand Chhako — the giving of food and water to the needy. Tom was German, he graciously let me drain the water from a bottle and offered to refill mine.

We spoke of the island life, how everyone on the island is relaxed because of the nature of those which come to the island. He spoke of respect — that there is a responsibility of those which come to the island to respect its beauty and its life. He recommended me a secluded beach, Llucalcari camp. He even wrote in my journal. We smoked a cigarette together, I shook his hand, looked in his kind eyes and we went our separate ways. Tom had travelled, he was cultured and now lived in Majorca — carpe libertatem — and he was content.

The road continued. Now my mood was flying, I was walking at speed, pepping and stepping, giggling and relishing in my thoughts. Two ideas. The SSSunglasses — a brand I ought to create, its ethos: strong, sturdy and sexy sunglasses.

There are ideas that we have, they come and go. Our duty is to record them. Some actions we must do, to act as stops along the way. They capture progression, they capture a sentiment that we have had at a time which allows for a life that we think is important. If you let things slip then the changes in your life will bring you on another path with little evidence that a person which you were at a different time existed. And here is the proof — as age passes by there is beauty in resonating with your younger self.

I passed the road, and here I got a wee bit lazy, so I stuck my thumb out for a ride. Foreshadows of the future! And two chaps picked me up. Sebastian and Gabriel — cool cats, South African Spanish. One educated at Bristol, they were people like me. They were involved in property, and we started riffing like we had been friends for years.

They took me to Deia, passed on their number, and went their separate way.

The next four hours were one of the most feverishly hypnotic of my life. All the good and greatness in myself at that time just exploded in a magical firework display. I bought one drink and over the hours, got chatting to about five different groups. Each one rewarding me by buying me another drink and keeping the run rolling. I was running through people, not drinks!

Sing for your supper, a good friend proclaims.

But something truly magical happened to me. A man called Dale. And what he did was make me cry, right there at the table in the bar in front of his friends, and I cried willingly — emotion overwhelmed me with happy and beautiful feeling, a rare moment. He moved me with his words. He said that I should publish my writing, and I shouldn't do it for money, but for others, to inspire them. To try to touch their souls as Dale did to mine, to help and love. He believed in me and believed in my genius.

Next to the bus stop before I went to the airport, the tobacco store I went. I bought 10 pouches of tobacco, 8 euros a piece. At the airport I bought Riverstone for dad and King Straights to sell at the races on the following Wednesday.

Now is the time I say that I made a profit. The actual trip itself I must have spent no more than 100 pounds bar the flights and airport hiccup. Living rough and not eating out, it is indeed possible to holiday for cheap. But it is hard — mistakes are made and comfort and security are two things that really determine how much you spend.

Talking about vices, I may have got high on my own supply. I didn't sell as much tobacco as I should have ;)

Everyone needs a job. Everyone needs income, the factor’s deeming value are time, independence, fulfilment and wage.

For agency work across the board, our independence is our own, our time we can control, our agency is our own scheduling for jobs, our time is worth a little over 10 pounds an hour. The work is not fulfilling.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have taken a lot from the agency work I have done. I am grateful working for Splendid, for I have been taken to beautiful venues across Scotland, from the Isle of Bute, Mount Stuart, Kinross House to Holyrood palace.

1000 pounds is what I will earn for 2 weeks of work, of all the places in the world the United Kingdom is the currency to crave 1000. The opportunity is that this money is better spent elsewhere, go to a place where 1000 will last longer, take that money and get time to live, time to experience, time to revel. The means of this amount cannot be gratefully conceived, spin your globe put your finger on a place, you can go and flourish, your working time is disproportionate to its weight. Others cannot relate.

Boredom and fatigue are its vices. But what can we take out of it. For one thing, paint your ceiling a vibrant blue or green, create little crystal glass stars. Perhaps even commission or ask an artist to paint dreamlike hypnotic figures. For your beautiful ceiling will now glimmer like the universe, it will shine in the sun and deepen your imagination in dark.

These venues are stunning, magnificent and transporting places, architecturally rich. The clientele is also rich. Once belonging to the upper classes of Scotland, now attracting the high socio-economic, the events go from weddings, private parties, functions and fundraisers. We are the servants.

Not that I mind too much, though my concerns do pique, for I do not want to be a slave. I philosophise too much to be a slave.

My warning to my colleagues is that spending too much time serving someone else, your own power starts to diminish. You could start to believe that your place is working for the successful rather than for success. We all have the capacity.

Hospitality and events all share similar characteristics, they can be stressful, it is typically mismanaged. There is a lot of time standing around waiting for the next turn of events. The staff spend an awful lot of time chatting badly or about its masters. Gossip.

I am grateful to be a small fry.

Our managers masters are the clientele, our masters are our managers, we are answerable to both but with mobility. With little responsibility comes opportunity. These power dynamics cause all sorts of trouble, comparison prompts envy. Pushing power can filter down, if you are being bossed, you can then take it to boss others. The jester at the bottom delivers upon instruction with understanding in clarity. Foresight and accountability upon ourselves give us all sorts of freedoms. One to focus our minds on the future from a low place, people believe it is perhaps character building, serving the rich to motivate us to get there ourselves.

Freedom to talk with each other, wonderful creative people I work besides, some with their own passions, an oil painter who offered to paint me. Funny, wise and interesting people. Mika spoke about working on Yachts in hospitality where huge sums of money could be made (my only regret is I didn’t do it earlier, he said). Journeys that others underwent and shared, stories and passions. With this we receive guidance, inspiration and opportunity. Dominic, a Californian living in North Ireland who gave me his details in hope of helping me get a bar job in San Diego, his friend owned a Dive bar. Katie whom is a beat girl, she sees travel and life in front of her and she does not flinch.

In this you can share yourself for others such as suggesting an artist to help with the Edinburgh Fringe, perhaps run a workshop.

Hard work is important. It is easy to fall into the trap of complaint, it is the matter of choice, we do indeed choose to work but we do so because we must. The choice however is in our hands, this need is consuming, privilege is really the ability to delay choice, it is sometimes wholly necessary. It forces our hand, we then feel like we have lost. Perhaps lost our free will, perhaps lost out on opportunity because of our lack of time.

Complexity and simplicity. We must never forget of the food we need to sustain, the water to live, the space to roam and the comfort to rest. Lest you forget that everything else does not matter. You have agency.

Yasmin is the epitome of hospitality fever, worksick. She begins her distorted but wise accounts of her life by proclaiming that those in the room (whom we will serve) belong because they have done beneficial things for society, we on the other hand have not. She may well have been right. But I do right by making people smile, laugh, by inspiring. Being grateful and present. She did not understand this good, this importance. That regardless of my life by uttering positivity and enthusiasm into the world, I am indeed doing well by society.

She worked for the House of Parliament, the St Andrew building in Edinburgh. Heading the hospitality for the Scottish Parliament. I said that, by her giving the politicians of this country a good breakfast, she was fuelling the country, the decisions and hopefully the improvements.

She did not like this however, perhaps because of the inescapable realities of society which politicians cannot control and because of the quality of politicians. Perhaps she thought that they were doing a shit job because of the quality of their breakfast or perhaps she didn’t like my accent.

To my gospels of positivity she demeaned my life by comparing her experience, that bills needed to be paid, life kicks you down. How old I am and what I had been through suggests my narrow scope of life.

I did not disagree…I just disliked, I disliked her judgements. I disliked her sentiments. Her experience of loss in society should not used as a warning to others; she preached this pessimistic realism of downtrodden. She had no right. We are young, we have control. And so had she.

But she indeed was wise, wise to life and wise to us. She sacrificed as she said take me for an example, do not stay in hospitality as your wonder, intrigue, beauty and love for the world will die in servitude.

In this end though, ugliness appears…it appears in chatting about others, comparison, dislike and jealousy. From talking bad about our masters, to their masters and the master’s above them.

So stay in school, stay focussed and know exactly what you wish to do. For me that is writing, writing of any sort or another. Honing my craft is one thing, publishing is another. As soon as I start to publish, I am exporting my craft.

Ideas as another, but as lessons I have learnt before me ambition is brilliant only when finalising, goal making and succeeding.

We all deserve a break! But how much of this break will be restful. I was sat at a bus stop with hopeful eyes but a radical demeanor. I had 25 quid in my bank account on the Saturday and due for a bit more money that week, so I decided my break would be a 22 quid flight to Milan. Wizz.

I bought the return a little later that week, typically not recommended, having got stuck in Romania for a week in the summer; buy them together. Though I could think of worse places to be stranded. However, Milan is cold in November, how bizarre. It doesn't sound like a cold place.

So, I have now spent 44 pounds on my getaway, my quest; Italian job from the 28th–1st of December is going to cost me under 100 pounds. Returning on my birthday .

I have some ideas, so accommodation is going to be expensive. First perhaps be a vagabond, and just sleep in the train station, maybe cradling a bottle of Italian red to lull me to sleep, having snuck a sleeping bag under my shirt as I go through security.

Next, to be the quintessential English gentleman, yes, the three-piece suit. And gestures, I will seduce the continentals showering them with gifts and charm for a place on their sofa.

Marmite, whisky, tinned Haggis (a favorite of mine), shortbread and a bobblehead of Queen Lizzy.

One has got to go big, the nicer the place the more likelihood of success.

However, morale is everything, so my flight getting in at 12:00 plus the time to get to the center, I will be ready to groove by 1:30. However having done my research, they siesta till 4, so I reckon I have a window of 4-6 before dinner time, but after their first glass of wine, when generosity is at its most likely.

With charisma comes a necessity for stimulation; thus I have sent emails to the Cardinal Ildefonso Schuster House, Milan, as a journalist and semi-professional photographer, for a free ticket to go to the Candlelit Beatles concert, my services would be free of charge!

Well, after rather firm words with my mother, sleeping in the train station is a no go! But spend enough time in the pub, talking about your ideas and you find solutions.

One of these:

Couchsurfers. What a fantastic website, totally reliant on the optimism and goodwill of people around the globe, So shoot a few messages, fuck around and find out.

OK SO WHAT HAPPENED.

I haven't heard back from anyone.

Now I am a tad worried.

I am really worried.

So the unfortunate reality of success is confidence, the more experienced you live through, the more you realise that it comes in ebbs and flows. Energy and mood are sporadic, whether you like it or not, rather if you can afford it or not because there is a remedy; a cursed chalice. And it's filled with Alcohol.

The day before the trip, I spent like 15 quid on a Pepe's and started watching pulp fiction in bed. Not a good sign to be socialable enough to bum accommodation from some poor Italian lady. So I got to Milan. One thing that I realized very soon is that it is quite an expensive place, it cost me 15 eruos to get from the airport to the city centre. Doing some maths in my head, 44 flights plus 30 quid to get to and from the airpoet. I had 26 quid left in my budget.

The place is gorgeous however, pretty streets filled with very pretty people. The elegance of the Italians is indescribable. They all just held themselves at a higher accountability of style, beauty and prestige. Especially in the center of town.

I walked past the Duomo, a magnificent cathedral, filled with ogling gargoyles judging my lack of a place to stay.

I started listening to Jilly Coopers, Riders, audiobook. Which lulled me into anti-social lethargy; and rather cruelly played on the sentiments of home. Fuck I went to a boarding school at 11, I haven't been homesick in years but here I am miserable in Milan.

I get to the hostel, I have my haggis but havnae the balls, to ask for a sofa. I go out and have a smoke, to regain my composure, and there it is the Lets Fuck Myself, way out of the situation. A slippery stoner seducing me to salvation.

I smoke it and start crashing out, I am freaking out about where I am staying, I try read my book but there is no way I can read Karl Marx ( I had a romantic notion of my homelessness), I wrote, "I look like a mug" in my diary. So I go and book a hostel room for the night. I had failed, depressed and disgraced. I rang my sister who gave me some quite reasurement but it was a miserable fucking day.

The day after, I went inside the Duomo Cathedral and the Museum besides, quietly walking, watching. At peace with the sounds and surroundings. I went to meseo de La Scalla, the Milanese opera house, here with the stunning guilded gold halls, artwork ranging from the singers, composers, history and jewels of opera. With pictures of the ballet, having decided to start a ballet course a few weeks prior, I was fascinated by the erotic entanglement of the dancers, the flowing swaying motions caught static by the picture, both dynamic and passionate in their still existence.

Yummy!!! Luinis panzerotti, delicious fried break with yummy pizzery fillings. I went to the Castello Sforzesco, walked around the museum there. Each cultural place, so rich in education and beauty but all costing between 5-10 euros.

Though, I was in desperate need to meet some people, there was a wee bar in the park next to the castle which quenched my thirst, Aperol and compare spritz on tap. I met Alexandro and Alexandro, two friends there to watch the football, his dream was to become a filming producer.

But to make them speak in English is to be selfish so I left them with polite gratitude, all of these people will give you the time, people are friendly in nature if you smile and say thank you. Kind people and a good feeling of hope for what felt like a desperate failure the day before.

In the centre of the park, was a lone musician, a guitarist strumming his strings. Playing through the biting cold, I was sipping my drink and utterly brown away. It was a concert just for me, all the songs which are moving and emotive, I found myself dancing, not for anyone, but for the music and myself. I wished I joined in with the singing as he played, Cocaine, Layla, Wish You Were Here and Walking On The Moon.

There my holiday became worth it. It didn't matter! All of it diddnt matter because this little grace, blessed in this moment of balance, in a place I have never even dreamt of before, blessed, grateful and happy dancing in the night, with a Aperol in hand, a concert just for me.

Suddenly I was perky, walking with style, confidence and panache, although my initial intent had failed it wasn't going to stop me from enjoying the story, and perhaps writing one. Money, however, is a work in progress, I spent a lot of money!

I returned to the hostel and met Will and Will, two Aussies, "anyone that speaks the English language is a friend of mine", they reminded me of the vigor I lived when I travelled at 18 and free for the first time. They had worked in London for 6 months, had storys of all sorts and the groove to match. We sang an Australian karaoke, smoked "darts", drank and laughed a lot. The Italians watched from a distance.

The morrow afterwards, a chipper wee chappy, chirping along the street visited Luinis for the 3rd time and met up with Pietro, one of my mum's contacts, who took me to a gorgeous classical Milanese coffee place. It was fancy and I felt like a slight bull in a china shop as I bumbled around with my large bag, with a sleeping bag that I didn't use once .

Will and Will went to the Navigli markets where I joined them. On the way, I met a man with the classiest style in town, a midnight purple overcoat, long swaying hair (he played the synthesizer) complimented by pink boots, "nice boots mate". Eduardo played in a band, had a hot girlfriend and was gracious enough to talk with me as we walked down the street together. He talked of his punky, grungy sound as I talked of working at the O2 in Glasgow. I was proud to suggest help if he ever wanted to tour in Glasgow and later in the evening he reciprocated.

In the markets, we understood why the Milanese were so stylish, there were gorgeous little market shops and stalls, street sellers and vintage stores. Some stores a little bit more expensive, others ok! But the eclectic variety of clothing, art and trinkets were remarkable. One bloke was even trying to sell a pope's hat (I fucking wish I bought it).

Though I did get some cool trousers, with a woolen inner lining, all smooth on my skin. Wearing those puppies right now.

We gandered on until we reached a bar in the eavening, where after a expensive Aperol and a "roady" for our way, we were looking for more. Eduardo, is the man. He cvame back to us within minutes about a place which was honestly minutes away from us. A anarchistic commune, a grungy disco, renegades and rogues, Cox18 was the place.

It required cash, so after a little while we made it in there.

The sound, this dystopian exhibition piece with a bonkers bassist and a DJ. Will and Will were certainly baffled. The drinks were 3 euros and the crowd was so eclectic, I was oozing with the rush of uniqueness and discovery. I had managed to wander into the only underground scene in an otherwise, elegant and pristine place. The people there gave off a counter-cultural sentiment, routed in artistic flirtation. Deep thinking, interesting music and different vibe. Tristan spoke of it as a place squatted in since the 70s. I was half expecting a voodoo shaman to give me a tab of acid.

So is it feasible to go on holiday for 100 quid, well yes! But with great difficulty, and this mission is not over, I will try again. First of all, you need to be uniquely courageous, and perhaps a bit stupid, meet people, go along with them and eventually end up at their flat, it's a bit of a downer on anyone mood's if they feel like they are being used, or are responsible for you, so it has to come naturally after a while, ease the kindness out of them without explicitly asking. Staying in a hostel sofa is definitely feasible however it will be tiring, you will also have to be the last to bed and the first up. The crux is that life is expensive, all the things that I felt proud of doing such as cultural exhibitions, museums and unique monuments ask between 5-10 euros. So, to live cheaply you sort of need to restrict your movements and what you see. Last and not least, is the price of alcohol, of course it is not necessary for a good time but comes hand in hand with socializing with new people, dancing and confidence.

Having decided that my new favorite word was xenodochial: hospitable, or friendly and generous to guests and strangers, I set out on my merry way, walking around Merchant city, sure it was procrastination. But I was happy, I had been fascinated by the eyes of this child on the bus, he was looking around not scared or frustrated but in total peace, but so curious. I felt like I had the same look on my face as I was walking.

There is a certain sect of society who really make xenodochiality easy, they are those that are paid to talk to you. So if you are ever lonely, talk to a EE salesman, or a charity worker, or whomever. Make it deadly clear that you ARENT going to buy his of hers product but enjoy the interaction. Enjoy the energy and the conversation, The EE salesman was having the time of his life, that perky cat proclaiming "I make more P than half of these guys", ye he was confident but I wasn'ae going to burst his bubble. He would go to tech conferences and occasionally cold sell on the street. He even gave me an email to apply, Onboarding@VetraGroup.com , so you perky cats can get yourself a job in sales!

Homeless people are similarly keen but get them chatting and its usually the same sort of ending, so I shared a cigarette and gave them some coins, "stay safe" is usually a nice way to leave it.

This was a good day, I was grooving, talking to strangers, making jokes, making people laugh. Having got my finger measured in a jewelry shop, also hiring https://www.chisholmhunter.co.uk/careers-jobs, and shmoozing the lady so there was no charge, I left with a smile. Then two rather pretty ladies appeared, you want to pray with us on Sunday, "well ye sure", I wasn't going to turn down sister Elfrich and sister Scmutz, they both had nice smiles and a rather convincing demeanor. They asked me about Jesus, well I am not exactly Christian I answered ( a staunch atheist in fact)...but I believe the church is a place of tranquility to reflect and meditate, oh they liked this. So promised I would go the next Sunday. 9 November, a fitting day, Remembrance Sunday. So I took a picture of the ladies happy to oblige, I sent it to my Christian friend Stephen, gave em my number and boom, I was in the Mormon church.

They gave me a text back later that day, a phone number from Guernsey, and rang me, I reiterated that I could only go next Sunday and turned down the offer of additional calls to "elaborate on the package they were willing to provide". I was rather liking all this attention maybe I was in for a girlfriend!

It is now Sunday and glad that Stephen was coming with me, the service was at 10AM and at a church called, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was woken up by the sisters call at the unsociable hour of 8:45, much too sprightful so early in the morning.

Gregg's bap and sandwich, we were on the bus, I was talking to Stephen about my ideas, a flight to Milan from Glasgow for 20 quid read it here!!!!. The girl next to me obviously had to be passed on this crucial information and found out that she was also going to Church, the same one, now that Gods work, she said that she went to the conservatoire and I had a friend there who is an actor, quite tall and homosexual, "he is an especially attractive one", with a wry smile. I thought a good prod couldn't hurt anyone; I was debunked with a disapproving look.

Sarah took us in the back entrance, I made a joke about being kidnapped, she joked, "the poison too". WHAT!!!!!! We found our seats and started to enjoy the service. There was a lot of people in the Church and a group of youngish men behind the speaker. I felt that everyone was nice but a slightly unnerving look in the people's eyes.

I was a tad paranoid, when the communion came round, I decided to go against, a slight thought that the holy bread might be tampered with, Stephen put it right down the hatch. I would observe his movements afterwards.

There were a few hymns which I enjoyed and then the blessing of Daniel, a newborn into the church who was asked to live in the way of the Lord. I was happy to comply with Amen, as the way of the lord to me at least is living with Kindness. I enjoyed the 2-minute silence where I felt that it was important to reflect on the dead and show an appreciation of thought to all that lost their lives in the war.

Next were the testimonies to past family members, the speakers became very emotional, the atmosphere was bizarre, speaking about their family and the importance of Jesus in their lives. One woman, with a quivering lip became nonsensical in her devotion to Jesus, trying to just tell us that it was the truth, that she didn't want to be embarrassed and that it was for Jesus that she owed everything, all in high emotion, which was recurring, some holding back tears.

I was in stimulation overdrive, the unnerving atmosphere of faith, devotion and compliance, the children were crying and cooing, one sister simultaneously playing with wooden blocks with a child a row back from us as elder wang a few paces to my right translated in mumbles what was said.

It was a multicultural place, people there seemed very devoted and thus felt a great amount of security in their relationship with God. An American lady, reflected on her love for Jesus Christ, which was also frequent in these speeches, who will guide her in remaining in Glasgow. One man described a hot sensation at a different church, like warm water being poured into him, which he liked! It told him that this church was the one church of Jesus Christ.

The service was an hour, it was clear that it was a beacon of hope for a lot of people, I walked out of the church feeling slightly queer, I wondered why these sisters were coming round to get people to come to this church? maybe it was simply to please God and Jesus. The book of Mormons doctrines was highlighted as a source of knowledge, for people to refine their faith, or ignorance? Not much guidance or knowledge was ushered, just a reassurance of the truth!

Though a sense of community nevertheless and I am sure if I stuck around there would have been free teas and coffees! I thanked the sisters, though I need a couple years to find Jesus, look its me not you!

Roy Porters assertion that the most cataclysmic event for human health was Columbus's landfall on Hispaniola is correct. The Columbian exchange (the coined term for the migration from Eurasia and Africa to the Americas) saw the greatest indigenous population loss ever seen in humanity, the classical narrative of the daring nature of the foreign conquerors and colonisers establishing new land through military superiority is far from correct, rather the invisible "gift" of disease which Columbus brought from his arrival into the "New World" of the Americas contributed to this terrible loss of life. The indigenous cultures of the Aztecs, Incas and Tainoese will be looked at closely throughout this essay. These cultures despite the narratives of their conquerors where equally complex and nuanced as that of Eurasia and Africa. It is important to note that throughout the ages, these cultures developed in complete isolation. Once this isolation was broken their people were vulnerable to the disease which the Europeans had developed immunity to and subsequently brought along with them; smallpox, influenza, measles, typhus, yellow fever and malaria. Their colonisation and subjugation furthered a Eurocentric narrative of superiority and control over the continent which carries to this day in age; that detriment to human health is too broad to examine. Similarly, the impact of a demographic imbalance in the Americas added to an additional cataclysmic impact for human health, the transfer of 12 million African slaves¹ to work the land, furthering the scope of impact that the Columbian exchange triggered. The extent of loss is highlighted simply as once the western hemisphere was opened; an ecological assimilation occurred, the domination of particular plants and peoples. A loss in biological diversity, a human genetic loss and an ecological homogenization which has created a less varied and more uniform global environment². However, despite the undisputed fact that this anthropological tragedy occurred, the impact of the Columbian exchange has changed the face of this world that we know of today. It brought the Americas from isolation into communication thus creating a more inter-communicative global landscape where the free trade of food, technologies and medicine are possible, as well as drugs, resources and war. The Columbian exchange was indeed a cataclysmic event for human health, its significance will be evaluated throughout the essay including both the positive and negative attributes that apply.

Alfred Crosby's, The Columbian Exchange highlight the contrasts between the Old World and New World perspicuously in suggesting a few elements to consider; the ancestors of the Indians crossed over into the Americas through the Bering Straits from Siberia into Alaska during the Pleistocene (ice age), this crossing brought these people into isolation probably before agriculture had been invented, the first major domestication of wild animals, long before the foundation of the first Sumerian city had been laid and well before the Chinese could write. Thus, the indigenous Indian people developed their way of life is complete isolation, not only hampering the growth of their civilizations but weakening their defences to diseases which would not have managed to make their way along with these migrants due to the cold and desolate environments of Siberia and Alaska.

This comparing to Eurasia and Africa, who had traded and inter-changed as peoples, allowed for herd immunity; a resistance to the diseases that laid rampant to the Old World. Therefore, the migration of man and his maladies as the chief cause of epidemics brought about a profound vulnerability to those who have been in isolation the longest³, that isolation for the Americas broke for the first time with Christopher Columbus in 1492 landing in the Antilles.

Hispaniola was the first to witness the arrival of the Europeans in 1492. The indigenous population, the Taino, met the Europeans and, in their ignorance, believed them to be gods, they saw the swift galleys of the Spanish, their horses and iron blades as something only a superior human could possibly possess, similarly the arrival played into mythical and divine narratives attributed to a white man. However, the Europeans began to abuse their powers, Bartolome de Las Casas provides a reliable eyewitness account of these people's destruction, "They slaughtered everyone and anyone in their path" including "small children, old men, pregnant women and even women who had gave birth".⁴ This highlights that even from the beginning the Europeans saw the natives as inferior beings and thus grossly abused their power over the people. This being the first interaction, laid an alarming precedent of attitudes towards the natives of the Americas, Columbus and his men saw opportunity and exercised little regard for human health in exploiting it!

Furthermore, Columbus noted on the first day of landfall that the Indians, "are very unskilled with arms...and could all be subjected and made to do all that one wished", suggesting an intention for exploitation from the beginning; Whether this strengthens the claim that this was the most cataclysmic event for human health; not directly. The brutality of conquest has taken place for centuries; however it does highlight that from the beginning of discovery, a brash and violent relationship between races is formed, additionally the noted subservience of the native population foreshadows the later conquest of a land which was significantly larger than Columbus had ever expected.

Despite needless bloodshed which ravaged the Antilles areas, the more profound impact on the natives was disease. Oviedo, one of the earliest historians of the Americas, estimated that a million Indians lived on Santo Domingo (Hispaniola) when the Europeans arrived to plant their first permanent colony in the New World. "Of all those and all those born afterwards, there are not now believed to be at the present time in this year of 1548 five hundred persons, children and adults, who are native and of the progeny of the first"⁵, this staggering decline of demographic's highlights the sheer scope of depopulation attributed to the diseases that were brought. Similarly, this depopulation could not have been even slightly credited to the violence of the Conquistadors as noted by Columbus himself whom highlighted the importance of the labour and subjugation, the early colonists had to deal with a chronic labour shortage and needed the Indians. Thomas Harriot notes that the Taino peoples, "neither knew what it was, nor how to cure it; the like by report of the oldest men in the country said that it never happened before". The first epidemic occurred in December 1518 or January 1519, identified as smallpox appeared among the Indians of Santo Domingo, the Spaniards reported that it killed one-third to one-half of the Indians⁶.

However, there is no record of any massive smallpox epidemic among the Indians of the Antilles for a quarter half of a century after the first voyage of Columbus. This slightly reduces the credibility that the most cataclysmic event for human health is directly associated with Columbus himself. Despite Columbus which discovered and shared the existence of the Americas to the world. One must look at the nature of smallpox, the disease which had the most harmful consequences to the Indians, the incubation period is roughly twelve days or so where the patient suffers from vomiting and high fever, then three or four days when the characteristic skin eruptions are suffered. Therefore, showing that the whole process would take less than a month, where the patient is then either dead or immune. This suggests that with the voyage to the Americas taking several weeks at the minimum, it is unfeasible for sailor to be contagious upon arrival in Santo Domingo. The lack of any rapid means to cross the Atlantic, takes accountability of from Columbus and begs the question that Porter's assessment is an exaggeration, based on the vagueness of statement, perhaps a change of wording from "landfall" to discovery is a more accurate prognosis.

On the other hand, the Columbian exchange brought the Old and New Worlds together, Crosbys coined term from "isolation to communication" allows us to understand the breadth of this integration. The impact that Europe had on the Americas for human health is undeniably disastrous, however it is important to consider the profound benefits to world health that this incorporation incurred. During the 16th century Europe saw demographic growth, mainly due to the goods imported from these conquered lands. Maize, Potatoes, Tomatoes, Cassava, Peanuts and other plants that were valuable and easy to grow were introduced in the agricultures of Eurasia and Africa. In the British Isles, the number of inhabitants doubled between 1541 and 1656 with an annual rate of increase of 0.6%⁷.This can only be put to the high calorie, vitamin and nutritiously rich foods that were transferred. Although this increase in population provides no valid comparison to the decrease in the Americas, and thus only slightly diminishes Porter's assessment, it does highlight how this inter-change affected the world. In an ideal world, the development of the Americas could have not been hampered and could have been allowed to naturally progress, but is it pragmatic to assume that this integration would have never happened without Columbus? The concept of mutual discovery developed at the International Congress of Historical Sciences in 1990 in Madrid, where some accountability was rendered, also progressed on changing and confronting a Eurocentric mindset so relevant to the subjugation of the Americas by the "alien" intruder. That reciprocal contributions between the Old World and New are possible and current. In this medicine, infrastructure, and food have had profound impacts for the improvement of global human health.

Additionally, the diseases that spread into the America's, not only caused a profound population loss but the slow entanglement of their unique cultures and traditions, thus psychologically demoralising the natives weakening their resistance to such diseases. One could ascertain that with the slow destruction of their peoples and the slow integration into being the subjects and workers of the Europeans that the Indians might have lost the will to live. The Aztec population as Sherburne F Cook and Woodrow Burrow estimates a decrease from 25 million on the eve of conquest in 1519 to 16.8 million a decade later⁸. Despite the de-connection that is seen with statistics, anthropologically this decline is enough to see a whole civilization destroyed, as Motolinia an early 16th century chronicler highlighted, "many died of starvation, because they were all taken sick at once, they could not care for each other", the Mexican leaders died in quick succession, Montezuma and his successor Cuitlahuac, diluting the balance of power and breaking the chain of command. The Aztec city of Tenochtitlan was sieged in 75 days by Cortes and his few thousand troops, against a general population of roughly 200,000-300,000 before conquest suggested by Crosby, his veracity strengthened by William H McNeill⁹. Only further highlights that the sheer loss of human health allowed a great city to be conquered by a tiny invading force . This complex civilization desecrated in a matter of years, certainly qualifies as cataclysmic, thus assenting Porter's claim was not an exaggeration. Furthermore, the Incan empire suffered a similar fate, the epidemics that ravaged rattled the very foundation of their political structure. The government of the Incan empire was an absolute autocracy with a demi-god, the child of sun, as it emperor. Huanya Capac "beloved by all his vassals" as Pizarro remarked, died of smallpox followed by his son and heir Nian Cuyoche, called into question the allegiance and sovereignty of their god.

What does this mean for us today? A now marginalised racial and cultural group that have little power or control in its sovereign country, whether that's Mexico, USA or Argentina. The majority of inhabitants aren't of domestic heritage, Hernada De Soto had landed in 1539 in the South of America, the conquistador noted that the land was "thickly settled with large towns", De Soto later died of fever in 1542. More than a century later the French aristocrat, La Selle, toured the same area, down the Mississippi River in 1970, and noted to have not seen anyone¹⁰. the accurateness in his claim would not be completely reliable but safe to assume that the area went through a profound depopulation. A lot of land and not enough people to work it thus prompting another significant cataclysm for human health; the slave trade. Approximately 12.5 million Africans embarked on the journey, with 10.7 million landing in the Americas¹¹, this highlights both the high amount of migration of people as slaves and an acknowledgement of the amount of deaths incurred on the journey, records indicating that almost 20 percent died on the journey, let alone the rough conditions that they live through once in America, further strengthening the Porters sentiment.

Drugs and addiction have passed between nations, Tobacco whose popularity spread by Jean Nicot de Villeman and was made as a State Monopoly of Great Britain by Charles I¹², is now a multinational industry. It is undeniably harmful for world human health, the substance containing carcinogens instead of medicinal properties. The World Health Organisation decreed it to be the single most avoidable cause of death worldwide, yet is still increasing in popularity in developing countries, China's per capita cigarette consumption has increased by 50 percent between 1992 and 1996¹³. Similarly, seen with Coca traditionally a religious and sanctified practice by the Incan high society, has become an illicit and dangerous worldwide drug, cocaine.

In conclusion, Roy Porter makes an accurate assessment on the detrimental actions caused by the Columbus's landfall on Hispaniola. He opened the doors to the migration of man from the Eurasia and Africa to the Americas. This in turn brought conquest and destruction to the isolated and unique cultures across both North and South America. However, if you could possibly look beyond the detriments solely to the New World, good can be ascertained from the exchange for world health. The passing of food, medicine, quinine used to treat malaria, technology and education can all be seen as positives for human health. Nevertheless, if we look clearly at the direct impact to the native and indigenous, the terrible loss of life of 80-90% of the indigenous populations are equated to the exchange. The Americas continued isolation would have protected much that was lost, however in an increasingly communicative world, a lasting isolation from the maladies and destruction associated with the history of the Old World, could never have been plausible. By products of the exchange remain prevalent, with the passing of foods and resources comes the desirable and profitable, tobacco, cocaine, sugar; thus, prompting additional woes of human health. The slave trade exacerbated the cataclysm to human health and has incurred a destructive relationship between racisms and equity; the historical significance of the white man domineering on the indigenous and African populations, remain prevalent and incalculable today. Whether Porters assessment is an exaggeration must be looked at with nuance and hindsight, there is both positive and negative attributes of the Columbian exchange. Crosby concluded his book pessimistically by stressing the ecological detriments as the most seminal, "the Columbian exchange has left us with not a richer but a more impoverished genetic pool, we, all of the life on this planet are less for Columbus, and the impoverishment will increase"¹⁴.