It's done

Before posting, let me just thank Bill, Jari, my good friend from many years ago Canadian Kim, and also Mrs. Jesteadt for the latest sponsorships. Much appreciated.
Just because I've completed the challenge doesn't mean that the sponsorships need dry up. If anything, now that the original sceptics (you know who you are) have seen that I'm not one who should be doubted and that I finish what I set out to, it would be the traditional thing to make your donations on completion of the challenge.
Every penny goes directly into the coffers of Cancer Research UK, an extremely good cause. Click here and give whatever small amount you can spare.

I can't quite take it in yet, but it's all over and I'm home in sunny Brighton.
I actually woke up twice during the early hours of this morning and wondered where I was, which country I was in, whose room I was in. Then when I looked around and saw the pictures on the wall, the telly in the corner, the bottle of Dr. pepper next to the bed, for a split second I thought I was dreaming. Seriously.
It could have something to do with the fact that I was quite pissed after sitting in the living-room of my mate Russell's newly bought house and getting through a crate of Carlsberg with him, but I think it's just the shock to the system of not being a guest in someone's place anymore.

Of all the cities, towns, and villages I visited during the course of the journey, Athens was without doubt the perfect location to have as a final destination.
The weather was unreal - on my first full day there the temperature reached 30 degrees!
Not just the weather, but the way of life, the surroundings, the food, and above all else the people. After 5 and a half months on the road, at a time when my body was (and still is) feeling run-down and in need of some proper rest and relaxation, Athens provided the perfect setting.

I stayed in a student dorm on a complex that was originally built to house the journalists covering the Olympic Games of 2004.
I don't know about student dorm, it looked more like and had the feel of a holiday resort, the kind favoured by package-holiday brigades from Essex.
Block after block of white buildings with balconies for sitting out on and enjoying (or in my case, burning in) the sun.
The residents all congregate in the cafeteria building for their 3 daily meals - which just like the accomodation is provided free by the government. There are tennis courts, a basketball court, table-tennis rooms, and a whole host of other activities on offer.
I also learned that the police are forbidden from entering the complex, even if they know that there's a suspect hiding inside, or if they're chasing someone.
This strange law came about as a result of the Athens Polytechnic uprising of 1973 when the city's students demonstrated against the military government that was in place at the time.

Over the 3 days I spent in the city, I was basically mothered by 4 Greek women! :-)
Officially, I was staying with Voula, but if you met me there and were asked who my actual host was, you'd only be able to guess, as they all fussed over me like I was a friend they hadn't seen in years.
I was taken to a traditional taverna to experience the foods, drinks, and atmosphere of the locals.
I had a tour of the city on the back of a scooter. That was one of the coolest experiences of the whole trip.
I was shown all different sides of the city on 2 different days, as well as being taught loads of stuff about the city's recent history.
But the most enjoyable aspect of my time in Athens was just being 1 of 5 24-year olds, just chilling out and being made to feel so welcome and at home. The sense of humour of these girls was second to none, they definitely don't take themselves too seriously and they could take the piss out of me like the best of 'em.
So, thanks to Voula, Nikoleta, Natassa, and Vaso for giving me such amazing memories from Greece.

I left the baking sun of Athens and flew to Heathrow yesterday afternoon, thanks to my uncle Michael's buying me a ticket. The flight was something that I've never experienced before.
Not the flying! I mean the type of plane.
Until yesterday, although having flown loads of times over the past few years, I'd only ever been on the little planes of Easyjet, Ryanair, Adria Airways, SAS, etc...
Imagine the look on my face, then, when I walked onto the plane yesterday afternoon and saw that I was on one of the big kind I've only seen in American films. The kind that rather than just having an aisle down the middle, dividing the 2 seats on either side, also had a row of 4 seats in the middle. So each row had 8 seats!
When seeing this amount of seats, I felt lucky to still have been given a window position, even if it was right on the wing.
I watched a film on the screen on the back of the seat in front of me, had a hot meal served to me by an extremely attractive Greek hostess, had a sleep on the chair that reclined so far back it almost became a bed, and watched as the screen in the middle of the plane provided maps and charted the plane's course.
After the hard times I'd been through on the journey (not to say it was all tough times, of course), I felt that this was my reward. A comfortable travelling experience.

I got in to Heathrow at 3.30 and was on the bus heading for Brighton an hour later.
As soon as we entered the surroundings of the city and the old familiar flower bed that spells out the word 'Welcome' passed by outside the window, the cloudy weather that had met me in London passed and the early evening sun of Brighton shone brightly.
The drive down to the sea-front took me past my old college, my old work, the parks where I used to play football against all the different teams of the city, the kebab shops that have served me so many times after nights of drinking, the Brighton and Hove buses taking people home from work, all the things that I haven't set eyes on since last October.
I was met at the Bus station by mum and dad, and the short drive home along the coast road was just great.
People all over the beach, sitting around on the pebbles, enjoying the early Spring conditions, flying kites, drinking cold beers, windsurfing, paddling, chatting, messing about. The sun just above the horizon, out in the direction of northern France.
This is my home.
Over the past 5 and a half months, I've seen the beaches of Spain, Portugal, a little bit of Greece, but I tell you what, I wouldn't swap Brighton beach for any of them.
It's not even that I'm one of those people who loves living in England. I'm a Londoner, for example, but I'd never go and live in our capital again, not even if you paid me.
No. It's not that I love living in England. I just love Brighton.

The final statistics of the journey are:

Days on the road (without any money); 165
Capitals visited; 26 (3 non-EU)
Distance travelled; 9763 miles (15750 km) - Not including the final flight from Athens to London.

The path I took:
Stockholm - Oslo - Gothenburg - Copenhagen - Hamburg - Berlin
- Poznan - Warsaw - Cracow - Zilina - Klačno - Nitra - Bratislava -
Vienna - Ljubljana - Rome - Ljubljana - Belgrade - Sofia -
Bucharest - Budapest - Ljubljana - Bern - Ambérieu - Lyon -
Montpellier - Barcelona - Madrid - Cáceres - Lisbon - Madrid
- Bilbao - Bordeaux - Paris - Luxembourg - Brussels - Amsterdam
- Fulda - Dresden - Prague - Warsaw - Vilnius - Riga - Tallinn -
Helsinki - Athens

Finally, heartfelt thanks to every single person who helped me and/or supported me during the course of the journey. I hope I'll get the chance to repay some of the kindness, if not directly, then by helping others in the same way people helped me.

Brighton. Home.