Is it cos I iz famous?

I haven't written here for quite a while, but I thought I'd take this opportunity to say "Bloody hell!"
Things have gone a bit mental of late. I'm getting my 5 minutes of fame and it's nothing like I imagined it to be.
It all started with a couple of articles in local newspapers here, The Argus and The Shoreham Herald early last week.
A photographer from each of the papers came round to the house, made me do some silly poses with some of the things I brought back from the trip, asked me a few questions and got a few quotes, then a few days later I appeared in a couple of spreads. Nothing strange about that, it's what I was expecting.
The same day that I appeared in The Argus, last Wednesday, I got a call from a fella from this news agency up north telling me he was interested in my story and thought that he believed that some of the nationals might be interested in it too.
"That sounds good." I told him, and he asked me to email some pictures from the journey, which I did. This guy then rang me back 10 minutes later and said that the Telegraph had been on the phone asking him for more details, and also the Sunday Mirror had shown some interest.
It all sounded cool, although at the time I wasn't really taking it too seriously as it all sounded like gossip.
Later in the afternoon my phone rang again, this time it was BBC Southern Counties asking if I was available to come into the studio the next morning to do a proper interview live on air. I wasn't used to getting up so early - they wanted me there for 9 o'clock - but I agreed anyway.

So, Thursday morning in the car on the way to the BBC I got a text from the northerner, James, letting me know that the Telegraph had gone ahead with the story. I nipped into a newsagents and bought a copy and found myself in a nice spread on page 13. It was a weird feeling knowing that people all over the country would be able to go into their local corner shop, buy a paper, and see my ugly mug staring up at them.
I went into the BBC, sat down with a cup of cold water, and waited nervously for the nice lady to take me through to the studio. As I waited, the phone rang again. It was the BBC!
Radio 5 Live to be precise. They'd just read about me in the papers and wondered if I'd be available for a little chat on air later in the day.
How did they get my number?
The lady came to take me through and I saw that she had a Telegraph on her desk and asked if she'd seen the article.
"Oh yes" she said, "and it's not just in here. You're in a few of the papers today."
"What?"
"Yep. I saw you in a few of them. I can't remember exactly which ones, but I think one of them was the Sun."
"Blimey!" I said.
I went through to the studio, put the headphones on, had a little chat with presenter Neil Pringle - this guy reminded me so much of Alan Partridge, it was hard not to have a little giggle - then got told by the lady that Radio 5 would like me to come back in to the studio at 12.40 to record another interview.
"Have you been on the telly yet?" The lady asked me.
I laughed. "No. I don't think that'll be happening. It's not such a big story."
"I think you're wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if the telly people get in touch." She told me as I walked out the door.
On the way down to the bus stop I picked up a copy of the Sun, then got on the bus and popped in to my nan's on the way home. I'd found myself on page 10 and couldn't believe there was a picture of me in the Sun. The Sun!
As my nan made me a bacon and egg sandwich for breakfast I went up to use the toilet but was interupted by the phone ringing. It was the BBC. Again!
This time, though, not the radio but the telly. BBC News. Could I email her some photos from the journey and then go into the studio (at the same place as the radio) at 3.40 to do a live interview.
Bloody hell! This was ridiculous. The phone was ringing non stop, I couldn't even get a minute to go to the toilet or enjoy my bacon and egg sandwich. I was going on the telly.
Home I went, emailed the photos through, had a bath - well, I wouldn't wanna go on the telly looking shabby, would I? - then got myself back into town for the Radio 5 thing.
The interview was a lot shorter than it was meant to be because the guy before me who was talking about gardening or politics or something went on for a bit longer than he was meant to.
Anyway, I did the interview then went down to the beach to sit in the sun a bit before going back in to the BBC later to do the telly thing.
They hooked me up with the earpiece and mic, put the big picture of the Pavilion in the background, and I waited to be put through. Unfortunately, the link went down as they tried to come to me, and after I waited 20 minutes for the same thing to happen again I decided I didn't want to hang around any longer so I gave the telly thing a miss.

I went out for a few drinks and something to eat with friends in the city centre, then went home in the evening feeling tired and a bit sick.
When I got in I found a note from my next door neighbour with the telephone number of a woman's magazine who wanted to talk to me about my story, as well as an email that had been sent to my dad with the number of someone at the Sunday Times who wanted to talk to me.
I went to bed with a hot chocolate and my Big Train dvd and just tried to unwind.

The next day, Friday, and things hadn't slowed down.
I'd had an email from Meridian TV (the regional ITV channel for the south), as well as an email from TalkSport radio wanting to get me on air later in the afternoon.
I arranged with Meridian for them to come round with the cameras this Tuesday to get a piece about me for the news. They also want to talk to my mum. If she says anything to embarrass me I'll kill her. Only joking.
Then I had a little chat live on TalkSport radio. After coming off the phone to them, they called me straight back to let me know that a Spurs fan called Bonzo had contacted them and wanted to donate £200 to get me nearer to the £2000 mark.
I gave him a bell and let him know how to go about making a sponsorship, and he told me that us Yids have to stick together. Great stuff.

So, that's been the last few days of my life.
The most hilarious thing to come from all of this is some of the different articles I find about myself if I google my name. I've found myself written about in English, Romanian, Spanish, Croatian, Hungarian, Dutch, Vietnamese, Chinese, Albanian, Turkish. A lot of the articles even have pictures of me. One of the Romanian articles has used a picture of me taken on holiday last year in Bosnia, a time when I'd dyed my hair yellow for a laugh. Not the best picture ever, but still better than the one of me drunk that their compatriots used earlier in the trip :-)

Anyway, I'm not complaining about any of this. The publicity is great and it's already brought in an extra £235 in donations.
Big thanks to Bonzo, Fi, Tim, and Lisa for those.

You can still make a sponsorship by clicking here. All donations go directly to Cancer Research UK.

What else have I been doing since I got home?
Well, I've been putting some time into writing the book that will hopefully bring my adventures to a wide audience. I've also started trying to teach myself Romanian with the help of some books I bought on Ebay. And today I finally started looking for a job to give me something to do every day and to earn myself a bit of cash.

I'll post you some of the funny foreign links in a little while.
Hope you're all well, and nice to see you again....