November. The sun was far away but so was Prague. As far as I could tell, that meant progress, even if it was only one step on the journey. But aside from feeling less safe, Brno isn't noticeably different from Prague in its general aesthetic, which detracted from the small step I tried to pass off just a moment ago. Truth be told, it was freezing and home was an over-populated and undersized van. There was insulation and a gas heater, but not much in the way of light and no safe night heating. The solar panel wasn't charging the batteries properly (I later found out why, but that article isn't ready, yet), and I was sick of cities, which is why I was still miserable.

But Brno would only be home for a week, after which, further exploration would inevitably follow. Having no rent to pay was still extremely novel and I was enjoying watching the cash mounting with every passing week, and getting excited for finally heading south to begin the next chapter in a t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting Bermuda shorts, like I'd come to learn was the current trend (I haven't owned a tv for some time, mind).

The week was a bit like Groundhog Day, in that every day was the same... well, you've got this metaphor, I'm pretty sure, so let's move past it and say no more. Each day entailed a search for a new cafe, in which, to spend several hours working on the laptop in the warm, for the cost of the fewest overpriced coffees it would be possible to get away with - at least until awkwardness was unbearable. Then another cafe for lunch, finish up work, then another place for dinner, and finally, back to the car park to sleep in the ice tomb. I say sleep. It was more like a cryogenic deep freeze. But I heard that was also becoming trendy, at least in some circles.

The last day was a bit more optimistic. I hadn't enjoyed this city at all. Byron almost got bitten by a much bigger dog, my analog tape recorder stopped working, so I wasn't able to make silly statements and then rediscover them later, anymore, and I was sick of cities already, if I haven't mentioned it, yet.

With glee, the moment came, and I started the engine and cruised out of the parking lot, onto the ring road and towards the highway. I was somewhat unsettled by the stark lack of people and cars on what appeared to be a road built for a lot of traffic. The whole city had been surprisingly quiet. It was giving me a kind of post-evacuation feeling, and I was starting to feel like that one guy who always wakes up from a coma and can't figure out why everyone left. Those stories rarely end well, and I wasn't keen to find out if I was in one.

Slightly un-nerving passing police in these situations. With so few people to hassle, it seems almost a given that they will pull you over and give you some flannel. And, of course, that's exactly what happened. But this one didn't go as expected. In fact, I was rather happier after than before. I'll explain.

You see, the reason for the stop was that my van had triggered a pull-over alert on their trouble-making system, as it appeared that I didn't have any insurance. Which, as you know, isn't super optional. Well, I say appeared. Let me rephrase it. I didn't have any insurance. But not because I'm a cheeky monkey. I'd misread my insurance document and believed my coverage was valid until December 6th (12.6), when, in actual fact, it had expired on June 12th (12.6). I had covered several hundred miles since it had expired, having been none the wiser. Frankly, I was disappointed it had taken them this long to cotton on. I mean, what had they been doing with all that tax money?

Letting it go, in order to spare their embarrassment, I listened as the gentleman in blue (or in this instance, fabulous sparkly yellow - he owned it, too) revealed to me the exciting fee I could expect to be relieved of. As my eyes watered, the gentlewoman accomplice appeared to take pity on me, understanding the genuine mistake that had been made, and after scaring the bank notes straight out of my wallet, they handed me back my passport and told me to get it sorted quickly and have a nice evening.

It took me a moment to realize they were passing up an attempt to take this week's prize extortion, and it was a gesture I deeply appreciated. Relieved and grateful, I hopped back up into the cab and began scouring the local area for a parking space. When none presented themselves, I reluctantly headed back to the one I'd just excitedly said goodbye to, as I knew where it was and that there was probably still a space. "Needs must", or whatever that saying is.

It was somewhat deflating to find myself back in Brno after coming so close to escape, and it had to happen on a Friday night, too. Needless to say, there'd be no open road until this was sorted, and that would be Monday at the earliest.

Byron spent the intermediate days taking tours of the best local poops for his mental scrap book. And when Monday came, the usual conveniences came to my aid, in order to make life easier and more enjoyable. Firstly, the insurance company doubled the price of my policy, with the answer to my question("why has the price gone up so much?") being "because the price has gone up". Knowing I was cornered, I began bending over to get my bank card from my back pocket (child-friendly, see?) and it declined. Why? Why not?

The second convenience came into play right around that time, when the bank code failed to arrive in order to log into the account and see why the payment failed. That's thanks to the third convenience, being the phone company's decision to cut my service, just because I hadn't used the phone in a year. Honestly, they sell you this and they sell you that line, and what's it all good for?

Long story slightly shorter: Tough crap. Pay up. And after it was over, and I'd put some of that ice from the bed on my backside (to sooth the wallet burns...), I once again turned the key and headed for anywhere else.

As it turned out, the next place was the somewhat more attractive Ruda Nad Moravou, and the only thing I can say about that, aside from it being picturesque and peaceful, is that I pulled half the gutter off the roof on the way out when my solar panel caught it unawares.

Priceless.

My retro tape recorder was keeping me going.