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During my travels, my compensation for free accommodation for one night, was for me to write a daily travel diary. Of how I got to my next location, the people who would host me, the food I was offered and everything else. Below you find the archives of the highly extensive reports. Know that English is not my native language and most reports were written at high speed around midnight. Enjoy.

Friday, 27 July 2001
--> Stockton-On-Tees (UK) - to dentist again...

My third day in Stockton-on-Tees, what kept me here?

Well, the story is simple. As I woke up today, I was insensate by the painkillers. I never knew a filling replacement could cause this amount of pain.

I planned to go back to my travelling again. And Ian boss lives pretty close to my next destination in Snaith. So as Ian was off to work, Tonie offered me to take me to Ian’s office, have a lunch and head off to the south with Ian’s boss.

And everything was going fine. Until that lunch in this crowded factory kitchen, around noon. I just could not eat anything. Even eating bits of salad hurt as it came between my teeth and put pressure on that one tooth. This was not right.

I asked Ian if he could give a call to the dentist again and ask him if this was normal. Because for my knowledge, it was not.

So he made the phone call at his office and it came out that I’d better come back again today. Something had to be wrong…

So as Ian’s boss returned home without me, I was sitting in the car with Ian, driving back to the dentistry.

When Ian called the dentistry at his office, the lady on the other side, told him she wasn’t really pleased with what I wrote about their place in last Wednesday’s report.

I was surprised, because neither Ian or I had told them about my travel around the world project. They already knew about this project before got there.

But I was pretty right about the unpleasant looking outside of the dentistry. It could easy have been a Belfast police station, with the metal bars on the windows… I am just honest.

And of course the misunderstanding about Ian, who waited for me in the waiting room, all 90 minutes I was in there. I did not mean to say anything about the waiting itself; that’s normal at a dentist. I meant to state how nice it was of him, just hours after I met him, to take me to the dentist and stick with me all time.

As I arrived at the reception, nothing happened. No bad looks or strange faces (which I had expected), but only another wait…

And another dentist helped me out this time and he was very careful and sympathetic.

It seemed that the previously removed crashed filling already had crater in the tooth, which really distressed the nerve below.

I got two options: remove the tooth or remove the nerve.

Of course, remove the nerve, I don’t want to loose a tooth because of an irritated nerve, be serious!

So he numbed me again with his lovely needle (not!) and tried to get to reach the nerve after removing the latest fillings. But it still was too sensitive. He anaesthetised it for the second time and tried it again.

Nothing. Because of the abscess of the infected nerve was still there, nothing could numb it good. The nerve was killed anyway and the dentist decided to lock it all up again with a temporary filling.

As antibiotics would remove the abscess, I need to find myself another dentist within two weeks. Otherwise the dead nerve would start to rot inside…

This second visit to the dentist was free, which was really friendly of him. I only needed to get the antibiotics and some extra painkillers, because the abscess would cause the most hurting the coming days.

As we got home, me with my numbed face again, Ian called up to my next hostess to tell her I would not make it today either.

I laid down on the bed and slept over three hours. Pain is killing!

But the painkillers worked pretty good. As long as I don’t feel anything I was able to eat again.

This night was a big night for the United Kingdom. It was the final, 64th day, of the life-capturing tv-series Big Brother (UK-version).

Imagine over 10 million people hooked onto their television this night, witnessing Dean to be evicted and leaving two persons behind in the house, Miss "Oh my God!" Helen and Mister "Evil! Demons!" Brian.

The whole country could call certain telephone numbers to decide which one of them should be the final winner of this second series of Big Brother.

And over 7 million people made that phone call. Even Ian called for Helen. I was not really able to follow this series during my travel, but all the headlines were talking about the affair this Helen had with some Paul, but nothing happened.

I knew enough and I was supportive for Brian. Just because of Helen’s question "Does chicken meat really come from chicken?". That said enough for me.

So around 11pm almost everybody in the country watched Channel 4 and witnessed (yes!!!) Brian to come out of the house as the winner of 70,000 English Pounds.

As the concept of Big Brother came from the EndeMol Entertainment Group from the Netherlands (yes, I am proud), why didn’t they do the complete 100 days, like the Dutch do it? It’s much more fun than just 64 days.

Funny how my days without travelling around, have me write about cinema movies and television shows. It’s something different for me to.

With the best hopes for my tooth, I am getting ready to move down to Snaith tomorrow. And this time my host should really count on me.

Good night Stockton-on-Tees, for the last time!


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