Because of the way I have travelled over the last five years I will always fall asleep on trains if given the chance. I'm also a very deap sleeper, so you can imagine my supprise not only when the inspector managed to wake me up, but also informed me I was on the wrong train.

After being kicked of at Basingstoke without a ticket I had to make a decision. Do I go back to Brighton or continue on the path I was on? That decision was made when the next train to Bournemouth pulled in and I quickly jumped on.

As I had everything I owned on me, going to somewhere I had never been to when I had to be somewhere else did not bother me, I was used to going with the flow. So within the hour I was standing outside Bournemouth station wondering what the hell I was doing........

I have been in the UK since I lost my passport last November, before then I spent two moths in Ireland, three months surfing in Newquay and the best part of four years in Munich, Germany.

When I lost my passport last November I was extremley pissed because I didn't have fond memories of the UK and this was the last place I wanted to be.

But being a firm beliver in "everything happens for a reason" I decided to at least try to make a good thing out of what I considered a bad one.

G'day, my name is Rik and I was born in Camberley on the outskirts of London in 1980.

Two years later my family, then just consisting of my folks and I moved out to Rome, where I spent the years of my first memories pushed about the streets of one of Europes most ancient cities.

From then on we were always on the move not staying more than three years in one place before moving on.