Hitchhiking across Europe

Prologue:

The door shuts behind him. Suddenly he feels horribly small, insignificant. Ironic how fear of the unknown subconsciously rips away at the seams of a well bread businessman. Not at all the man of steel who is used to slaving away at HSBC, daring dangerous plays on the FTSE 500, taming Wall Street to succumb to his every whim.

At least Wall Street he could predict...

Nikos has lined up the limo nicely along the front porch, passenger door open.

"Efxaristo Nikos", he thanks his Greek driver. "Mr Marks, we will all miss you", Nikos glances back in the rear view mirror, "and we pray that God above will watch over you, wherever you might be".
"Thank you Nikos. Who knows, I might just have to return to keep the peace between you and Ms Bailey."

Nikos grins while lifting his head in disdain, a true Greek sentiment of denial. He pulls the car away slowly on the loose gravel just as his employer prefers and heads towards the northern gates, down the lane of Aspen trees standing like sentinels, sparking nostalgia which Nikos' passenger can do without - he helped his farther plant those trees, each of them in memory of family members they had lost...he had lost. His favourite had always been the one planted in memory of his mother, standing taller from the rest, reuniting heaven and earth. He always felt some solace in its shade - close to it, close to her.

The limo rears passed the trees toward the big arch gateway. Approaching the end of the lane, two fresh holes lie and await their new residents, dug two days ago. He tears his glance away from the side road and casts his focus on the road ahead, toward his uncharted journey. This will be the last time he will ever exit the gates of Sharlebourogh Estate.

Grayson closes his eyes...'I'm sorry Nikos, I hope you will understand'.

Three hours later, Grayson stood at the door of the airplane. Not used to economy, he asked for the exit row seat, at least to allow him the pseudo comfort of first class. Brushing passed the hoards of people he finally reaches his window seat. Nestling in as best he can, he turns to page one of his latest read with a skewed smile on his lips....Around The World In 80 Days.


CHAPTER 1:

Four hours into the flight, Grayson started to appreciate how there is something to be said for flying first class. Never mind the limited comfort, the aisle next to him is becoming increasingly busy with patrons walking up and down frequenting the lavatories. Looking to get some sleep, Grayson searched for the button to recline the chair, quickly realising that exit row seats are functional rather than comfortable.,,wip