I began my journey outside the Chaucer Building on Goldsmith Street intending to make a journey based on the rules of following the directions; right, right, left continuously. This journey would last for exactly one hour with the destination unknown. I have therefore spent this one hour of my life making a seemingly pointless and random journey however exploring Nottingham in a way I have never done before and recording what I experienced. Outside the Chaucer Building I turn right heading up Goldsmith Street. I soon turn right onto Chaucer Street, there’s an ice cream van up ahead and I hope I will pass by it before turning left. 13.02 stop to buy ice cream! Reach the end of Chaucer Street and find myself on Clarendon Street. Soon I turn right again onto Talbot Street. This road is familiar to me; however I’m heading upward out of the city centre. I stop for a moment, finding it difficult to write, walk and eat an ice cream all at the same time! The area feels different to where I have just been, from Goldsmith street populated with masses of passing students, here I see the occasional office worker perhaps stepping out into the sunshine for a tea break. One young man in a suit eats a burger while talking on his telephone; two women stand chatting smoking cigarettes. Further up the road I pass by a lamp post decorated in dead flowers, I wonder for a second what terrible accident might have taken place. Walking along this road for awhile I feel like I am getting slightly out of town. The traffic – both vehicles and pedestrians is quiet. I’m by an old run down building, my surroundings still feel vaguely familiar. I follow the street around taking the first turning right all of a sudden I find myself entering a cemetery. The atmosphere has changed quite considerably in that one turn. I feel out of place, as if I’m tress passing. It is really quiet and peaceful, there is no traffic only the faint echo of police sirens in the background reminding me that I am still in the city. I find myself wandering around the graveyard for quite a long time, still following my right, right, left rule along the paths. I come to a dead end, the path finishes leading to a small gravestone: N L Buckley, 15th February 1919. Died at the age of 20, the same age I am now. Turn around and continue it feels like I will never leave the cemetery like there is no end, perhaps I’m going in circles! 13.30 finally I leave the cemetery, ironically through the same entrance I came in. Turn right suddenly I’m back onto a busy road away from the peace and quiet. Follow Alfreton Road around. The view is now unfamiliar, I’m on a hill and in the distance I can see some sort of countryside. However before I can follow the route further a have to turn right onto a small alleyway and then left again onto a small, odd, quiet backstreet road. After finding myself going down a few of these streets I am back on a busy road. Right again, across the traffic lights I end up in Portland Road. This is the street I will be living in next year, but I have never walk this way before and always wondered what was at the end of the road. I feel out of the city again as I wonder through quiet streets full of houses. See a building with the bold letters MOGG, curious what it could be, perhaps a café, or a pub? I turn right before I can find out. A couple of students are playing football on the road. I pass by a familiar building, I remember going to a party there once. There is a pink pram in the middle of the street, feels like the only sign of life. Suddenly I’m on Portland Road again, I can see the tram passing by right at the bottom of the street. A man hidden in his car shouts out to me ‘Are you lost?’ I realise I must look a little strange. Quickly reply no and hurry along. I am by the graveyard again but on the other side. Walking up Cromwell Street, my legs are tired, the hill seems steep. I notice a house painted purple on the other side of the road, it is the only one in the street. I would like the live in a purple house. I also notice a pub at the end of the street. The pub garden overlooks the graveyard. I’m back on a busy road again. It looks familiar, I cross over. Alfreton Road. The same view from the top of the hill. But before I reach it again I have to turn right down the same side street I did before and then left again. I realise the journey will now repeat itself and I really am going in circles, this journey will actually go no further. 13.56 I continue anyway down the now familiar streets. 14.00 I end my journey on Stoneleigh Street. It’s quiet and peaceful, I can see the peaks of two churches from where I’m standing and again the faint sounds of police sirens in the background.