At last I found it

I've been through what Stojan had called an odyssee. Whatever that is. But I do know for certain that never before in my life did I have so much trouble finding a specific place.
It all began with the unfortunate habit of Stojan permanently sucking on smelly sticks of weed. One of those sticks burned a hole in Europe's map. (I just hope that guy never wants his map returned) The hole was right in the area where the blasted city of Bielefeld was supposed to be. Burned out, as if it never existed. Odd.
So we drove in the general direction of the hole in the map. When the first street sign said "Bielefeld", Stojan dropped me at a place called "Autobahnraststaette". The most godsforsaken place I've ever been to. And - having been in the abyss - I think that says something.
It took me a while to get closer to the city. No other driver of tin transports would take me along. Then the streets signs became more irritating. Giving directions that led to nowhere. It took me days to finally make it.

But of course I got there in the end. I just did what I usually do when lost: I follow a female. It either ends in marriage or in sharing a flat somewhere in a human city. Let's see what it will be this time. Hehe.

Through France-human-land, I think.

The local human population refused to speak with me, except a young lad who explained at least Europe's map to me. Odd that he knew this guy who owns the map. Strangely enough he stopped being helpful when I asked him about the frogs. Maybe amphibians are fearsome creatures in this part of the world.
After walking on my own for a while I was being picked up by a human in a huge driving tin which he had all to himself (and hundreds of dead animals in the back). He said he was from a place called Bulgaria, bringing meat to France, and then taking other meat from France to Bulgaria. We both agreed that questioning the logic behind that was a sure route to insanity. Been there.
His name was Stojan and he had pictures painted on his skin: a lizard, a naked she-human and the heart of his mother. Holy Trolls of Trellagore! I envisioned myself coming home with that last one. Hehe. I would be the laughing stock of the tribe. And then my family would get very creative to find an exceptionally painful and humiliating way to slaughter me. And rightly so. I decided to keep my opinion to myself for once as Stojan was so friendly and useful. And the france-meat was rather delicious, too. But: not one frog to talk to. No france-humans either. We're on our way to kraut-land now.

Orc on a plane? Nope.

As she-human and I were now irreconcilably divided, I no longer saw a good reason to stay in the metropolis, as I had not the slightest clue to a way home around here.
I mean, having marital disputes is the normal state of being for me and my countless wives. But she-human and I were not even married, so why did she bother? Anyway, I was no longer wanted (ok, I might not have been wanted at all to be honest), so I was going to leave (now, that's a first).
The thing is, she wanted to help me (to get rid of me, of course) and said the quickest way of getting elsewhere was by plane. I had no idea what she meant, so she took me to Heathrow.

An evening well spent. Or maybe not.

It's me again. No guest blogger this time. In fact, I don't think she'll ever do anything remotely nice for me in the near future or ever. She-human got very angry with me. It might as well be that I won't be staying at her place for very long. I mean "Leave or else I'll kill you", that says something, doesn't it? At least it's a language that I finally understand.
Anyway, here's what made her so angry:

Of stepmothers and mirrors

Hiho!
I'm she-human. Thrakbog stays at my flat, I think he mentioned that. Don't bother asking for my name, I don't think he would allow me to blog here twice. But since he is still rather indisposed because of his Halloween adventure, he asked me to do it for him. So this is a faithful narrative of what happened last night (given that he remembered it correctly and managed to tell it to me):