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like Lord Lucan/Richey Edwards/Jeff Buckley?
I'm not sure I could.
Great content, mate
who couldn't? just walk into some woods. job done.
just keep going depending on how thorough you want to be.
no urge to do so now but yes, absolutely could do it.
and I do get this urge. Sometimes at night I consider walking along the Thames until morning and starting a new life in whatever small town I'm in by sunrise.
Run out of my office, buy a backpack and some clothes that aren't my work clothes. Go into the bank and withdraw as much money as I can. Ditch wallet/phone/all possessions. Go to bus station and get a bus as far West as I can, try and find that teepee village somewhere in Camarthenshire. Of course, they'd know I was there, but that's as close as I can willingly get probs. I'll do it in a mo.
but is interesting all the same:
and access to offshore funds, so on that basis, I am not answering this question.
I'd take all the money in my house and any valuables that are small enough to carry, write an "I'm sorry, I'll be in touch. Don't worry!" note or something. put on a decent disguise (would steal some blonde hairdye to use when I get the chance). Then I'd head to troon to get the ferry to Ireland. probably couldn't afford a fake passport so i'd have to just work in a pub in some wee town over the border.
do they have sniffer dogs?
I'd find some woods somewhere and do all that survivalist stuff.
First I'd buy and read this though http://www.amazon.co.uk/Outdoor-Survival-Handbook-Resources-Navigation/dp/0091878861/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1401887856&sr=8-6&keywords=survival+book
this would be a doddle.
I would be able to get my hands on a fake passport for next to nothing, and then make my way up through Africa, bribing officials as I go (provided I have stock piled cash and or other valuables to 'barter' off) Loads of risks as in possible death, but it could be done.
I'd bloody love too, though. Only if I can take my cat, like.
Get a flight to America - Texas to be exact. Ditch passport and other identifiable belongings upon arrival.
One day go for a walk or cycle into some rural area. Spend a little while living as a hobo in a tent in the woods then find some cash-in-hand job working at an isolated ranch, run by a reclusive married couple. You fall in love with the ranch owner's wife, then her husband mysteriously "dies" a week later. You take his identity (body is buried in an unmarked grave in the desert, or even better, cremated). You live the rest of your days together running an idyllic ranch, rearing horses and cattle. You have children together, you name once Trace, for the giggles. Trace never knows why.