Nothing beat a good inelegant landing. Flannagan found himself face first in cobblestone roads as he slowly stood up, narrowly avoiding a cyclist.
"Oi watch it, mate!"
Flannagan simply watched the cyclist continue through his day, his eyes narrowed before pulling out a case of cigarettes and lighting one before putting the rest in his pocket. Judging by how everything was laid out, he was somewhere in the 21st century; a big ballpark that he wasn't really interested in asking about. The last time he had done, they had simply stared like he was 'loony.' Shrugging off the encounter, he scratched at his face, beginning to walk down the street.
Eventually, he had found himself in Oxford. At least that was what the newspaper was telling him, a useful source of information. Unfortunately, there wasn't much mercenary work; something he had found out early on upon arriving on Earth. With a nose for alcohol, Hertz found himself wandering the streets, his hands tucked into his pockets as he passed by a couple of stores.
"Look forwards into life, not backwards...otherwise you may find your face planted into the back of a lamp-post." -Flannagan