Ooh check out the sculpture. It has real human feet attached.
Back home tomorrow. I like it there.
Day 1256 – 1st September 2010
Lots of people in town today – the mayor died quite suddenly the other day and there were cars parked all over the place for the funeral.
It’s a stormy, stormy night too – I like the rain though, helps me get to sleep. I’m sure you wanted to know that.
Day 1255 – 31st August 2010
Spent most of the day working in a bar with a good internet connection – makes such a huge difference not to have to think about what you click on, and whatever you do click on taking less than five minutes to load. As a result, I got about three days work done in five hours.
That was nice. That was about it for today though. Sorry. Oh yeah, look what they carved into the hill this year – I don’t know what it is either. I think it’s something to do with whiplash.
Day 1254 – 30th August 2010
This place in perched on top of a mountain in Spain – I think I might have mentioned it before. I have no idea what it is, or how to get to it, even from Google earth you can’t quite see. Believe me I’ve looked.
What does it look like to you? A hotel? Army barracks? A prison? It’s killing me.
Day 1253 – 29th August 2010
The paragliders were like a silent swarm today, at one point I counted 15 in the air. I like them a lot though, and they have been the subject of picture of the day for years now – in fact, this picture was almost inevitable.
Everybody in the house is still ill to varying degrees which, as Wordsworth famously said, makes life ‘fucking miserable’.
Day 1252 – 28th August 2010
Guess what we had for dinner?
Only joking, it was pancakes.
Chicken pancakes.
Day 1251 – 27th August 2010
Everyone’s a bit under the weather, which means it can only be holiday season. It’s ten to ten and everyone’s looking to get to bed. Wild times.
The internet is back, not for good but hopefully for long enough – it’s nice to be wired into the tubes every once in a while.
Day 1250 – 26th August 2010
It got to 42 degrees C in town today. For those used to Fs instead of Cs, that’s 16,951 F. We’re all still recovering from that.
The internet won’t work now because the lady in the shop cocked up on several fronts which I won’t go into, but it could be a while before it’s working so once again I’m typing into the darkness with no one possibly able to listen. If you are reading this and it’s still the 26th August then you’re either in a mad time zone or you might want to change your calendar.
Day 1249 – 25th August 2010
It’s another variation on the same view from my window – looks a bit rubbish but I’m too hot and pestered to get anything else.
Might do something magical tomorrow. Might not. There’s excitement for you.
Day 1248 – 24th August 2010
Well, turns out I got online sooner than I thought, although it took all day for me to get the bloody thing working – this is a picture of a fraction of the shit you have to wade through to get there. Anyhow, here I am, staring down the tubes of the internet in the middle of nowhere. Still impresses me. Especially when it works.
Watched Pulp Fiction – always takes the edge of temperamental webshit. My brother’s review: “good but not that good.” Each to his own? Bollocks each to his own there’s not a wasted frame in the whole film, I’m sure he’ll regret it when we’ve seen it 15 times because it’s the only DVD we’ve got here.
Day 1247 – 23rd August 2010
Got to the Pyrenees in one piece – can’t see the top of the mountains here but it’s sunny now. Honest.
No internet though so who knows when you’ll read this.
Day 1246 – 22nd August 2010
I like the moon. I also like the Pyrenees, which is where we’re off to tomorrow. Bow down to the king of segues.
Day 1245 – 21st August 2010
Marseille. A place I’m fond of despite the extreme violence.
I’ve got a headache so bad I feel like my head is about to prize itself apart, so I won’t talk.
Day 1244 – 20th August 2010
Put your finger over the flash and bingo, you’ve got yourself a picture of the day.
It’s so hot and muggy this evening I can barely think. I feel like an Ambassador to an African country who doesn’t quite fit in, looks constantly glazed with sweat, keeps wanting to go back to London, but pushes through anyway. If I had a horsehair fly swatter the picture would be complete.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
