… having ended up in my own bed last night at long last, I was out like a light.

And for at least an hour too, before I was wide awake again.

But that was plenty of time for me to go on a nocturnal ramble – and a mega-one at at that. but I’m not going to tell you about it right now, because it was so interesting that I went and fetched the dictaphone and dictated it right on the spot, at some silly hour of the morning.

So you’ll have to wait until I’ve transcribed my notes, whenever that might be.

But never mind. back to sleep again, and I was off on my travels again. it seems that I can’t keep still right now.

I was off around the North-Eastern USA, in circumstances and places where I have been on nocturnal voyages before and on several occasions too. And I met a group of people, amongst whom was this lady. We were discussing things that we had in common and as I was leaving, she added that there was something else – “sex” to be precise. And she went on telling me how she was living in a mobile home in her garden as her house was undergoing renovation, and not only gave me the address but also the directions. And of course I had no intention whatever of involving myself with anyone in that respect.
Instead, I ended up in the very American area of Wells Green near Crewe. Several of my current and former friends were by now in the picture and we had all arranged to go swimming together. It was my idea but I hadn’t thought about my chemo port in my chest. But I suppose I had better show willing. I was living in a layby by the old signal box at Gresty in a caravanette, the type that had a couple of pods that pop out at the sides, and they were out right now, and I couldn’t close them. But anyway, I ended up in the pool, and ended up on my own too as no-one else came to join me. And when I left the pool, I realised that I had left my clothing with my ex-friend from Stoke on Trent and he wasn’t here of course, so I had to wander around in my swimming trunks and a tee-shirt.

Just for a change in midweek, there was no alarm. Like I’m going to crawl out of bed at 06:20 in the morning after all of my efforts yesterday. 09:00 is much more like it, isn’t it?

And like any other good Day of Rest, that’s exactly what happened. I did nothing at all really. Didn’t even set foot outside.

It was a late breakfast, with one of the four half-baguettes and apricot jam that I had bought yesterday in Albert. And my first cup of coffee since leaving Liège too.

And then I began to attack the photos. Several hundred, there are, and they all need reviewing, editing and saving and that’s not the work of five minutes either.

I reckon that I have done about half of them before I began to look cross-eyed so I stopped and had a very late lunch. The other two half-baguettes, some hummus and the last of the tomatoes and lettuce.

I shall have to go shopping tomorrow, won’t I? And I mustn’t forget either because it’s a Bank Holiday on Saturday. The Storming of the Bastille or something.

So with Caliburn not having been unloaded and nothing unpacked, I’ve had a quiet day. But I do need to get myself organised. Something needs to be done in the next 6 weeks, it’s urgent and I can’t ignore it.

I shall have to get a move on.

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