… of my enforced isolation while I try to shake off this ‘flu. I’ve probably been out of my room half a dozen times at most, mainly for the bathroom and to find water.
So far I’ve been 36 hours without food because the whole back of my throat seems as if it’s on fire.
None of the foregoing has prevented me from wandering off during the night. There was something like an old abandoned gas terminal on the border somewhere in Jersey that was being offered for sale as a private mooring and was being offered for sale for £30,000 but I can’t remember anything more about it.
And later we were at a National Express turn-round spot. A coach had just come up from Abingdon with the southern part. Someone had come down from the northern part and swapped over ready to go back. We talked about a white coach that the company down south had bought. Then it came round to being in the hospital. I was in hospital and one woman asked the doctor “does it really matter what I wear if I come to visit him?”. The doctor said “to me, no but other people might find it quite disturbing if you were to wear something that would display more than it ought etc”.
Let’s see how Day Three unfolds
