aTLANTIC ISLANDS TRIP
MONDAY, APRIL 15: Wake at 6:55AM with the two dreams that I transcribe after I jerk off nicely, having been greatly aroused by the second dream, and having no trouble cuming without anything but my hand, going VERY quickly without teasing to a satisfactory orgasm about 7:10AM. HAD wakened about 5:30 to look out and see lights outside: we'd reached the island already and were cruising alongside it in darkness. Leave the porthole up since it won't be light here until at LEAST 7:30. Then get up at 7:15AM and dress in the 18.5 degrees of cold, even putting on a sweater, and look outside to see the dawn light beginning to make the clouds blue above the city of Funchal. Transcribe the dreams and finish this by 7:40AM, having time to archive this file and start the new file for NOTEBOKB, seeing as this file is now 98% complete, starting in NOTEBOKB, now at 7:45AM 4/15/96. Make the archive files by 7:46AM, and look out the porthole to see gray clouds still covering the hillside on which the very old-style Caribbean-look city is spread out, still lighted in the pre-dawn blueness, looking bigger than any other city we've seen so far. The Captain had been blasting away on the loudspeaker from the moment I sat down here at 7:15AM, and Bill came on about 7:35AM, welcoming us to Funchal. I'm so cold I guess I'll wear my sweater to breakfast after washing my hands to get the last of the cum off them. TODAY I should find out if Don is joining me AT ALL? If he's NOT here, there should at least be a MESSAGE from him? And then the rest of the trip will seem SOMEWHAT easier to plan ahead for. Close file now at 7:50AM. 8:30AM: At LAST, the way it SHOULD be done (except for saying that we'll be getting the city maps AFTER the tour because the Information Office isn't open now; everyone agrees that it's the AGENTS that aren't doing their jobs (having these things WAITING for us as we arrive), and I suggest it's probably because Sam Blythe hires the CHEAPEST agent---like some building owners I know!): Bill comes in and announces an all-day tour leaving at 8:45AM, stopping for lunch in a nice restaurant WITH wine, then the rest of the island, stopping at a place for ANOTHER wine tasting. GREAT! They pass out passports and embarkation passes, and for the first time I can SEE the stamps from all the places in my passport! Only Madeira is too dim to be read clearly. AND, to my great surprise, as I look out the dining room window after I shit (in the dark: BOTH bathroom-stall lights are out now!), there's the DOCK, and we're protected from the wall by HUGE lifeboat-sized and -shaped rubber balloons. WHAT A CLASS ACT! And Bill announces that TOMORROW'S landing will be at a pier also. Exchange, he starts, is 1.51 escudos per dollar. Then SEYMOUR corrects him: it's 151 escudos per dollar. I take lots of dollars along, since I have them now. We're due back at 4:30, and now I feel I need to brush my TEETH! Since everyone's on the point of leaving, I only BRUSH them, leaving the rest to later. At 8:40 the bus loads IMMEDIATELY, there IS an English-speaking guide, and I settle for the sixth row back for the best right-window seat left. Ruth talks to herself behind me, saying "I haven't decided yet, it doesn't matter." Ruth jabbers, Dick mindlessly whistles. 8:52 Bill comes on to ask if "Ian Shaw's on yet?" No! 8:56 we're OFF, Ian on LAST at 8:54AM. In town at 9:01 we stop for MAPS and Ried's Hotel is just down the street. Tony and Peter and Paul get OFF the bus. We're off again at 9:05, as she gives everyone the good map. Wind up through the town, with huge building projects where the highway bridges and tunnels are to traverse the city itself, wonderful properties overhand the vistas of the whole city, and at 9:25 we stop at a Miradoura where I take photos 18:22-24 and video until 9:35AM. GREAT east-west road done in three years. Purple trees are jacaranda: just like the PEN I'm using that day, and RATHER like THIS TYPE! Take 18:25-26 in Canico (ka-NEE-so) at 9:42AM. They export bananas, wine, fruit and flowers, and their first business is tourism. We choose our luncheon menu, but she encourages Espada, the Black Scabbard Fish, ugly, from 4000 foot depths. At 10:05 we stop in Machico until 10:40; 18:27 of town center: a GREAT little town with mountains on two sides, a smooth-rocked beach with a classy hotel tower at one end. I dash out of the bus to go into the information kiosk and pick up a map of Porto Santo and other touristic stuff, into the public john for a pee in the chlorine-smelling room, check out that the post office has LONG lines, too long to wait for, and I check a random ATM and it gives me 5000 escudos! Take many videos, lots of tourists, and end with a shot of VERY Spanish wedding cakes with Sheila and Seymour walking on ahead. Back to the bus and again climb through the countryside to stop in Portela at 11:02, changing film 18 to 19, and we're 2000 feet up, and though we're supposed to be there for "five minutes" we leave 20 minutes later at 11:22. Check out the books, but they're mainly about the FLOWERS of Madeira, not the country itself, not to mention they're $12 and $15, though people buy hats and other souvenirs. Take ending and starting shots of the flower-patch in the central turning region, emphasizing that the calla lilies are really the WEEDS in the shot: they grow EVERYWHERE: on cliff-faces, in stream-gullies, and wherever there AREN'T the cultivated terraces for plantings of various kinds. Some go into the bar, which I only use for the john (no, it's the next one), and again Tony and Dick and the Malones seem to indulge in their specialty of going AS FAR as they can AS FAST as they can, simply to get out of the way of the people? Or to be seen to be adventurous? Or to actually see what's to be seen? Ask Sonya about that enormous round room at the side of a building commanding a precipice over Machica, and she says it's planned to be a restaurant, though she doesn't know when it's to be finished. The birders are frantically glimpsing wagtails and buzzards as I'm trying to film blooming mimosa and calla-lily-weeds. Also lots of photos of Eagle Rock at the bottom of the next ravine, photos 19:6-7 of the little town of Porto Cruz. 19:9 is a custard apple on its tree, and 19:10 is said to be a Judas tree in bloom outside the restaurant we stopped at 11:57AM, called Casa de Cha do Faial, and I take a seat with Joe and Bob and Graham, since all the other tables for four are filled or lacking a pair, and it turns out to be the perfect choice: Joe (who'd been married and has two grown children, though he's probably STILL gay!) doesn't drink, so after Graham fills three glasses with the free white wine (and this is after our first tot of dry Madeira wine, VERY nice and relaxing), I fill his glass with red to taste it, observing that it has the LEAST taste of any red wine I've ever had. Graham orders the vegetarian lunch and then has BEEF when it comes around! First of all, the BREAD is fresh and soft and pillow-airy, and I'm sure EVERYONE eats ALL theirs in contrast to the awful stuff we get on the ship (though I have to admit that if it were BETTER, I'd eat MORE of it, and that wouldn't be good for the FIGURE). The vegetable soup is almost too hot to eat, wonderfully spiced (though Graham requests pepper for it), and very tasty with peas and potatoes and carrots. The fish is breaded lightly and PERHAPS overdone, because there's NO flesh-texture, only a marvelous mash of taste and flavor and seasoning that's mild yet satisfying. White potato, sweet potato, taro, and another yam-type root are in interesting contrast, one even being deep-fried, like tofu. We three almost finish the bottle of white and get almost half-way into the bottle of red, so when we're out at 1:30 we're almost STONED with pleasure, laughing at all the OTHER foreign groups: French, German, and other Spanish. Around the corner to look at the view, and encounter Pat and Vern on their way to steal a custard apple, or cherimoya, from the tree, warned off by a knock on the window, but the one she gets isn't ripe yet, the fruit waxy and unsweet to the taste. The gal in the souvenir shop is giving out tastes of three types of banana liquor, one with honey being much too sweet, but no taste of the Custard Apple Liquor, so I'm forced to pay 1000 escudos for a half-bottle, giving her a 5000 note for which she has not the correct change, so she gives me 2000 escudos and $14, which means she only charged me $6 for what should have been $6.67. Shove that into my bag, take shots through the flowers OF the flowers, and even of Mercedes' dropping off other customers. Finally get us all gathered, some buying loquats and others refusing cherimoyas from colorful local saleswomen, only to stop at 1:32 to 1:42 to photograph the willing daughter, smiling mother, and angry husband around the willow-boiling vats overlooking the valley, though probably NONE of us bought anything of willow products. Sonia tries to describe the balconies: "Well, lots of stairs; well, not many; well, fifteen minutes." So we get out at an unlikely-looking restaurant by the side of the road (HERE is where I pee, in a half-inch fluid-wet floor) and start climbing up stone stairs, getting out last because of my stop, but soon passing everybody by the time we get to the top of the stairs: Armand gasping because of his heart AND his acrophobia, Rita and Charles telling each other to take it easy and slowly, Ruth and Frieda complaining away, Ian chatting up Sonia and trying to get her to come into town tonight. Up into a damp forest, turning right at another knit-goods saleswoman, through a muddy ravine with gloomy trees on every side, and then into pine woods where I rush ahead, having seen the sign "Balcoes" I hadn't seen before, and get to the tip-end before everyone else to do a quick video panorama over the mile-deep ravine and far-distant hydroelectric plant. Great views from the upper rock of us peering off the side of the balcony down into the gorge. Back a little after the others and see Ian returning from the OTHER path, so of course I go down that way, far enough to pee alone and determine that the path isn't maintained so I can't get an unobstructed view back toward the balcony, and then turn right at the knit-woman to continue through mossy declivities, across what was once a stream (forgot to mention that this TRAIL follows one of the many miles of WATERPIPES that bring water from the north side of the island to the south side of the island), and finally back to the highway just short of where the bus is parked, which in turn is just short of the trout hatchery, which we all seem to follow backwards: from the majestically swimming foot+-long adults to the six- or seven-inch young, up concrete steps and swirling around invisible cyclones in their breeding ponds. Shiela waves to me as I change film AGAIN this day, and I'm down to the last pool to see a large trout in the process of finishing swallowing another AT LEAST HALF its size, looking to be in some difficulty, but from the four-inches protruding when I first saw him to the inch-left when I left, he probably got away with it. Then to photo the purple and white phlox, the many colors of camellias, the yellow whatevers, and other wonderful flowers and flowering trees. Leave there at 3:30, and go upward to the "Largest laurisilva area in the world" at 3:45 to the top for "cloud in lower trees" view that we demanded, for which I went quite a way off the road while Tony plastered his binox to his eyes and leaped off into the distance. Bob describes the "toboggan ride" as something off-putting and only five of us want to see it, but when we get back from that photo opportunity I see him chatting with Graham and Ian and Sonia, and I tell him to put it another way, and he DOES, so we're going, AND we're going to the TOP, since Sonia says that it's NOT OFTEN this clear this high! At 3:50 we're into the bus for the stomach-churning final seven kilometers to the top, past the "deepest" Luisa Valley, surprising a flock of HERRING GULLS at altitude, and finally getting to the 1810 meter summit at 4:05PM. Bright unclouded sun (all the clouds are below us, to every side, and rising higher as we watch), and Tony relinquishes his pinnacle to me as I climb up, and he goes down another path to describe its configuration in detail to a seemingly appreciative Glen and Andy. Great panorama and single shots, and then in to the restaurant (where Jenny paid $2.50 for a single soda) to go upstairs to what must be one of the greatest unwindowed viewpoints in the world: not a window in the john! Down to take more pictures, and finally we're all loaded back by 4:27, picking up Don on the way down, who'd wandered down taking videos, and I put that drive right up there behind Zugspitz, Gornergrat, and Zermatt. We stop at the crossroads of what had been the Grand Hotel Belmont in the last part of the 1800s for the Carrieros do Monte at 5:05PM. There's a large group of Germans all going down in bunches of three or four carriages, and then news that there were none left, but in a few minutes a truckload of runners came back, followed by a truckload of carriages, which the runners unloaded, and though they weren't sexily dressed, their youthful energy and strength were nice to look at. Sonia managed to pay off the queue-orderer, since we were paying our 1700 escudos and first Ruth and Frieda and then me and Bob took off, having to be pulled to a sliding start, then kept on course with jerks to the side to make it appear dangerous, though it never seemed to be, except halfway through, when they had to STOP us at a YIELD sign for a cross-street, and there WAS traffic, as well as a truck coming down behind us. Then they had to tug us across the road and get us started down the next hill, inquisitive dogs looking at us from higher porches, parked cars making the marks of perpetual detours around them (and THIS was where I ran up the stairs to the john and tripped on the third-top step and banged both cameras against the floor, but neither of them seemed to be damaged), and the distances BETWEEN the cars were so great there was no sense of COMMUNITY, except with the handlers, who laughed and talked between themselves, making us more objects than friends. Some of the Germans who came after us tipped them, but I just applauded and left my seat, having only 300 escudos in three coins left. That was only the half-way mark for those who wanted to go all the way down to Funchal for 2400, but no one seemed to want that: halfway for two kilometers was quite enough. Bob came down surrounded by Tanya and Olga, smiling, and then the Germans came in triplets. At last the bus arrived and we piled on at 5:50 to find that our ORIGINAL winery-tour closed at 6, so we went to one in town under an embroidery factory, and they touted all four kinds, which I tasted to no great effect, and we were out at 6:20, where she told me that La Ceta was FAR out of town, and that the Post Office was probably closed! She assured me there's a post office on Porto Santo, so I decided to take the bus to the ship to get rid of the stuff I'd accumulated. Back to the ship at 6:35, put stuff away, find no one to go with me, and leave at 6:55. Wander around town: the post office WAS closed, as was the cathedral that Ruth and Frieda praised, and I tried a "multi-bank" window but was refused; though I tried to find ANOTHER kind of window, there didn't seem to be one. There were machines that cashed foreign bills, but I figured there were risks of 1) my bill being swallowed with no exchange, 2) very poor exchange rates, and 3) nothing really to do with the money, so I stayed away from them. Didn't feel like going into a Cambio when they were around, and later, when I looked for them, there weren't any. Through an older section of town with very narrow streets and some cute young men, but didn't see very much of interest until I came to the main into-the-hills street where the umbrella-shaped Dragon Tree was, so I took that, with the purple jacaranda as a backdrop, and then was so mesmerized by a VERY handsome police officer (who did nothing as a driver chewed out another driver who didn't follow the traffic lane HE wanted to follow) that I followed him back the same way to his stationhouse, when I just decided it was TOO MUCH TROUBLE to find a place to exchange money and 1) either eat in town or 2) find a taxi for La Ceta, so I went as quickly as possible (searching in vain along Avenida do Mar for the sexy statue I'd seen a photo of in one of the Madeira books) back to the ship, returning at 8:15, and everyone was eating the buffet STEW of chicken (which wasn't bad) and potatoes (many of them terminally black) and carrots and too-little gravy, and as I dished up my bowl Olga was putting out hot gingerbread with nuts, so I took a piece of that and joined Tony and Jenny, who finished their "pud" and when I told them they didn't have to wait for me (they said they'd wait, but then very quickly left), I joined the Goodings, who were talking about cat-stories to Trudy and Pam, and I jokingly said "Thanks for an awful evening" and drank my tea (felt VERY dehydrated from the day, as Tony said HE did too) and went back to my room at 8:45, just catching the announcement (from the cook, since all the staff seemed to be off sightseeing in town!) that breakfast the next morning would be at 7AM. I go back to my cold room and undress and start to jerk off at 9:20, applying layer after layer of rubber bands until finally I got hard enough to come almost instantly, and then got one of those deep CHILLS when I was washing off my fingers from the cum and trying to get definitively to bed, and bundled up in the quilt trying NOT to catch a cold. When I finally got warm enough to stretch out, at 10:30 Graham came on the horn: "In case you missed the message, breakfast tomorrow morning is at seven o'clock. Good Night." I laughed to myself that the final two words sounded like incredulous recrimination rather than a simple signing off. My earplugs were getting terminally dirty, too, and I HOPE they soon TURN OFF this crazy air conditioning! Get to sleep, tired, soon after 10:30.
TUESDAY, APRIL 16: Jotted down a dream at 1:45AM, and then another at 5:15AM, both leaving me feeling very cold. The wakeup call comes at 6:25, I'm up at 6:40, still dark outside, though scattered lights from the streets of Porto Santo are still quite distant. At the 7AM breakfast I have tea, oatmeal, one slice of buttered toast of the six I make for the table, assuming hard-boiled eggs, but it's buckwheat (or some other form which is almost black) pancakes, so my table wastes three slices of bread, and other tables do almost as badly. Up to watch the docking from 7:30 to 8, and at 8:10, with all of us ready to go, they raise the gangway (which was impossible) from deck 3 to deck 4, having problems with the permanently attached pilot's ladder, and the Immigrations Officer demands that the sides be tied off and the comic short one rushes to do his bidding. At 8:17AM about nine officials board, leading Rita to observe: "The smaller the island, the larger the immigration group; did you notice that?" Finally the announcement comes that we can board the bus, and at 8:28 there's the general rush, confused since the door is 2/3 of the way to the REAR, so if you're in front, you WAIT to get out; I take the seat with the red stenciled "escape" message which means I have to hunch in the seat if I want an unobstructed view. We leave at 8:32, Orlando (or whatever his name) telling us that they had the MOST rain this winter in FIFTY years. NATO build and maintains the jumbo-jet airport with its 3200 meter runway, on which a jet was making noise and took off when I wasn't watching, arcing above us as the first one we've seen in days. Other jet-trails were visible in the sky above the clouds: we're back in civilization! At 8:50 we're at the Pico de Castelo stop above the Vila de Baleira, getting a little bit of sunlight on the nine kilometers of golden beaches which they legislated prohibitions of building on in 1970, except that the Hotel Porto Santo was built in 1962 and the awful German building was started in 1970 and left unfinished in 1974, its seven-story unpainted concreteness hidden thankfully behind a hill at the southern end of the beach. Also no more than two-story houses (obviously the one with a garage below and penthouses ABOVE their two stories were before 1970---or belong to legislators) nor more than three-story hotels. Change rolls from 20 to 21, though this will be the last change in a number of days. Stop from 9:25 to 9:35 in Portela, taking pictures of the windmill and the city from another aspect, and then 10 to 10:25 at Calheta, where the beach rock was mossy and the waves rushed through holes in the rock and a fishing boat outlined the island across the way, and Katie noticed the blocked off tunnel or "garage" in the cliff side at the end of the road. Though the stop was called for five minutes, no one wanted to leave their ice creams or sodas, though I just went in through the clean-looking dining room to the smelly john. Finally get everyone in the bus and stop 10:30 to 11 at the Hotel Porto Santo for the free glass of wine (and I went back to get a second) and enjoyed the tiled porches around the blue pool with regular guests parading past with towels or suntan lotion to establish their hegemony over the territory. Vern laughs at my saying I have no guilt, and says he hasn't learned that yet in his 76 years. Bob Tucker remarks on the way back to the bus: "I never HEARD of Porto Santo, and now I'm IN it." All into the bus but one, and he comes Sheila, red-faced and puffing away: she'd gone to the john and found NO one around when she got back. Vern and Pat are asking prices: $40/two persons per day, or $100,000 to buy a house and a 4000 square foot lot. Back at 11:03 at the center of town, told we have to be back at the bus at 11:30, since it's leaving at 12. Dash around to the bank and wait in line and cash $20 for 3000 escudos and a few small coins, including a 50 that I wanted to keep, and then to the Correios to find a LONG line which I interrupt to inquire "Filatelia?" and she waves me to the supervisor, who confesses she loves stamps herself, so she's WONDERFUL with me, and I don't hold up anyone else, except Ruth, who grumbled to her that she only wanted to buy two stamps for her post cards. As she'd wandered across the breakfast dining room lamenting "No more corn flakes. They don't have any more corn flakes. We'll have no more corn flakes. There's just no more corn flakes." Are there any more corn flakes, Ruth? I'm now writing in the mode of Dickens, to which I'm looking forward to getting back to. She picks off stamp after stamp, totaling up the first batch to get 1966 or something like that, then adds another approximately 1000 and comes out to 4000+. I gently suggest there's something wrong, and she finds she's added in 12xx TWICE. So she adds again and comes to 3233, which is just about perfect, though I have to give up the 50 escudo piece for some smaller coins I'd already had, though I can keep the elegant two-tone 100 escudo piece, worth just 66 cents. Finish my purchase JUST at 11:30 and dash for the bus to find it not THERE yet, and just about half of us assembled. No one I talked to went to the Columbus Museum, and Graham just took a picture of the outside of his house. Finally the guide waves to us to come to where the bus has been parked, with a new driver, at 11:38AM. We're off at 11:41, carrying all we'd left with except Bill, who had a purchase to make and then seemed to get to the jetty before us. Off the bus at 11:49 and to my cabin at 11:52, getting rid of my stuff from the LAST stop. Smell lunch on the back grille as I go upstairs to watch undocking not proceeding, using any excuse to try to get a shot of some of the sexy immigration guards, and then down at 12:10 for a gristly hamburg on an untoasted bun, but then one GREAT hot and one not-so-hot not-so-hot hot dog, one on the good remains of a hamburger with onions and cheese, the other on a doughy hotdog bun with onions and catsup and mustard. Finish at 12:35 and go up on deck to find that we're already some distance from the island, and sit in the increasing cold as we pass the pristine island with the path winding up the south cliff-face to the lighthouse that two couples used to share in 14-day shifts until it was automated in 1990, and a long sailor tacking his sailboat against the wind on what may be some round-the-world (I liked my original typo: ROUGH-the-world) quest, and I looked at the three scraggly out-islands with the middle one being just a rock, and figured I was cold by 1:05 and would NEVER see them merge to one vague outline in the southern mists. Down to start transcribing yesterday, and at 1:40 the islands were still in sight out my porthole. Went to look for Diane or Charles to play Scrabble, but hardly anyone was around. My cleaner came in while I was typing, and he changed my sheets and put NEW towels on the bed above while not taking my OLD ones. He almost left his sack of dirty clothing here again, but I motioned to him and he shrugged and took it away. And HE was the one who lay on my shoulders last night when I came back early, asking drunkenly "Horosho?" and all I could think to respond was "Ochin horosho" and get away from him. I look out onto the back deck at 2:30 and they're still there, and then at 3:15 I finish 4/15. Then transcribe the dreams from this morning, and finish this by 3:55PM. Get in for the first bit of snack: crackers with that INTENSE bleu cheese, Swiss, and American cheeses, and salami. Have a lot of that, then ask Charles if he wants to play Scrabble, which he agrees to, and I listen to Diane starting to talk politics from reading the Sunday Guardian that managed to find its way onboard, dated April 11, then adjourn to the game. I win one from him, but he finds the reading of "Gulliver's Travels" that's begun in the bar to be distracting, so Diane plays the next two games, losing both. That's over at 7PM, so I take a shower---the next to the last one of the trip!---until 7:30, picking up my scarf that I left in the Scrabble chair, finding my room is now a reasonable 24 degrees, so they must have done SOMETHING to the controls! Then back to clip my toenails, which I just saw needed doing, and trimmed my nose-hairs into the bargain. Only the beard left! Make out the LAST laundry slip for my shirt and two sets of everything else for $6, AND asked Ian if he'd change two $20 traveler's checks for Pam for me, and he said YES. Problems being solved; mud room open for us to take our stuff out before we leave. Now 7:55PM and time for dinner! Looked out to see that sunset was about half an hour away, and with the scudding low dark clouds, and the bright high wispy clouds, it might be spectacular. But dinner intervened: there were fresh, fluffy, tender buns on every table, and when we cleared away our four with five people, ANOTHER batch was put on the table! The herbed tomato soup was quite good, though a bit of sugar made it less acid, and the filet was ALMOST good: a gristly rind on mine had to be cut away, and there was an inedible nubbin at the end, and the bearnaise sauce was a bit scanty; but the carrots and string beans were underdone if anything, and the creme caramel for dessert was quite respectable: sweet and light and nicely textured. I went out before dessert to see the lowest clouds too dark for sunset and only wisps of cloud with any color, so I was either too late or too early or there was no color. Then Ian and Bill and Graham talk, and by that time it's 9:15 and totally dark. Take my stuff out of the mud room, since they're closing it tomorrow, then start reading BH to clean my teeth thoroughly, and finish to page 827 before I stop about 10:45. Get this out to finish up (my EYE is really SORE; should I see the DOCTOR?) by 10:55PM, quite ready for bed. Put out shoes to be tended; get to bed at 11PM.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17: 8:40AM: Woke once with the memory of a dream, then woke again at 6:05AM with a dream, and record notes on both. Then back to sleep and not wake until 7:45 wake-up call, watch still working, still feeling slightly tired. My eye feels somewhat better. Pee in the sink and dress hurriedly to get out to make my tea and sit at the rocking table before the rush for the oatmeal at 8AM, where I spill a bit of milk from my dish into the dish below, but when I glance back it's gone, so I've been forgiven. Rose asks everyone at the table but me if they want toast, and returns with three slices, two for Peter and one for her, so I decide only to add yogurt to my juice and pills, since I should be cutting down on these ship-size breakfasts. The sun is streaking down from dark clouds, but the weather is so balmy that the door next to my cabin is open and I can hear the sound of waves splashing as we head north at full speed. Both the Kahlmanns and I speak with pleasure of our warm cabins, WITH what seems to be air conditioning, so they could have arranged this from the start? Only a hand-written schedule on the door, with Graham scheduled at 9:30 for "What's in a Bird's Name," which I guess I'll attend. Transcribe the two dreams whose notes I took, and catch up with this by 8:45, ready to try scrubbing my shoes free from the salt WITHOUT soaking them in a bucket for a night: I'll be wanting to WEAR them for ship-watching and sunset-gazing. Finish that by 9:05 and then sort through the stuff in the two desk drawers, putting lots of stuff in its right place and filling a bag with souvenirs already gathered. At 9:30 get out to Graham's lecture on "What's in a Bird's Name," which goes till 10:25, where he describes the 1) Scientific name, such as Erythecus rubecula, the 2) "Official" name, such as European robin (recent), 3) Popular name, such as robin, 4) Local name, such as "robbie" in Scotland, 5) Folklore name, such a red-breast. Then he described Linaeus's system of Kingdoms (Animalia), Phyla (Chordata), Class (Aves)---and since there are about 9600 species, more subdivisions---Order (Passeriformes)(perching), Family (Turdidae)(robin-LIKE), Genus (Erythecus) (robin), and Species (rubecula), being defined by those which hardly ever interbreed. Then take my camera to the bridge, since I figure my cabin will be cleaned, and at 37 degrees and 15 minutes North and 13 degrees 47 minutes West, going at about 13 knots, at 10:30AM, I take photo #21:17, at 16 degrees Centigrade, opposite Seville in Spain. Sacha IS sitting IN the Captain's seat! We'll be in the 40s tomorrow and remain there until we enter the 50s in the dark for London. Back to the cabin to FINISH "Bleak House" by noon. Lunch is Shepherd's Pie and a GOOD cooked fruit salad from 12-12:45, where Diane and I chat about our work, and she charges $35 (Canadian) per hour openly. Charles says "Not today," so Diane and I play four games from 12:50 to 3:40, she winning one, I win three. Then look at some of the articles in all the papers that have been left on the table, have good cake at the snack, and continue with the papers until 5PM, when I return to get my pointer for Bob's talk from 5PM to 6:05 on Wind and Waves, talking about tides, the Beaufort scale, tsunamis, hurricanes, and typhoons. Back to my cabin to SPIT-shine (hope I get no illnesses from "eating" my shoes---but they've been washed with soap TWICE now) my shoes, and they may end up looking presentable ENOUGH for English and French dining. That took till 6:15 and then I finish this by 6:30, ready to put on my jacket and go to an upper deck to look at the beginning of the sunset. Gave the plug back to Katie and took my stuff from the mud room. I guess tomorrow I'll start packing after sorting out the last-but-one pill dispensation of the entire trip! Shit at 6:35, then, since the sun is still quite high, take out IP and finish "Enemy of the People by 7:40PM, at which time I change into my shoes, put a shirt on top of my Galapagos shirt and a jacket on top of that, and go up to see the start of what may be a nice sunset, but by 8:10 it's not even close, so I dash down to have the rather nice cheese wrapped in HOT phyllo dough appetizer, and tell Diane to order me the fish (after Katie fills my glass with my red wine), and go back to the deck to see nice rays spindling down from a passing cloud, and at one point the tops of all the clouds are pink, pulling their gray underbodies along with them in their flight through heaven, but the sun sinks behind increasing banks of clouds, so that the last horizon isn't even visible, and anyway it's gotten to be 8:30, so I dash down for the fairly bony, not-that-bad "fresh ocean perch" and underdone string beans, beets, and mashed potatoes, which Ian had put under a plate for me to keep it warm, while Bill addressed the rest of the table. Then at 9 he talks about being invited to the Captain's birthday party, where everyone has to drink the WHOLE drink, because that symbolizes drinking the ENTIRE ocean, so that when a sailor falls overboard, HE won't have to drink the entire ocean. And the third round is done WITHOUT a clink, because there's a buoy in the Channel that goes clink whenever there's an accident anywhere in the world, so that drinking to sailors WITHOUT a clink means drinking to sailors without an accident. But the second toast really puts me off: To beautiful women everywhere. So what do female sailors drink to? And gay sailors? The first, at least, was to family and friends and loved ones---which I suppose means that all those beautiful women aren't LOVED ones, only beautiful women! Ruth continues to snipe at everything Bill says, and Paul is asking whether anyone's kept track of able bodied seamen to pilot the ship if the entire Russian crew is drunk at the Captain's 40th birthday party---and yesterday was Charles's 81st birthday. I come back to the room at 9 and watch the sunset from my porthole until 9:15 and it appears that there isn't going to be any more color from it, but I wonder if I can program myself to get up for sunrise tomorrow? Bob sits across from me and apologizes for walking into my room at 11:30PM last night, thinking it was his: he looked at the bunk above with its wrappings, however, and it didn't look familiar, and then he looked down and said, "Hey, there's someone sleeping in MY bed," and then he decided he was in the wrong room. I explained that I slept with earplugs, so he didn't wake me---though I rather wondered WHAT he might have seen of my naked body in the lower bunk! Then sort out the pills for the rest of THIS part of the trip, throwing out two more containers and getting down to three, and that takes until 9:30, and catching up with this takes until 9:40PM, which is already more than an hour since I finished dinner. Don't even have the energy to take this to the end of the page: well, maybe I will: thought on the deck that this was NOT the greatest trip I ever took: there were LOTS of boring times (what WOULD I have done without Ann's Scrabble set?), and though the islands WERE interesting, there was a LOT of time spent on them. But there's only ONE trip like this, and I DID it, so I DON'T have to do it again! Worry (a bit) about possibly landing at PLYMOUTH if we're delayed going up Europe's coast! Hope NOT, or I'll have to PHONE John Googe! Bed at 9:50, rather slowly to sleep.
THURSDAY, APRIL 18: 7:48AM: Woke at 2:40 with a dream that I jotted down, then again when my watch read 6:10, except it had stopped. Get up then and transcribe both dreams. Then try to sleep but can't, so I jerk off nice and slowly, looking forward to the time when I can do it THAT teasingly WITH Tony AND Paul, each egging the other to higher passions. Can't tell how high the sun is, so I dress quickly, hoping for sunrise, but get out on the aft deck to see the sun at least 45 minutes high. Up to the bridge-deck and the man on duty has his blonde with him, I guess from the Captain's birthday party last night. Bob tells me it's 7:30AM, and we both stare out at the oil tanker passing us slowly at two o'clock, the ship that HAD passed us, moving slowly out of sight at four o'clock, and toward the end, VERY dimly, the ship on the screen that was only about five miles away became a discernible dot at three o'clock. Watch until the sun shines too brightly above the bank of clouds, and get down to the dining room to check my time at 7:45 and a group of seven or eight are gathered listening to the news: the bit I hear is about Chechnya, what a surprise! Had washed my fingers as I peed in the sink this morning, but my face still feels unwashed, probably hasn't been washed since yesterday, so now at 7:55 I'll do that and get into the fourth-last day on the ship! Counting the meals now: only TEN left, four of them breakfasts. Oatmeal and scrambled eggs (which illustrated different points of view: I thought it was a great idea to add lumps of butter to the top of the eggs to enhance the flavor of what I thought WERE eggs and not powder, but Rita comes up, takes one look, and says "Oh, look at all that GREASE" in a disapproving tone) and a pear, with juice and pills, and stare out at the tanker that passed us and then hung back on our port, almost so that we could have something to look out at. It was STILL there at noon. Then listened to Christopher Lee read Agatha Christie's "Witness for the Prosecution," and it was impossible not to see Robert Taylor and Marlene Dietrich in the leading roles, though the story was much tighter than the movie at 51 minutes. Then at 10 I commenced maintenance again, tweezing the hairs from my ears and trimming my top-beard line with the tweezers. Then I decided to watch the unwatched videos, and spaced back tape 3 to 9621, which was the start of Gomera, and then at 11:10AM took the last tape to be played until 11:45, when the battery ran out. Even though I have it on SLP, it STILL seems to be recording ONLY an hour! Brought it back to the cabin, which hasn't been made up yet, to be recharged, but decide to bring this up to date at 11:56AM first. The "daily schedule" was only an inked sheet saying "Meals and snack and happy hour as usual, 9AM Agatha Christie, 5PM Graham's Bird Summary." Graham hops up to identify the blackcap singing at the restaurant, and a swift as the bird glimpsed from the summit, flying over the deepest valley in Madeira. Lunch is billed as fettucini with spinach and tomatoes and ends up as fettucini with spinach, to which is added catsup, tomato juice, chili sauce, and probably other items I didn't observe; anyway, it was pretty plain. Dessert was yesterday's nut-cake under banana-flavored melted ice cream. Sat down to read "The Wild Duck", but got tired and lay down for a nap, in which I didn't sleep but only hassled the end of the trip. Got back on deck for awhile, and (it was the morning trip up) passed the Doctor clutching his clothes to his naked chest: I smiled and said "Good morning" and he smiled and nodded back. Saw him later at the foot of one stairway, and marveled at his smooth chest and absent hips, and again at the top of another stairway. Think he's following me? IN YOUR DREAMS! Down for snack of round raisin cookies and square sheet cookies that DID taste of fish, as Bob had said. Get a quick game finished, winning from Diane, before Graham's "Birds of the Trip," and we SAW 74 of the 274 sea-bird species, and more kinds of petrels (40) than he'd ever seen before. The garbage-dump birds were Sanderlings and the Falkland's tree birds were Tree Herons, and there IS a 400 club for those who have seen that many bird species. Then Diane and I return to Scrabble 6:05 to 7:45 and she wins the last while I win the first two, getting MANY seven-letter words. Out to watch sunset amid at least EIGHT ships on various horizons, and suddenly a fish (I guess a dolphin) leaps WAY out of the air again and again, and then a pair leap out and head for the bow of the ship. I dash down the stairs two flights to find both front doors closed, then down to deck 3 to find the steel door shut on the dining room side, but I open the two latches and race to the bow to find the ship obviously going so fast that the prow-spray races ahead of the ship, obviating any fish-movement there. Pity. Down to dinner at 8:10 and scoop out Minestrone that's more meal that soup, then the veal tenderloin is a REMARKABLY penis-shaped (to cock-head and coronal ridge) hunk of meat about 8 inches long, and I imperturbably slice through almost all of it, not eating all the three boiled potatoes or all the cauliflower and carrots, but finish the devilishly sweet pecan pie with berries and whole almonds, along with another glass of wine. "Table One" is SO disruptive during Bill's talk that Paul says "Give 'im a chance, for Pete's sake!" and I admire his outspoken quality. Still not certain who's going where, but he's actually trying to get a bus to central London for the 16 who are NOT going to Heathrow. He suggests Ealing and Ruth reacts as if he'd suggested the Gare de Lyon: "It's practically not in London!" She IS such a pain, and yet I have to talk to Frieda to get lists of places to see in southern England, possibly even THEIR place! By now I'm wishing I'd GOTTEN some word from Don! Up to the top deck at 9PM, still remarkably light, and at least eight lights ring the horizon, while enormous swells still cast their shadows rolling in from the west, or to the west as represented by a perpendicular to the direction we're going, which is sharply northeast. Stars begin to come out brightly, and though it's cold there's still a silkiness to the air that's made more attractive by the nubbled-silk quality of the water surface as it rises, dips, twists, and falls from the ship's center to the skirt-edge of the horizon with its ship-lights. Back to my room at 9:45 and finish this by 10:10PM, too tired to even brush my teeth. Got to start packing tomorrow to leave time for ship-watching as we get nearer the Channel. Barometer reads Change to Fair, and we're still making over 13 knots, even though Bill said that everything should be stashed away as the Bay of Biscayne (provoking audible hoots and jeers from Table One) can be rough, though it looks like we'll have good weather. Decide to leave my watch ON to find if it works, and bed at 10:17PM.
FRIDAY, APRIL 19: Wake at 5:30, pee, and put the porthole up to see it getting light already, and do the first COMPLETE Actualism session in quite a while, at least pulling me up from DEPRESSION to NEUTRAL. Maybe tomorrow I can get higher than that. Up at 6:30, having at least been in BED for over 8 hours, and put on sweater and jacket and get on deck about 6:40 to find that the sun is ALREADY up, though just barely behind clouds, and clearly there was no apocalyptic sunrise. Figure that I got out YESTERDAY at 7:30AM, TODAY at 6:30AM, so TOMORROW I can get up at 5:30 and be SURE to catch the rising sun, and be prepared for whatever rising time is set for SUNDAY. Get to the bridge to find we're at 45 degrees north and 7 degrees west, doing 13+ knots, with 8 ships on the 24 nautical-mile radar. Katie is up, which is quite a surprise, but figure she's stayed UP, rather than gotten out of BED early. To the top deck to sit in the LEFT chair as Dick sits in the RIGHT chair. Wouldn't it be ironic if we COULD have been good companions, yet chose to ignore each other because we were so SIMILAR? Jules comes out and talks to him, Armand comes up and talks to me, having seen a bird. Back down at 7:30 and catch up with this by 7:45, figuring to do MOST everything TODAY before the urge to make of LIST of what has to be done increases. Only seven meals left, and LESS than 48 hours, FEWER than the number of DAYS on the SHIP! WOW! Getting down to the final counts! Get out the duffel bag and put down the first layer, then brag about it at breakfast! Fill most of the second layer after talking to Sheila and being told I CAN keep her camera and send it back to them, and talked to Bill, who said he'd put out a name and address list for those who wanted it distributed. Sorting out what I want to leave behind at John's and what I'll need for the final two weeks of the trip in Europe. Real FEELING last night that FRANCE was "just out there," as Africa HAD been earlier, as well as Seville and Lisbon. Look at all the film I already TOOK, and the reels of videotape UNTAKEN because of the broken camera. Then to Bob's "Slide Summary of the Trip" from 9:30 to 10:20, where he REALLY embarrasses me by thanking everyone SO much; at least none of US will ever be as young as that (he said he's about as old as the Captain, who just turned 40). Back to the cabin to finish this, and making archives of this now-finished file, about 10:30AM, the day still FRESH for DOING things, starting in NOTEBOKC, now at 10:33AM 4/19/96. And back to packing the LAST of the duffel bag! Finish that at 10:45, then sort through the maps and information about England in preparation for the meeting after lunch with Frieda, who'll tell me where to go in southern England, to 11:15. Read "Rosmersholm" from IP, then have a vegetable-cheese pot pie for lunch, followed by melted lime ice cream. Talk to Frieda from 12:45 to 1:30, phone Diane to play Scrabble and get a MAN (who she decided had to be cleaning her room while she was on deck) speaking Russian, and on the way up to knock on her door meet the Goodings coming down, and Charles wants to play. Play him two games 1:35 to 3:20 and win both, then go to the bridge 3:30 to 4, hearing about the tug pulling the hulk on a LONG tether (known only because the distance between them is constant), about the cruise liner that used to be the Golden Goddess that passed us, and some of the others passing after yesterday's lineup of tankers and oilers. Down for "banana bread" snack with tea (secreting two mint-tea bags since I didn't have tea this morning because Olga could FIND no mint tea) at 4,and play Diane one game between 4:10 and 4:55, when we clear off for Graham in a really funny talk from 5 to 5:30, and then Bill tells me he's gotten a telex from Don Maloof, saying he has to stay another week in California so it's all off, including Paris, but by "I made all the reservations" I hope he means that he's arranged for John to rent a car and meet me at Tilbury. I guess I won't know till Tilbury, but at least NOW I know I'll be planning my OWN trip---and that I missed the 14-day minimum reservation for the reduced-fare Chunnel round trip. Then play two more games with Diane and the final score for the day is 2 for me and 1 for her. Out of the dining room at 7PM, she having to put on a dress for the Captain's dinner tonight, but I don't imagine I'll change at all. Got the laundry back, so the ONLY thing to do tomorrow is clip my beard and pack the rest of my stuff! And, undoubtedly, play Scrabble, AND look out for the passing coast of ENGLAND and FRANCE. We're supposed to pass the corner of France about 9PM tonight, and by the looks of the sun, I might be able to actually SEE the sunset tonight before dinner. IT'S ACTUALLY COMING TO AN END! Up to the bridge and see the beginnings of twinkles on the radar from the French coast, and soon after I see a series of low hills, punctuated by lighthouses, that is actually the COAST OF FRANCE! Stare and gape and marvel at actually being in sight of Europe! Lots of ships, lots of blips on the radar. Down at 7:55 to the best meal yet: GREAT roast beef au jus, good baked/boiled potatoes, and underdone green beans, with wine and tirami su dessert. Bill comes on and AGAIN summarized the trip, yet so well (and with such great memory of names!) that I almost wished I'd taped it. He's going to play his tapes tomorrow, and said that "Bob and Don might want to play theirs too." I'm starting to hope that Don made NOT ONLY auto reservations for John to pick me up at Tilbury, BUT ALSO Chunnel reservations, since he HAD the dates we had to go. HERE'S HOPING! Dinner ended at 8:45 but Bill went on until 9:20 and it's now 9:30, so I feel OK about going to bed NOW at 9:35PM.
SATURDAY, APRIL 20: Pee at 12:40AM, and wake at 4:30 and again at 5:20, and out of bed at 5:35 to dress briefly in the cold in preparation for taking my last shower aboard. Go toward the john and the guy is in the middle of cleaning it, so I come back to look out at the two ships visible in the Channel from my porthole and start this to finish at 5:42AM. Counting: four meals left, three sun-cycles of rise/set/rise, two days, essentially one twenty-four hour period. ENDING! Go shit, then to bridge with Glen already there, sun not yet up, radar screen full of blips. Check that we're coming closest to Aldernay and Guernsey in about half an hour, and after that the Channel opens up. Can't see anything except the flash from a light-buoy that must be in the MIDDLE of the Channel. When Bob comes to the screen, he counts 22 ships on the 12 nautical-mile range radar. I decide this will be my 40s shot, so I'm down to the cabin to bring up binox and camera, and at 49 degrees 51 north, 2 degrees 40 west, I take #21:18 at 6:35AM, sun obviously up by this time, though not visible until HIGH in the sky at 7AM. On that photo there are FOUR ships: one on the horizon between the two obvious ones, one about a ship's length to the right of the left one. At 7:05AM I take #21:20 of the Senicoli Sierra from Piraeus, passing as close as any ship ever has on our left, taken without telephoto with people or the ship as scale. Feet cold because I don't have my socks on, but it doesn't matter. Dick comes up later, and when I go to the lounge at 7:10 there are the Fowlers and the Goodings, Joe and Diane, and Pam was on the wing of the bridge. My cabin-cleaner was talking to the steersman through the whole time. Tonight's Captain's dinner is served buffet-style according to the menu. Now 7:31AM and I have no idea what I'll do next. Trim my beard to 8AM, get to breakfast and only BILL remarks on it. Oatmeal and two slices of french toast and a pear with grapefruit juice and tea, with a bag I brought myself, though there ARE mint-tea bags left. At 8:45 Bill tells me he wants to COPY my tape-segment of his taking the Tristanians ashore, and I get Sheila's instruction book, but her camera doesn't seem to be able to copy from another tape or from the VCR. Watch Bill's edited tape from 9-11, though he's puzzled because his tape should get THREE hours: maybe the machine is messing things up? Then back to the bridge where Charles is taking a picture of the monitor at 33 minutes west, so I get MY two cameras and take the same pictures, interrupted by the Captain wanting to see the charts: the NERVE! Back do at 11:55 to catch up with this and rewind tapes and put the battery on for a big charge for reshowing ALL the tapes after lunch. Bill SAID he'd send me a copy of his VCR only IF he gets a second player. Pasta shells and cauliflower form an awful lunch redeemed only by salt, pepper, and catsup, and only barely by buns and butter. Melted chocolate ice cream for dessert. Then I show my tapes from 12:45 to 2:30, when my battery goes out, and I grab a quick shower until 3, then find that the bridge has closed and show the rest of my films from 3 to 3:55, and Joe gives me $10 to send him the tape, and the Goodings certainly want a copy too. Bill copies at last, after many delays and camera-battery rechargings, the segment with him and Ian sending the Tristanians back to Tristan AND the sledges on Funchal. Then Diane and I play THREE games of Scrabble, in the hassle of which I lose all three. Pay the bill of $87 and change AND a tip of $350, figuring hat $7 a day is at least acceptable for the poor Russians. Sit and chat with the wonderful Rita and Joe and Ann (if the group were ALL like that, it'd be great), returning Ann the Scrabble set. Pam pays me $40 cash when she gets it, and everyone gets an evaluation sheet, which I fill out with Excellent for the hotel, Good for everything else, Fair for the accommodations, which I note is what I PAID for and I expected no more, and Poor for the food preparation, which was based on rutabaga and never so good as the roast beef last night. Free drinks devolve into free wine after 7:30, and I have MY OWN red in a glass, then two glasses of white, then my last glass of red, so I'm fairly plotzed when I notice Olga videotaping, and race to get my machine, in time to get the Captain's tearful farewell (not being able to stay for dinner, even though we're STOPPED in the Channel, 4 hours early, waiting for a pilot to take us to Tilbury by 2AM, TWO HOURS EARLY. Seymour verifies that that IS his address in the guide, I trace the four passengers who have NOT put their names in, and they were about the LAST four that I would EVER think to correspond with! Leave, drunken, about 9:50 and catch up with this at 10:05, expecting to clear things away and pack---the HELL with it; I DON'T have to leave, so I'll take my CARRYON off by myself and let them take the DUFFEL bag only. Forgot to mention being told the location on the horizon in the fog of Dover Castle, above the "White Cliffs of Dover," and seeing this LUMP with castle-top excrescences on top, and feeling that I have NOT yet seen the white cliffs of Dover. And there WAS the fog, or smog, or thin layer of brownish-yellowy-green MUCK floating about ship-stack height, about eight or ten feet thick, as if the exhausts of all ships passing through the Channel in any way at any time left a PERMANENT signature in pollution through which each successive traveler had to pass as a reminder of all who had polluted before. Then forgot to mention that IAN was only the SECOND person to remark that I'd trimmed my beard. Got into bed, hyper, at 10:27PM, but seem to have gotten to sleep quickly, because I don't remember screaming meemies THEN.
SUNDAY, APRIL 21: 4:30AM: Woke at 12:20AM with a thin gastric reflux that wasn't so bad that I had to get up for a drink of water, but it reminded me of what it was like to go to bed with too much to drink and made me thankful that I'd avoided doing it ALL the nights of the trip except the final dinner. Then woke at 3:10 with two rather horrible dreams that I took notes on because the cabin felt too cold to write in when I got up to pee. Then lay in bed, looking at my watch at 3:30 and deciding I COULD go back to sleep if we're not to be called until 4:45, but there's a Russian announcement about 3:45 that I'm glad to be AWAKE to hear, rather than being WAKENED by it, and think vaguely to do a session, but don't: think about ransacking England for a copy of the book and movie that I'd mentioned to Frieda last night as two of the five things I REALLY want to do; think about how I'll be meeting John and his wife and how helpful they'll be; thinking back about my hosting Yama with his oddities, and the mutual hosting of my three Melbourne friends and myself, and going back to NYC and finding how Spartacus has moved into his apartment, and my moving in, and Pope's health, and Sherryl's mother, and Dennis, and Don, and decide at 4:10 that I'd just as well get UP rather than being saddled with morbidities like this, probably due to the morbid nature of the dreams I'll soon record. Look out my porthole and it looks like we're stopped, then out to find Bill moving coffee things about, but giving me such a perfunctory "Good morning" that I rather think, "Hey, the party's over" in a rather paranoid way, pee again, and look out the OTHER side to find we're still MOVING, and get to my door and find that the morning air is relatively CLEAR, a relief, there are a few stars, and the lights on the slowly passing docks are bright and distinct rather than coated in smog. Maybe I'll feel better when the sun finally rises on this last day of ship noise and vibration and lack of temperature control. Now 4:50AM and Bill has just announced breakfast in half an hour, and "those who are going to the airport have their luggage outside their cabin before breakfast," which I assume does NOT include me. Feel good to have caught up with this, will keep more notes on the little pad until getting to this next, and will NOW start my final packing, noting out my porthole that we seem to have stopped AGAIN, in what looks like the same place, but there's still no abating the motor noise and vibration, which I'll REALLY be glad to be RID of! At 4:52AM the motors slack and DIE! 4:55: wash face to stop right eye-blur. 5:20 pack DESPERATELY until 5:40, when I finish oatmeal, eggs, tea, and pills. At 5:45 it's LIGHT out ALREADY. "Airport bags" go out. At 6AM the BUS goes off and the agent takes my name in case a cab comes for me at the gate. I guess I have to lug my OWN luggage! At 6:15 they DO have carts, and we're told we must go upstairs for immigration and customs. Then I figure "What the hell! RELAX! Graham's count is up to 163 species. I can't phone John before 8AM. The FINAL position is 51E27.031N, 0E21.878EAST. At 6:28 Glen and I agree: it's SURREAL how empty this all is: London after the bomb. I take photos. Wander around the open-door ship: Kahlbaums had a TUB, Samsons and Verhalens had BATHROOMS! At 6:35 I hit the "END" warning on my LAST videotape. 6:45 I learn that cars can come TO the dock at the end of the gangway. At 6:50 I phone John, wake them, and find he's been told NOTHING, but will accept my coming to them in a taxi. The port agent gives me 40p for phones. At 6:55 we phone a taxi and he'll TAKE American dollars. At 7:10 my bags are lugged OFF the gangway, waiting for the taxi. At 7:15 I'm all packed, waiting for cab on TOTALLY EMPTY pier! 7:16 the cab pulls into sight, but he has no idea where Trent Court is: he must stop at his office. Now 7:35AM, waiting for driver in his office. Also forgot to mention that I sorted through my drawer and came up with the list of "MT"-ending words and ran to ask for Ian, who comes out, smiles, and says he remembers reading a book on Logology years ago that TOLD him the three words, but he only remembers DREAMT and was hoping one of US could tell him what the OTHER two were. I made as if to throw my wine at him, but drank down another half-glass and returned to my cabin. Get to John's at 8AM. They're great to talk with till 10:30, have breakfast, and we train to Epping, taxi to a church which we view, then walk to the Green Man for a great lunch (John pays 40£ for taxi and gives me 20£, and 1£ for the book, and 3.5£ for the train ticket and 1.5£ for "other", so I owe him 66£ of which the 55£ check (and he leaves 5£ tip) is 35£theirs, which he gave back 5£ of for tip, which means I still owe him 36£. GREAT scenery in VERY pleasant walk, then walk back to Epping and get train to walk to duck-pond near Courthouse, home to talk and bed 9:45, but I'll transcribe the ACCURATE notes LATER.
MONDAY, APRIL 22: Wake at 4:20AM, pee; wake at 7:10, up at 8:30. Breakfast of meusli and juice, shit, read, stamps, organize to 9:45. Leave (in jacket) at 10AM, cross and re-cross street, and then have to cross the PLATFORM after buying 3.5£ day-pass to Victoria. On train 10:20, transfer OK, and Victoria is 13 stops. To Victoria 11AM, picking up tour info by 11:20, then 11:35-11:40 to Kensington for 11:45-5:45 Natural History Museum, tour 12-1, lunch 1:30-2:05 for 8.70£: egg salad, tomato salad, beer, and carrot cake. Bookshop to 2:20, see Art, birds, Azerbaijan oil, fossils, and creepy crawlies, ecology HUGE see/do tubes to 3:25, mammals, whales, heart-breaks and guts to 4:30, then FAST Visual, minerals, Darwin to 5:45 and "New blue Moroccan mineral." Cash in Cambio to pay 3.5 commission fee! Tube to Leister Square for lots of "other" ticket offices and pick up half-price ticket for 11.5£ for "An Inspector Calls" and try to phone John to say I won't be home for dinner, but his number's unlisted! Dine at Burger King for 3.97£ whopper with cheese and medium chocolate shake, actually pretty good. To theatre for 1.5£ program, and OK back side seat O10, and only the maid is substituted. Play goes ON from movie, inspector calling AGAIN, but though there's a good cast and action, it's not really affecting. Out about 9:35 and home about 10:15 to chat and bed about 11:20, exhausted, tour tomorrow!
TUESDAY, APRIL 23: Up early to write out dream (need interface for PWP plug!) finishing at 6:34AM, they not down YET. She's staying home and getting a refrigerator repairman, cool since Easter, and I don't start breakfast before THEY get down---must ask if THEY have an interface-plug or if I must GET one with TAPE I need to buy for video. I get up at 7 and breakfast fast and out 7:15 for 5.50 (before 9:30AM) day-pass to Victoria catching 7:25 train and transferring at 7:35; Victoria at 8:10 (talking to a couple from Commack, Long Island), talking to Texas lady in shuttle bus (waiting Oregonian tells of SENIOR theater tickets for 12£ MAX!) for 42.50£ Salisbury, which boards at 9AM, woman sitting next to me at 7th row left window, bus leaving at 9:01AM. ALL Cambios charge 3.5£ for 14-24£ transactions! To Salisbury at 10:50AM, uninspiring spire! Kids for St. George's Day, cloudy church-skies. It has biggest spire AND cloisters. To chapter house with 1 of 4 Magna Cartas: two in British Museum, one in Lincoln Cathedral. See cloisters, Magna Carta, silver, clock, tombs, and out at 11:40. Lunch at King's Arms, with a half-pint of Whitbread for 83p and three boys from Milano. Out at 12:10 to Centaur for Bishop's Tipple (good and fruit-chocolaty). Dad who gave me two sugars for my tea is CUTE in front of bus, nodding and smiling as I get on at 12:25 and bus leaves at 12:28! Stonehenge started in 2950BC with ditch two meters deep and 100 meters in diameter, with the dirt taken to mounds. 56 holes dug outside ditch. In 2600BC 80 blue stones, smaller, from South Wales put into two circles. In 2300BC (bronze age) five sarcen-stone trilithons, each stone weighting up to 50 tons, were brought from 20 miles away, erected in horseshoe shape, with smaller circles inside and single altar stone inside. Heel stone outside hates 6/21 shadow to CENTER. To Stonehenge ("Not much to see there") at 12:50, 3£ entrance fee, 48 of us, through tunnel at 12:55. Take all possible pictures: about four full and 12 close-ups, only TWO for scale and site. Buy book, and back to bus to change film at 1:25, having spent 3.95£ for good book, sadly oversized, still four people missing at 1:30. My partner reads calmly, having responded IN English: she's (painted and made-up) just shy. BURIAL mounds surround monument, "Beaker people" with bronze beakers. Leave 1:35. Pass Longleat 2 km signpost in rain. Today is St. George's Day (patron saint of Britain), and also birth of Shakespeare. Baths constructed 2000 years ago; city is in Georgian style, and is the only natural British hot springs at 46EC but now NONE are open to the public, only Royal Rheumatic Hospital patients. Out for Bath at 2:30, due back at 4PM. Enter at 2:35. Statues of Bacchus and panther. 3:30 out of baths and self-tour to Pump Room. 3:40 rooked AGAIN, getting only 40£ for $70!, having been duped by rate of 1.75 for "first column only for greater than 2000 pounds! Rain, buy book, listen to almost all tour, Abbey being redone, few pix), buy a Bath bun for 33p, hard sugar and currants on top, leaving at 4:04PM, my partner LAST. Final camcorder of city and hall. Rain and traffic on return: we STOP at 6:04PM. Off in London at 6:30, subway Glouster-Leister to find 1/2 price closed at 6:30, "Skylight" sold out, "Company" ticket at 7:15 for 12£, across to MacDonald's (not so good for quarter pounder and milkshake for 2.72£) for twenty-minute snack before 7:45 curtain of GREAT production, buying program (though some words hard to understand), in seat F25 (second from end in 5th row). Audience is CRAZY. Out at 10:35, home at 11:30 BEFORE them, shit, they come in, we talk, bed 12:25AM, saying I'll take tomorrow easy, meet them 7PM.
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 24: Wake at 7 and laze till 8, they're out, look through their art books but they have NOTHING very erotic that I can find, jerk off VERY nicely in sunlight 9:30-10, then awkward shower in awkward tub to 11, phone for Eurostar tickets for bargain 69£ Saturday noon (they can drive me?) to Saturday 4PM (getting back a day EARLY, just in case), have a banana, wash dishes, get this done sketchily, determined to STAND in Victoria and Albert to make up for laziness so far today, but it's NICE not to feel pressed. London is NOT that exciting: it's too much like NYC, and there's I guess the feeling that I can ALWAYS see IT. Place is nice to stay in, they're pleasant, and location is just as convenient/inconvenient as mine in NYC and Jean-Jacques' in Paris---you ALWAYS have to catch a train to go somewhere, and it's private and quiet when I'm there by myself, and I feel comfortable with their liking of me, so I finish this by 11:45AM; GOT to get into DAY! Leave at 12:10, miss train, on at 12:37, after apology for delay, about SIX trains passing going east. Stop in Leytonstone to 12:43, and my left GLASS LENS pops! Glasses off, off at Mile End at 12:52, train in 3 minutes. Traveling a LONG time: I should have a BOOK to read. Pass the station at 1:20, back ON, thanks to day-card) to South Kensington and to opticians: the screw is STRIPPED. Across way to "self-threading screw" at 1:35. Fix for 2£ to 1:45. Lunch on Visa for 7.5£ from 3:10-3:30: 1/4 wine, four quarter-sandwiches of chicken salad, egg salad, ham salad, and tuna salad, with apple and treacle tart. NEAT fellows inside, EXHAUSTED at the end. Leave 5:30. Last to first photos: "The Sluggard" by Lord Leighton, "Achilles Arming" by Thomas Banks, Castor and Pollux by Johan Wollekens. Photo St. Bride on Fleet Street. Samuel Smith beer, Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese at 6:20, fish and chips. Tour for 4.5£: 1) Youngs Founders Room, 2) Anchor Bankside for Exmoor Gold, hearty. Back EXHAUSTED at 11. Hainault stop is NOT a valuable alternative, since the walk is MUCH too long. Bed at 11:20.
THURSDAY, APRIL 25: Wake 6:10. Up at 6:30 to shit and piss. Talk to 9, JO 9:30 to 10, leave 10:55AM. To Embankment by 11:35, THREE trains, and seven minute wait to next train south on Northern line. LOSE my day ticket and have to buy ANOTHER one! Northern line has OLD cars. Check prices for videotape, and it goes from 5.99£ to 4.99£ when I return to first store. Write this till 12:45, then tour Science Museum for 5.50£, ALL DAY, leave at 5:20 SATED, to tubes, jammed, I'm tired, but make Rive Gauche discovery, and watch middling "Wind in the Willows" with a replacement for the Toad, the lead. Out at 10:l5, home at 11, chat to 11:50 and get to bed at 12:10AM.
FRIDAY, APRIL 26: Record dream at 6:25AM. Up at 8:40, breakfast, leave 9:55 to Kew, on train 10:03, off at Mile End at 10:20, three minutes to Richmond (Kew) train. Reading Baker's "Mezzanine." On at 10:25, out at 11:20, take 1.5 hours to return. I must leave at 3:15! Pearly jawfish! Cactus in Princess of Wales Conservatory at 12:25PM. 1:05 TINY Bowellia (frankincense) and baobab. Orangerie for lunch at 1:45: salad and ham and chicken and mushrooms for 7£ and elderberry spritzer. LOTS more to see and I'm TIRED, WEARY of LOOKING. Finish at 2:15, only one hour left. I'd gotten at 3£ senior's ticket, not 4.5£ adult fare. Pheasant passes, and there are flying swans. ABOUT to leave at 3 and decide I'd better SHIT! It's VERY warm and humid. Leave at 3:05, to station at 3:10, train at 3:25. To Loughton Station (on way to Epping) at 4:40, just before meeting time of 4:45, meeting Geraldine, who goes off to start application (though BOTH must sign) and I FINISH Baker's "Mezzanine" at 5:13PM, and WHERE is John? He arrives, mad as hell, at 5:20PM, we leave at 5:35, and the round Norman church dates from 1130AD. Lots of things to see, good dinner at a restaurant I pay for, and home at 12:20AM, bed at 12:38AM.
SATURDAY, APRIL 27: Record dream at 6:30AM. Up at 7:30 to start the London-Paris day! Breakfast at 8:30 and Jean-Jacques calls! I give him Don's number at the hotel and tell HIM to leave word for Don. Finish roughly at 9:15 EXCITED! Settle the last details: give them JJ's phone number, reconnect battery, take soap. Say "Don't change sheets," take their keys, close bag and reopen for dop kit and soap. Pack camera case, pack slippers, write this to 9:40. Out at 9:45 to give THEM space, putting the thought to them that it'll take me a real STRUGGLE to take the tube to Heathrow, and leave to see a train speed toward town. Pay 2.40£ for one-way off-time to Waterloo. Write this to 9:55, on my way to Paris! Get to Mile End at 10:12, next train in five minutes: so much for getting Eurostar an hour EARLY. Off at 10:19. To Embankment at 10:35. Northern line down. Bakerloo line in two minutes. Waterloo down to Eurostar at 10:45. Cash 14£ + 1.53£ = 16.30£ to 70 francs, about 4.4, so I guess it's OK to DO it now and SAVE time in Paris. Finish at 11AM. I took a note saying the number for Eurostar was 01233 617575, that it went from Waterloo to Paris' Gard du Nord at 11:57AM, down escalators on right 20 minutes before departure, for 69£ round trip, non-exchangeable, non-refundable. Have to know dates both ways when booking. If can't give firm dates will need to pay 77.5£ for standard single. Can pay by credit card. So I picked Saturday April 27 at 11:57AM to Saturday May 4 at 1607PM, nonsmoking. They DO check my passport, and they DO ask for my transaction number, and they're in a huge area BELOW Waterlook's main floor, but there are people EVERYWHERE: in station, at Eurostar entrance, inside Eurostar meeting area, ALL asking ME if I need help. Girl in Cambio IS helpful, commission for UNDER 15£ is 1.1£, so I put out 1.50£ and she asks for 20p MORE, but I have ONLY 3p left, so she TAKES it and gives me EVEN 70F. That's SURELY enough to get to Jean-Jacques'. Next EARLIER train was 10:23AM, bit I could NOT have changed, just as I can't change TICKET for aisle seat, but can TAKE a window IF it's free! Check-in is CLOSED 20 minutes before departure. Make a Eurostar label for my bag. Huge group of jabbering Japanese men sit near me. French kids scream in waiting area. Italians shout in tubes. 11:10AM: Put all but TICKET away from the packet. Three sheets into passport, all in shirt pocket. NO coins in change, only ONE 1£ note and 70F. I may NEED my earplugs! 11:20 some CUTE guys waiting for train. Could be any AIRPORT lounge. No BOARDING till 11:37, 17 minutes from now. 11:30 buy a NEW Ballard by Visa. Pee. Pick up new Paris map and Eurostar rate sheet. Map shows Metro's Gard du Nord to Gard de l'Est to Gobelins. Start boarding 11:35. JAM!! Escalator for ALL coaches OVER 11 (mine is 15) at exit for coach 8. FIRST CLASS cars at 8-11, luxury seats around tables for FOUR. Jammed racks at ends of car, but my small bag fits on top. The magazine is only one for seat pair, so I steal one from ahead. Sit at 11:50, announcement of departure in 7 minutes. Noon: off at 11:57 exact, move to left, front-facing seat at end of car. South thru Buxton and Herne Hill. Seats about 2/3 full. 12:30 through Sevenoaks! Shoes off---Ahh! Lambing time, many twins. NICE farms and waters. 48 seats in car, 1/2 backwards, 1/2 on aisle, 1/2 in sun. I have one of SIX "good" seats. 12:55 stop in Ashford for more passengers! My seat?? LOAD of French SCHOOLKIDS, about 7-8 years old, get on, but MY seat is STILL OK. Off at 11:58AM, maybe TWO empty seats in car. Seats do NOT recline. 1:10 change clock to 2:10PM. Twenty minutes of tunnel, in at 2:10:30PM. Ear pressure. Hey, we DON'T trundle onto a train---THIS train DOES go through on its OWN power. No lights, no signals, no blink of train lights. 2:26 slightly UPward? Ear pressure at 2:28. Slight slowing at 2:28:30. Out at 2:30:30, PRECISELY 20 minutes. Two-minute stop at Calais-Frethun at 2:33, MORE people ON, some few off. I was waved AWAY from magnetic door on ENTERING Eurostar lounge---is that ONLY immigration? 16 cars, #1-18, no 13 or 7. Leave at 2:37, four minutes. Onto TGV lines---faster? Receipt from Eurostar for the beer I order. #20 dreadful HAZE over North France, pass Orly at 3:55. Paris visible ahead in HAZE. 3:57 "We're arriving." LONG train-yards. Kids get louder. JAM to exit, stop at 4:02. 4:15 to Gare de l'Est, just miss a number 7 to Ivry. On train at 4:24 for fifteen stops, off at 4:45, to Jean-Jacques' at 4:55, unpack. Toast and Schweppes "lunch." Leave for subway at 6:40PM. Made a schedule on the BACK of my notepad: Sat 4/27 "Fidelio" (7:30) and dine at La Zimmer. Sun 4/28 Corot, Champs Elysee, Brasserie Port Royal. Mon 4/29 Disney all day. Tue 4/30 Caviar 8:30, museums closed. Wed 5/1 Holiday, museums closed, Offenbach? Paul Calls? Thu 5/2 Cinderella at 7:30, Fri 5/3 Ambroisie at 8:30, Sat 5/4 to London at 4PM. To surprisingly underdressed crowd in front of Theatre du Chatelet to wait for Don, who shows up on time, and he looks just great, praising Jean-Jacques for the way he looks. In to fifth row center seats, and the curtain doesn't rise before a wonderfully-voiced ingenue sings some kind of prologue, and EVERY soloist is excellent, particularly the villain with marvelous teeth framed by articulating lips and tongue. There's a rousing chorus at the climax of "Fidelio" with dozens of singers surrounding us from the balconies, and I weep with pleasure as the audience rises, screaming approval, to its feet. Barenboim drinks it in. We're out about 10:30 and go next door to Le Zimmer, where I order the very unsatisfactory wurst-and-kraut plate for 85F, but the wine is good and the desserts (from Berthillon) marvelous. Don's over-anxious and over-chatty, but he seems to like Jean-Jacques, who likes him in return. Subway back before the 1AM last train, and collapse into bed.
SUNDAY, APRIL 28: Up at 9, phone Don at 9:55 to get no answer from his room, have toast (NOT his usual excellent rough Poulane country-loaf, sadly) and juice, shower, read, feeling very weary, and leave at 2:30 for Grand Palais. Buy a carnet of 10 passes for 44F, Disney is 37F EACH way, so 74+44=128, which is MUCH less than 350F from a five-day pass to zone 5. At 2:55PM almost get on the wrong train at Palais Royale: but look at the FRONT and it said NOT La Defense by Ivry: I'd have gone BACK where I'd COME from. I AM tired! 3:20 into Corot to 4:30 for 45F, ALL is expensive. He looks like AT LEAST three different people painted his pictures, reminding me of the statement in the exhibit: "The United States has bought 3000 of his 200 paintings." Surprising crowd for that amount of money (NO discount for aging), not that many masterpieces, but "it was the exhibit to see." Many CERTAINLY look like the one Joe did that he calls HIS Corot! Walk through the stamp market, restraining myself, and pass the CLOSED Ledoyen and Laurent. I'm looking for somewhere to eat, but sit on the Champs Elysee (looking at the sculptures erected all along that avenue) till I get cold at 7PM (having bought tickets AHEAD of time for Disney tomorrow), and metro back to Gobelins and walk AGES till 7:30, when I settle at the Brasserie Port Royal for Quick Poireaux and Filet Julienne (dry fish) and 1/2 muscadet for 124F and I leave NO tip at 8:15. JJ says that ALL bills contain the tip! Back to get a blank message, brush teeth, look at Disney plan until 9:30, feeling very TIRED. JJ's been taking care of the sale of his Porsche today and had someone to meet tonight; I get to bed at 10 before he comes in.
MONDAY, APRIL 29: Wake, JJ's in. Pee at 4AM. Wake at 7:30 and chat, up at 7:55. Breakfast toast and juice, to metro at 8:30 and to Nation at 8:45. At 8:50 get on the WRONG "A" RER train, and off at Nogent-sur-Marne. Back to Nation, since it's an UNCERTAIN stop at Vincennes, and at 9:10 go down "passage interdit" and see a sign ONLY backward that points to right train, which is IN the station, with no sign, though a person SAYS "Marne la Vallee," and THEN an announcement comes, and we DO stop at Vincennes at 9:18. RESET! To Eurodisney Station at 9:50, and onto Big Thunder Mountain line at 10:01. On at 10:11, LOTS of screaming KIDS, are stalagtites and explosions NEW? Longer than I remember: four minutes to 10:15. One Phantom Castle line at 10:18. LONGER line. In at 10:25, down at 10:30, out at 10:40---were there OUTSIDE Western scenes? Adventureland to 10:45, ventre du terre to 10:50. 10:57-11 for Aladdin, which is only a walk-by Xmas window, humpy genie at END. DECORATIVE shops in Arabic style with sensuous shadows over heaps of merchandise, and lots of CHARACTERS walking around at 11:02. Onto MONSTROUS "Temple of Doom" line at 11:05. Read and put earplugs in for longest wait and coldest wind, on at 11:56, only about 20 minutes, and ONE tiny loop. NOT worth the WAIT. Lots of sexy guys. Fantasyland has DRAGON cave (second "cave") till 12:05. 12:15 I find that Peter Pan is closed. 12:20 to Visionaries, only auto and jet race-cars! To Visionarium at 12:25, sign saying eight minutes to go, and SIT on the floor to watch 16-screen TV, out at 12:52, to Videopolis, and "Live" Beauty and Beast, STANDING, at 1PM. SHOW goes till 1:25, giving the whole THING interspersed with clips from the movie. On Space Mountain line at 1:38, SAID to be 45 minutes, but there are lots of short cuts. Indiana Jones was the only slowest. This line is mostly in the DARK, kids whizzing past, earplugs IN, feels GOOD! The ride NOW has a corkscrew and a complete overloop. Sign for Baltimore Gun Club: "Ad Luna per Flatula Gloria." Ride 1:54-1:56, DEFINITELY THE HIT! 1:58 "faut de mieux" onto Nemo line and walk-through submarine with an octopus attack from a side window. Onto Space Mountain line AGAIN at 2:09, because it looked so short. Electro de/velocitor, OR Electro develocitor? 2:36-2:38, BETTER in the FRONT. LUNCH from 2:40-3:05, ham and cheese, OJ, brownie for 45F. Photo to 3:10, and onto Star Tours line at 3:15, behind GIANT, his WIFE is taller than I am. Kids acting up. On at 3:42 in the FRONT in the MIDDLE! To 3:49, GREAT! Space flight ends in GAMES arcade to 3:56. Photomorphing looks like FUN. To Cinemagic at 3:58. Into Captain EO line at 4:10, ending at 4:27, no REAL wait. Photos and on line for (do you believe?) "It's a Small World." Ten-minute ride, over at 5, but it's so slow LOADING we're out only at 5:05. Onto Peter Pan line at 45-minute wait sign at 5:08PM. Do ALL people, behind, REALLY like to touch, kick, press against the person in front? 5:34 into the "final straightaway," will THIS be the longest wait. In at 5:37 and out at 5:39. Great flight, but not as magical as I remember. The first London scene is really the best, but goes past too quickly. "Pirates of the Caribbean" looks like an INSTANT in, but maybe that's because everyone's BEEN on it? THAT was wrong: HORDES on line inside. Out at 6:13, about a ten-minute ride. Photos and panorama to 6:24. Caruso's Cabin is 84 steps up from 6:35PM to 6:50. Photo Sinbad's genie, pee, drink longly, photograph the castle; I'm TIRED. Final panoramas to 7PM, when CROWDS begin leaving. BUT I decide to get in line for TRAIN, NEXT will take ALL, and I get INSIDE seat? Train ARRIVES at 7:05, will CLEARLY take all. Well, it fills HALF up and leaves at 7:08. Off at 7:18 in BEST seat, and get off at 7:38. End at LAST. Sit on train at 7:45, leaves. Two dolls, one pale blond, one VERY white-blond, grace train to 8:20PM and nation train comes right away and I sit. Train home 8:40 to 8:50. JJ suggests La Chaumiere des Communes, and it's a WONDERFUL dinner: my sweetbreads, GREAT wine, delicious desserts. Bed about 12.
TUESDAY, APRIL 30: Wake at 8:40, up at 9, shower, breakfast, chat til 10. To Museum Jacquemard-Andre from 11-1, out to find Grande Cascade and be refused for my shoes, and we go to Relais du Bois and eat on terrace for 160F, salad charcuterie and Swedish, and water and kir. JJ drops me off at Les Invalides at 3 and I pay reduced 35F for tomb and surround tombs to 3:20, and then to back to military museum to 6, walk to Latour-Margurb for Metro by 6:20, via Opera to line 7 and Orangerie, and back at 7. Military museum has L wings (and don't forget the CHURCH), found LAST, and four floors EACH, 2 wings, 2 sections, maybe 100 rooms or groups of guns, uniforms, armor, toys, miniatures, PLANS and models of forts (and audiovisual of Briancon), and medals and emperors and paintings large and small, and horses and swords and pistols and armor-workshops and oriental arms and horse-armor and dinner service and caps and cloaks and coronation uniforms and much other stuff, film of D-Day, maps, telescopes, pistol workings, Korean and Japanese swords, 6-7 pages of room layouts that I take to retain idea of STUFF there. Though none of the PATHETIC Gaillirand room of MODELS in exquisite wood and metal, in new cases above and below floors, that NO one takes MORE than five minutes in while giving doses of boredom. Back at 6:55! Don called three times, JJ called back and confirmed tonight. I "shine" my shoes with JJ's liquid. Leave at 8PM in my tacky suit for Caviar Kaspia, starting with straight vodka to make everyone tipsy, and Don praises everything but JJ and I think it's rather mediocre. Interesting neighbors, though, who end up complaining when their credit card isn't accepted, and they look like scam artists from way back. Drop Don just around the corner at his hotel. Back to sleep, exhausted.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 1: Up at 9:50, Paul calls at 9:40 and arrives at 10:15, while JJ is still at his toilette, and we go to Castle of Monte Cristo in Marly after looking at the Marly horses around the waterworks supplying the Royal Castles. We lunch at an Italian Traviata in Chambourcy 1:30-2:15 on pizza, then to the Desert de Retz and walk around and back at 4:30 and I SHIT my pants on the way up! Lay down, up at 6:30 for tomato soup and bread and cheese, and at 7:15 write this before leaving by car to "La Grande Duchesse du Gerolstein," in a downstairs theater surprisingly full, and though only an orchestra of 8 and a minimal cast, they give a rousing performance, and who can forget "Voici le sabre de mon pere"? Drive him home when it's over at 11, while he CONSTANTLY protests, making me SICK, and back about midnight, exhausted as usual, and SICK. Jean-Jacques makes me VERY soothing hot tea, and I SWEAT at first in bed.
THURSDAY, MAY 2: Shit at 3:30AM, 7AM, breakfast and read till I shit again at 11:15AM, STILL staining underpants! JJ buys Loperamide, and I take two pills at 11:30, one at 6:15PM, STILL diarrhea, and I had a temperature of 38EC last night, 38.0E again today at 5PM, and 38.4E at 6PM! That's 100.1EF. Paul will bring antibiotics tomorrow. We leave for "Cinderella" at 6:45, and I feel BETTER (as Jean Jacques remarks) talking about FOOD. Good performance, though the father is not nearly as good as Montarsolo was, but SHE so enjoys singing her last flurries to the audience that we all stand to cheer her. Seats RIGHT at the ends of the orchestra rows, great views, awkward getting in and out, so I'm glad I don't have to leave! Over at 10:45 and we go to Cafe de la Paix for melon, lamb chop, and profiterolles, and I shit and take a pill at midnight.
FRIDAY, MAY 3: Take pill #5 when I shit at 4:30AM, and again at 10AM, taking the last pill. Breakfast and we're out by bus at 11AM to Jardin des Plantes, to Anthropology Museum, with NEW displays with audio, visual, and video programs, and lunch at 1:30 of croque and two sorbets and shit AGAIN at 2PM. We buy SECOND set of Loperamide, GLAD I asked Paul for antibiotics for tonight. Walk to Finance and American centers, and Paris library, and subway back at 5:15 to talk to fatigued Don and shit again at 6PM (pill #8), rest, shit and pill again at 7:40, now "ready" for L'Ambroisie on bus and walk, in at 8:40, Paul already there, Don in at 8:50. GREAT tasting of salmon and tamponade, feuillantine de langoustines aux grains de sesame, sauce au curry (340), with spinach; supreme au bar aux blancs de poireau acidules (350), and croustillant de selle d'agneau de sisteron (with artichokes), ragout de fevettes (cheap beans, delicious) (330),and SIX desserts (160) which adds up to 1210, with two GREAT wines about 640 each, and total for three is 3247F, taxi home, and I shit again and take pill #10. Try to keep track of all the accounts: Paul loans me $100 cash.
SATURDAY, MAY 4: I wake at 8:30, SHIT PANTS at 9:30 AGAIN, taking pill #11, have breakfast, REST, and JJ goes out. I read, feeling TIRED, go to bed. JJ is back at 12:15. I start packing; his nose bleeds. We're EVEN money-wise with my paying for last night! [My records read: JJ gave: 600F cash, 45F for Jacq-Andre, 530F for "Fidelio," 590 "Cinderella," 130 "Gerolstein," 110 Friday lunch, for a total of 2005. I gave 170F Le Zimmer, 80 Relais du Bois, 360 Huc, and 385 Kaspia, for a total of 1082, but when I add 995 from L'Ambroisie, it comes out to 2077F, MORE than he gave me.] I rest till 2PM and out to Brasserie des Gobelins for salad and potatoes and ham and walnuts and water. Back at 3, change clothes to 3:20 and out to car at 3:25, starting to be nervous. Long slow ride to Gard du Nord by 3:45, precisely TWO minutes before my deadline, and see FEW signs until I see it's UPSTAIRS, and JJ was right, it WAS on the west side of the station) and THERE'S the entrance that I slip my ticket into and pass, then get shouted BACK to TAKE it where I'd PUT it. Go to LOUNGE, but they wave me to TRAIN. When I get down at car 17 I find I'm in the last car, #18, with THREE people on beside me at 3:55! THESE cars have tables---partly first class? Even a four-table "private" section. At 5:27 we stop at Calais-Frethun, off at 5:33. Change time to 4:35. Into tunnel at 4:36:04 and out at 4:55:34, 19.5 minutes! Stop at Ashford at 5:06 and off at 5:09. Lambing time STILL, now with HUNDREDS of rabbits---and two black CATS. Stop at 6:08 and wait till 6:30, when John and Geraldine come down the ramp they thought I'd walk UP, and we walk Covent Garden and meet Lana Lasanti as I buy elderberry concentrate that JOHN suggested! To RULES, good, they have doe and red deer, which is better, and I have the quail, GREAT stilton/celery soup, odd blackberry and licorice ice-cream tart, out at 10:30, onto JAMMED subway one stop, and then I read London Sunday times book and travel sections. Back at 11:20PM and shit loose (take pill #12) and HOPE it's the LAST. Bed exhausted at 11:40PM (12:30AM Paris time). Don't need Rohypnol, won't have ANY trouble sleeping tonight!
SUNDAY, MAY 5: Wake at 5:50, shit from 5:55 to 6:15! Shit at 7:50-8, too. Again 8:50-8:55. Breakfast, taking antibiotics and pill, and talk of WALK through London, making 30£ taxi call for 7AM tomorrow for 10AM flight, getting in around 1PM---a NINE-hour flight? Always SO long! Look for London guide, take HER Imodium and find MINE, unopened since 1993, and leave at 11:35 to Piccadilly Circus, look up and down streets, get to WestZenders at 12:30 for good Chinese lunch to 2:30, wander to British Museum, through Asiatics, Iran, and Greece to 6PM, home at 7 to shit and take first of MY pills, reconfirming seat 16G at window. Finish this at 7:30. HOME in 24 hours! Large bag is 66#, small is 26#, camera is 7# for a total of 99#! Wash face and FINISH packing at 9PM. Lentil-zucchini casserole, salad, Guinness, and rhubarb crunch till 10PM, John's Columbia-Panama tape to 10:50, and bed WITH Rhoypnol 2g and alarm set for 6AM.
MONDAY, MAY 6: Wake at 5:45, feeling OK, up at 5:55 to shit and shower, NO real shit! Breakfast to 6:45, chat with John, brush teeth, taxi buzzes at 6:48! Go to car at 7:03, chatty fellow to move to front with arrival at 7:55 on the dot! Labor OVER, then away, $4 skycap, but cross road and find free CART. Check in section F and my duffel x-rays OPAQUE in corner and I have to UNPACK and give her BOTH videocameras to x-ray, repack with SWEAT and WITHOUT sweater, and onto check-in line at 8:25AM. WEIGH in at 29.9 kilos! We all laugh. Check-in by 8:34, then see video that 9:55AM is DELAYED till 11AM! By 9AM I guy 14.25# Cointreau and have only 15.7# left, about $25, nice for "next time." And Cointreau FITS into blue bag, so the DUFFEL is gone and only TWO bags left! Have to ASK where john is and still no gate listed at 9:12AM. American Airlines seems leaving for NYC at 10AM! At 9:47 the sign changes to go to gate 19, trundle along and find there's no JOHN in lounge, but at 10 she says, "We'll be boarding in 20 minutes." Sit, earplugs in, and read. 10:15: To back of "Rushing to Paradise." [From there:] 3466 miles, all kinds of titles: "Premieres, Premieres A, etc" board FIRST. 36 rows in plane, with my row as 7. Call to board 10:25 and on at 10:30, RIGHT IN PRECISE MIDDLE of wing. Hope I can SLEEP! Move out at 10:47. Off at 11:07. Lunch at 12: good chicken, two Rhoypnol YET watch Broken Arrow, a comic book, with Howie Long a Dolph Lundgren SMART doll in movie, over at 3:07PM, 4 hours into 7.5 hour flight! Try to sleep but can't. Change back 5 hours to 12:30. 55 minutes left. Fill out customs forms, soon down! Total cloud, under clear sky. [Finally decipher LAST note from actual TRIP at 9:30AM 5/27, three weeks later:] I might sleep---land 1:45, totally disoriented; get bags on cart and wait in taxi line to 2:20PM. On taxi 2:24(?). Out in a fog of which I remember NOTHING, except paying cab in front of building and John being there to help me upstairs with my bag.