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Archive for October, 2004

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The night of the lost pocket knife

Saturday, October 9th, 2004

Back at Trinco Rest, my unease returned. I did not want to take a precious valium, so I had a drink, chasing one peril with another. Daytime drinking was bad news, but at least it was now late afternoon.
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Venison with cider and black pudding

Saturday, October 9th, 2004

Stirling’s once-a-month Farmer’s Market has gone to crap. Once you could buy Gloucester Old Spot pork and propper game there. It was a bijou version of a proper market like the ones I remember from my childhood, an embryonic promise of what might once again become a town institution — but no more. Nowadays it is overpriced and overhyped. Can I afford to pay for a wild boar roast? Or fork out a premium for “organic” veg more expensive than the plastic-wrapped crap in the supermarket? — Not while on benefits. And whatever happened to the pheasants? Luckily I had some venison from the Aberfoyle Butcher in the freezer, so I can save the day with a Sunday meal fit to see in the autum:
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An afternoon stroll

Friday, October 8th, 2004

I had arranged a tuk-tuk for 11 o’clock. The commander, who had borrowed my book on whales, had hinted that he might drop by at Trinco Rest when he finished work at 11:30. It turned out that a family of Germans had to meet somebody in Trinco as well and they were running late. It would not have the end of the world to wait for the tuk-tuk to return, although I was reluctant. They wouldn’t even hear of it: “Sure we all fit in — no problem!”
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Off to Portugal

Friday, October 8th, 2004

Landround Travel have sent a letter after they could not reach me by phone. When I called back they just wanted to confirm my first choice of destination and date for my complementary flight to Europe — no hard sell of insurance, hotels etc. This seems to be one promotions company which is above board. So on the 10th of November I’m off to Portugal!
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Tension

Thursday, October 7th, 2004

Back at the French Garden, I suddenly felt depressed. The experiences of the past few days were catching up with me. How was it that this holiday had turned into some kind of expedition? Why was I chasing after pipe dreams, unsettling everyone in the process? I should go back to Negombo and stay with my husband and friends and get a grip! Forget about writing. Forget about my quest. The whales are not for me.
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Crazy night out

Wednesday, October 6th, 2004

The harbour master had been in a jolly mood all along, telling the Captain that I was his new wife and trying to pair me off with two young crew members on the pilot boat with whom he made me pose for photos. When he said he would like to take me to a nice hotel, I felt a little uneasy.
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London’s worst

Monday, October 4th, 2004

The problem with a brief visit to old haunts to have a laugh with mates is that you end up with a backlash of teary nostalgia, but yesterday really took the bisquit.
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Back in da hood!

Saturday, October 2nd, 2004

The ghetto has shrunk.

This is a sure sign that I have been away for some time. I remember that on my return from boarding school my hometown always appeared smaller. When I came back from my trans-Africa trip it looked like a toy-town to me.
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