One month ago I arrived in this country. Today, I’m actually setting out to explore it on my own. We’re pulling out of the bus station in Bristol. The driver just announced that we ought to fasten our seat belts, but I don’t see any. None of the other passengers seem worried. There aren’t very many on this bus, so I get two seats and a window to myself. The coach from Gillingham to Bristol was pretty full. I sat next to a little old man. I hope he didn’t mind. I wonder if increased violence in today’s society will…
We’re still in Wales, but barely. The mountains have been replaced by much gentler hills, the grouse by green fields. There are still sheep grazing, but their pastures adjoin ones holding black and white cows. Perhaps, most taletelling, the rain has stopped and the sun even came out. We’re on the M something, so the road is much straighter as well, which is why I can write. The only straight roads in England and Wales are either the M highways or the paths of ancient Roman roads. All the rest wind around like cattle paths. When the weather is overcast,…
Maybe it’s appropriate I’m watching Air Force One for the third time, especially having just seen it again this last weekend. It’s a good movie but not that good, which is why I’m journaling instead of watching Harrison Ford with full attention. Charlotte and Helen and “Beks” are in the kitchen serving up pasta. And good pasta it was, especially after only having a cheese and tomahto sandwich today that I got at a downtown grocery store in London for 99p. That’s 41 pence less than the salami sandwich I got at a sandwich deli yesterday. And it even came…