A rebel without a clue.

I think that rain changes everything. I must nurse Tomislav and hope that this rain is one huge expletive. It breathes in and out. One minute heavy and another soft but ever present. I think today I wish I owned an umbrella. And a bowler hat. An umbrella with a cane handle or bone or ivory. This is another Saturday night washed out. In Diocletian's palace there are many arches to shelter amongst with drowned Americans really suffering the abominable weather is this gadforsaken cidy. I think I'll go back to read and to sleep after the rain petters out...

There must be a reason why I always travel alone. And trace a route solo. How I dwell in once glorious piazzas and temples of gold where many pass but none offer a welcoming hand. I have to force so rudely upon them and hope the bait be taken. I must for lives I lived make an effort to attach my presence presently to someone on their journey home to Rijeka. I am capable. But maybe I am an age, I alone, see as young?

Rain has come and emptied the ancient streets Everywhere people rush to watch TV And chase the sun back as it retreats Wailing on the edge of reason As it is safe to say goodbye and This is the end of the season I wrote a postcard To the 'O so dear' And got back to white proto-vino Nature on the VHF channel That bored my senses and Closed my lids until it disappeared For the pattering to remain Maddening the vanished crowd Starring cross eyed out of a window Where the glass merges tears And rain in torrents drowns Lanes and alleys whispering please And we have no joy from hearing A repeated drumming withering nerves Frayed screams and forgotten dreams Stood on an imagined pier.

Hi Paul, This is the first day when finally autumn gas stretched it's brown hands over my green eyed stare... Still it's all good in Split. Mores the question can I camp in the sodding rain up in Rijeka? Well it's a good tent so undoubtedly. I hope that my blog will be the beginning of something as if I can write around the edges I've got it! Where are you living currently?

It rained all night last night. Abysmal, but it's only meant to be today and some of Sunday When the wind blows north westerly is really cold here. I'm guessing that the east Adriatic coast is very windy in winter. I've finally managed to get into the novel I've been carrying around with me since July. Something about it at first put me off, but now it's gathering me in. Which is good as that's a cheap option. Off to find breakfast in the shape of sopernick...peasants food. 10kuna. £1.17. Slept much better and didn't dream about Janet Hobson, etc, but had a friend request from her today...

Galum Internet is free but doesn't work with my iPhone. Need a postcard still. And I think I might venture out of Split to see somewhere else tomorrow? Or maybe it'll be nice enough to go to a beach? Slavui, maslina and duhan: 1 kuna, 20 lipa and 10 lipa respectfully. I have a huge weight lifted from my kneck. Emma selflessly offered me £50 to help me when I get back to England. I know that I caused this situation my self. The whole adventure is like France 2000 but a million times larger. All I needed to bring £800 and not £400! I am running through selling numerous items to help raise some cash while I am here. Ray bans Nike windrunner Here comes the sun. Sunshine on a cloudy day...cheers sister. This is holidaying on a shoestring. I haven't eaten the shoe leather yet but I am close. I have a postcard for Ross on Wye...

Came back to the old lady of Split and receive white grapes: white grapes are green. To get clad properly for a day out walking. Socks and boots. I wonder if I can get Soparnik cheaper than 10kuna in the greenmarket? All grapes have seeds in the rest of Europe. The same grapes used to make wine are eaten daily too. The trick is to swallow the seeds. I need to write a postcard to Sallyann. On Bilanova Ulica Jesus walked by carrying his groceries and free of disciples up to Calvary. No more Sobarnik to eat, but Borek is another peasant fair, which is slightly boring to me. I walked into the more modern and less cared for Split. The one of tenements and broken road surfaces and dogshit and washing hanging in balconied 1 room maisonettes. This is where the fog has gone; gassing all the languid and exhausted ladies and vile split smile elderly men. The rain has been threatening all day. And now the clouds pour forth to wash the dirt away from the smiles and grimaces of statues about ...

Foul day. Saturday date with rain Pondering over long kava And what to feel As asking for an Americano A tall cup is more the key First day, Thursday, I walked passed this spot and looked but I didn't linger Second day I retreated here after a bad nights sleep and drank twice from the sure cup. Third day I decided to take in the carob and sopernik field trip first. To drink a cup and plough into 'Daniel Martin' while the wind blows a newspaper headline into the wind and the damp cobblestones and I gave a bloom to the caffé waiter(a screwed up headline)and he ties down our shade to stop it blowing into history like the recent newspaper. Beer is delivered on a milk float. It is the only vehicle that fits into Diocletian's traps. Karlovačko, limona, mijeko, kegs and Leffe blond. And leaves with a crate of emptied milk bottles. The caffé next plays 'Friday I'm in love' which would work if there were creatures of the day. And this not a Saturday. What...