A rebel without a clue.

Pilgrimage decamp @ Cahors, Midi-Pyrénées. Pt.12. No no no. I am surrounded by Hank the ogre and an party of quite pointless hiberians. Why? I thought it was just me and my francophiles; not tedious dutchphon l am fobic of his gaping jaw arrogant loudness. Why did he need to sit next to me and why didn't I move even when he did. Retiring to bed after four courses of our host and his partners best fayre I can still two floors up still hear that monster's voice. La guerre du! He is an arrogant chin waiting for a blind darkness to be kicked in the fuckthathurts. Over. Nice meal and I love Serge and his honesty. He makes me feel at home even if I asked not to sit with my Celtic cousins and hoped to remain unhanked ... I didn't judge but retired as early as Serge wouldn't seem badly of baldy eye. To bed with BRA! To speak to my sister and be happier within and without.

Pilgrimage decamp @ Cahors, Midi-Pyrénées. Pt.11. An OCD day? Yes I am tidying my rucksack for the morrow in a most distressingly calm and organised fashion. Cahors is ending; but I am peacefully and absently silent. Drifting unto the frontiers of Friday I put all my clothing straight along the line and organised it by what I will wear and what I will roll so blimingly sweetly tucked in the bag awaiting the advance of Samedi. I purchased a pélerin pendant from a charity for five euros and gave a beat up tramp my final five euros change. Bon Voyage people and have a wonderful vintage. I switch off this means of concerning and instead spend the time reposed in On The Road. Byeeee!

Pilgrimage decamp @ Cahors, Midi-Pyrénées. Pt.10. It struck me this morning that my contemplations began in March and have been marching and evolving ever since. I read back the first part of my current journey and the latest part and the differences are immense. Celine of French Coffee Shop also thought my tone had moved from appallingly suicidal to frankly free and apparently not feeling my impending doom. Lots of simple ways to finish my decamp this Friday. Nothing significant other than I bought the 2nd and 3rd best wines I tasted last night. The first sadly isn't available for three weeks. I'll look out for it again. On balance the two wines were a grand €42, but I figure Glenn and I will enjoy them sometime in Montpellier. If Jason were in Montpellier then I would've brought the last wine of the slurping, but sadly he is in England and i won't see him until Rome and an entirely different category of rouge ... rosso - advice on a postcard please Janice/Fabio et a...

Pilgrimage decamp @ Cahors, Midi-Pyrénées. Pt.9. Je suis un pélerin? Friday morning: 6am, I slept for the third night under the stars with the croaking of the frogs and acquired some tender bites from vamp like mozzies while I took my solace post wine taste from 7pm until 9pm. Some very charming vignerons, sassy ladies from France, England and Alix a mix of France, Scotland, Italy via South Africa. I asked her out today, but some South African family friends arrive today... No can do, but we'll follow each other at a distance ever stretching but internety and betwixt the twain. By the end of the tasting Almond, host, told me off for helping myself once too often. I am grateful to all whom showed this years blanc ans vintage 2012. Some successes and a couple average and two clear winners with one an interesting third for Sauvignon lovers. I will pop back later to photograph the ones I sampled; for the record I was a little drunk as this was a slurp not a spit! Drifting...