Back on the only road I know ...

Time to unwind on the sofa, comfortable with our lass, before another journey to Leeds/Bradford airport!

Ever since I returned from Toledo I've felt more misshapen in England than I usually am. This material way is truly redundant for me - as another British catastrophe unfolds (Christmas Election) and overwhelmingly commercial Christmas revves up - I feel insanity all around me! And I'm bound to fall foul of it again and again if I stay here!

Since I walked through Leeds City Station on the 23rd November nothing seems to be heading in a wholesome direction. The crowds of "revellers" falling drunk, like a modern equivalent of the Gin Lane etching by Hogarth, welcomed me back to West Yorkshire with a shock so frigid I thought someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over me? Then by the following day I was stumbling along like one of the buffoons merrily staggering on ale. It just doesn't help me in anyway!

Now two weeks have flashed by and I'm looking down between the cushions on the sofa for the very little money I get I seem to have lost so cheaply. Yet I've seen it come. Before it really got me! Now I'm away walking the remainder of the Camino until the money is gone and I don't feel trapped between happiness and unhappiness in this rotten place.

***

Hush you, little precious!

Your moment is fading

As the the untruth evaporates.