A rebel without a clue.

Feeling sick because of the awful smell produced from some incense stick. It was so artificial and woke me too often with this overwhelming odour! Hostel X. Young lovers in the room: ear plugs at the ready. She's hot, and German, he's annoying and Cayman ... They were quiet and slept separately: I think it was a little snog. Ate late, but was asleep by midnight. Awaiting the doors to open for a coffee and I'm not far from where my lift collects me at seven. But I was shattered. Arriving at the hostel around ten thirty I was driven to find a small "ración" or simply flake out: the belly won and I ate a confit of lamb and some fishy thing called Pericana, which was simply too salty for me! I polished off the first copa vino in moments and, with the assistance of the second copa, managed this Alicante speciality. *** Here we are, three Spaniards and I, heading to Madrid on the A-3. We just stopped half way for a coffee. This was so so necessary: 5 hours broken sleep ...

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 dow...