Sunday, 11 January 2009

I am going for a short walk

I can say that in 24 hours time I'll probably have walked through a swamp in Walthamstow with a bunch of people dressed as wetland animals then gone to the pub after and will have said goodbye to a lot of people and I bet none of the fuckers cry. TWO MONTHS WITHOUT ME. TWO MONTHS. They'll be crying by the end.

I can say that in one week's time I'll have returned to Tallinn, got drunk in all the places I got drunk in last time (notably the Hellhunt, by far the classiest bar in the world to have a crap painting of a naked chick stradding a wolf as its logo), gone to Lithuana, got drunk in Vilnius, gone to see the last surviving members of an obscure Arab-Judeo religion, and will - in exactly one week's time - be drinking with Mark in the pub attached to our hostel in Riga.

I can say that in exactly two week's time I'll be in St Petersburg, will have an opinion on The Hermitage, and will hopefully be drinking somewhere with someone, and will most certainly have felt sorry for myself at least three times.

I can say that in a month I will have gone to Beijing and left Beijing, and will probably be in a place called Xian that I have no mental picture of at all.

I dunno, I suppose that's the reason people get nervous and excited and a bit weirded out about going travelling, I can say all that stuff but it doesn't really MEAN anything to me yet.


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