Sunday, May 16


The cellmate's flight to Ireland was cancelled due to resurgent ash. So we had a last-minute panic to get her to a ferry.

Now I'm alone again, things are simpler but it takes some adjustment after several weeks close together.

One thing I always appreciate about transit lounges is the solitude. There's time to slow right down, drink the last bottle of Weissbier, and prepare to die, just in case. Nothing matters. All farewells have been said. A good time to die.


  1. Albert? How come you're going to die when all you're going to do is go back to your auntie's? Most fears of about flying. Are the buses that dangerous in the Fatherland? How do you get someone on a ferry in Bavaria? Are you sure the poor woman knows where Ireland is? It's in Ireland, if that helps. Hotboy

  2. Good point Hotters, glad you're paying attention. She was able to fly to London.

    Fortunately I may never need to visit the PPP again.

    I'm not feart of flying, or being dead, just dying in slow agony. PS I don't think you need worry about spontaneous combustion.

  3. Albert? If you end up slowly dying in agony, just shell out with some nazi gold and I'll hit you with a hammer! Hotboy P.S. Are you back in New Caledonia then?

  4. Hotters you're too kind.

    Yes I'm back in full time work. You could try that.