Tuesday 9 June 2015

Sick Parrots in Paradise

Here we are in the most beautiful little resort in wonderful California,hot sun,blue sky lovely beach. Lots of little houses made of ticky tacky and we're both proper poorly. Some kind of lung infection caught on Icelandair or on the Amtrak as a punishment for not travelling first class.It has me coughing, stops me sleeping and forces me to trainer ma vie a longeur. Linda much the same. It's a crime to be like this in paradise but every day I think I'll be better and everyday I'm not.

So we don't go anywhere though there's lots of places to go.We shop but don't buy anything. Eat but don't enjoy and lie around unable to sleep. We've eaten out once: Duckieslived on sandwiches and wondered about going home to be miserable there. More cheaply. Not the spirit that built California into paradise. Remember the kind gentle Indian tribes who lived here before the Spanish came died off when they did. Perhaps they left this legacy of disease.

Evening to Kirk and Sally for dinner. They've bought a new, huge RV which now blocks their drive.35 years old but with a new engine.Cost $6500.What on earth are they going to do with it? Drive round California they say {blocking the roads} There's a movie there Like Convoy of an RV Rebellion as angry RVs blockade the streets bring everywhere to a halt and drive the government into exile. More powerful than the Tea party. Perhaps like animal farm the leaders can turn into BMWs when they've won.

Monday The misery of slow recovery. Like the British economy..Manage a short walk on the beach and a visit to town to buy some books {having read all I've brought] and lunch at Mo's but too weary to do more. Come back and succumb
Tuesday Recovery continues. Slowly. E mail from Alistair Campbell saying they only want a few Labour people at Charles Kennedy's funeral and I'm one. But ca"nt make it. Sad cos Charles was an original and we'll not see his like again..Critch Mitch and Titch were a great team now there's only me left.Charles asked me to deputise for him at Critchley's funeral so I ask Alastair to deputise for me. Charles's dad played the bagpipes at his wedding. Now Alastair will have to do it at Charles's. funeral.

One week and two days of our holiday wasted through sickness.Which isn't over yet.

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