travelling sure does take one’s toll. the last time i flew somewhere I caught the Nasty Plane Disease, which, I’ve observed, lasts just about long enough to completely ruin one’s trip, no matter how many sleeps are involved. picture me shacked up under a parisian garret, nose dripping in tandem with the leaky faucet – which of course had a different beat than my travelling alarm clock – being kept awake by the materialization in my mind of these overlapping rythms, every 27 seconds – or is it 26? – their beats joining as one.
underdressed? surely a returning crown prince need not worry about vestimentary propriety.