2 May 2011

London, UK

“Can you check out, please?” “uh yeah…” voice croaking to life. “Ok thankyou” “Do I need to get out of bed? It’s before checkout time” “Could you checkout please?” “I could, I just don’t know whether I should” I sigh. “There’s a difference” “Ok!” “Ok what? Do I have to or not? I can’t remember if I have another night here or not, that’s all. You know more than me by the sounds of things!” “Well…” she pauses, continues unpacking cleaning stuff, then looks to me again. “I have someone staying in this bed for tonight.” “Ok I guess it’s not me then” “Thankyou!”

Christ what misunderstanding. Now I’ve got to find a bed for tonight and I don’t know what to do tomorrow, as everyone in the dorm has left.

I basically fall out of bed and throw my things into my bag. There’s an apparently ‘old’ Australian girl here who didn’t like being a lawyer, so got out to Europe before it was too late. She looks about 20, but is very clever and is really good with words, so there’s no holes in this story. For encouragement I give my gifts as gifts from the Croatians to her: two boxes of chocolates, shampoo and a padlock, and bid farewell.

Turns out I do have to go. Shit. Right after I get my lost wallet out of the dorm. What a f###up of a day so far!

Instead of being adventurous, I make my back to what I know. My 1st ever hostel.

I’m catching up on the journal, and Christ my throat hurts. Luckily I doubt I could get another flu because I’ve already had two this year–the most recent of which just a fortnight ago.

Right. I’m going to Paris in 10 hours’ time.

I don’t know what came over me but I had an irresistable urge to get to another country as soon as possible. The Eurostar was unusually cheap, so how could I say no? It’s not easy to book a place to stay; you’ve got to walk into most places. So be it.

I’ve closed my eyes and in bed, but it feels ubelievably cold in here–shivering like I’ve ingested two icebergs, and my throat feels like it’s really had to. Perhaps the fatigue is just catching up to me.

It’s been two hours and I feel just the same. It’s not fatigue at all; it’s the flu–again. The sore muscles and skin just give it away.

I think I fell asleep, because I’m awake now and it’s 5am–just a few hours before the train leaves. I’m hallucinating, too, I keep convincing myself I don’t need to buy medication, when obviously I do to be in any sort of condition to be in Paris soon. I’ve got my head under the duna to keep warm Some sleep will do. Any sleep will do.