Friday October 12th
Woke up at Simon Hall’s in Hangar Lane, skinn’d up a couple of spliffs & set out for the veritable soul bath that is a trip to Italy. Just before Stanstead I call’d on Bishops Stortford, where mi ol’ mate Bryn was celebratin’ his birthday in the pub. I spent a couple of pill’d up hours over the snooker table with him then made my fuck’d up way to the airport. Being mash’d, I’d completely forgotten to hide the skunk & shrooms in my left pocket, but fortunately the security guy found the corkscrew in my right pocket & after confiscatin’ it (xiv) forget to look in my left one. Bonus!
After the recent events in New York, it was weird feelin the tension every time someone got up to go to the loo. Me & everyone else on the plane were convinced they were terrorists about to hijack the plane! The day was glorious & clear with splendid views of the English countryside fanning out towards the metropolis of London. After the channel & the North European Plain I once again reach’d the stunning Alps & we follow’d the mountainous spine of Italy to the Eternal City herself. Not a cloud between London & Rome.
On landing around 5PM I realised I’d already done Rome in ’98 & felt in need of fresher stimulation, so decided to jump down to Anzio (1-0), scene of the WW2 outflanking maneuver (xv). The town seem’d nice enough & I put my tent up right next to the delicious Med amidst the decadent ruins of an old Neronian villa. Already I can sense the English clutter melt from my mind & I feel ready to write.