Thursday 7th June

A bit too much confidence and a bit too much to drink and a few hours later after another lovely dinner and a pichet of house rose, of which I drunk the lion’s share, I was quite ill.  I knew during the meal, but for reasons of stupidity and sheer happiness I ignored the warning signs and just kept on quaffing.  We watched the end of the Jubilee concert on TV with Tom Jones and Robbie brilliant, Shirley Bassey quite amazing, Elton atrocious, Kylie boring, Stevie Wonder (why did they bother) and Paul simply sublime.  But I was fighting sleep all along and went to bed at 12.  By 2 I was awake and needing the loo badly, then came the feverish shudders which got worse and worse until finally at about four in the morning I was actually sick.  Amazing how we fight being sick, breathing deeply and walking around trying desperately not to let the waves of anti-peristalsis actually reach your throat as head pounding, body shaking and sweating and regular visits to the loo; still we fight the solution, which is to be sick.  It is the presence of all that alcohol and undigested food in ones stomach that is causing the trouble; your body desperately wants to get rid of it, so why, oh why, do we fight it?  Ten minutes after I was fast asleep, though waking with a pounding head and a resolution to NEVER drink again.  Hahaha

The next day, though still feeling weak has been great too.  So, as long as I stay sober the rest of the trip should be fine.