Still in Krumlov, staying at the hostel of Miss Skippy, in a room with five Germans who this morning disturbed my hangover-headache with a screaming slamming door fest.
But it’s alright, all mainly good. I will be back here a few more times, it is like a strange strange dream, Portmerion maybe. Or something like that.
Last night went to Hostel 99 to hang out with jolly backpackers, argue with them about post-structural-criticism (my viewpoint being ‘it’s bollocks’) and generally get wasted sitting round in the sun and watching people going down the rapids in little kayaks.
Well, more of that to do, I think.