The last night in Prague was better than any. After the fascinating activity of sitting in a tattoo & piercing shop waiting for Miriam, Amanda & Heidi to have holes put through their bodies and extravagant dye put in their (well, Amanda’s) hair we, um, went to the Blind Eye again. And Akropolis. The same old places again, yes. But it was a nostalgia holiday. I have a yearning to go back, though the choice between broke and an alcoholic vs bored but relatively sober and not destitute does point to me remaining in this self-conscious county until I’ve saved up a bit.
Journeying back to England, I still felt sad to be leaving. I can’t communicate anything of it to anyone in England, it’s just a clean slate over here. Which does make me a little sad, yes.
Back in Brighton we’ve been showing people around the house in an attempt to rent out the spare room. One Czech girl seems interested and we’d be fine with that, if she is. One guy came round, said ‘There’s no carpet in the room’ and left. He was speaking to Ramon, though, so it may have been an excuse.