Gosh, glad I took the train. Today by mid-morning, I was back in my odorous tobacco room, flat on my back in bed. Everything ached, my bones and joints incredibly painful, gums and skin sore to touch, cold to the quick and feeling sooooo sick.
And there I stayed put for the day, rising for a quick fish soup across the road at the Tirane International, vulnerable and defenceless against the looks from the waiters and the contemptuous 'you are dining alone!' from a particularly well-heeled young woman . . . actually, I wanted to say, I am dining.
It's not easy being sick in a strange city in a stinky room.