It seems, dear peruser of blogs, that I have unwittingly returned from my brief sojourn in Germany with an unexpected memento; to wit, one Germ.
As I write, I gaze glassy-eyed at the computer screen, laden down with the Mother of all Colds. My head is doing a good simulation of being pumped with Cavity Wall Insulation, my nose that of Niagara Falls, and my eyes feel as though the sand from all the Costas has been introduced into them, without anaesthetic.
I’m coughing like an old man, feeling a Winter’s chill, yet gazing out at glorious sunshine and Palm trees. It is an odd displacement. Certainly, I contracted this waiting around at a deserted railway station in East Germany, but one feels you have to actually be there while you’re suffering its effects.
I feel a fraud, languishing, bunged up to the eyeballs, in the Mediterranean sun. Still, better off here, than there, of that I have no doubt.
It started with a sore throat, not the type I get from hard singing, but one that was clearly an infection, you can feel the difference. Then it was downhill all the way. I’m just glad I don’t have a gig for a few weeks. Perhaps there will be time for Niagara to subside, and some men to come and take out the Cavity Wall Insulation.
A Cavity Wall Insulation Man earlier today
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