The Flying Adventures of DOUG

Today I am in Perigueux and it is "cold". This means that it is about 19 or 20 degrees, but it has been raining and the sun is behind the clouds. I'm wearing my jeans. Actually, I'm wearing my jeans because my all-purpose 3/4 length pants are in the wash again after I spilled bits of kebab on them, not because it's "cold". I only washed them a couple of days ago.

There is an attractive purple line running from the top of the flat screen of this computer to the bottom, dividing the screen neatly so that something less than two thirds lies on one side, and slightly more than a third lies on the other. I wonder what caused that? It's profoundly disturbing not to be able to say that the line lies "one quarter" or "one third," or even "one half" of the way across the screen; it is unquantifiable and it's bugging me.

Last night we slept in what my Dad described as a real French hotel room. Our window looked out on a tiny space bordered on three sides with concrete walls, and on the other side with a narrow patch of sky. There were leaves rotting at the bottom. The light was dim and swarthy. The cold tap squealed at multiple high pitches when running. The beds were...

...BAD

They were great monstrous things with high metal heads and feet, like beds from old psychiatric hospitals. They were so floppy they almost folded in half every time you put weight on them. I had to sleep on an angle with my feet pulled up and gripping onto the bolster tightly, lest I slip softly down and be smothered by the gaping, springless mattress. I have a sore back. Actually, my sore back is from sitting hunched over for hours on end reading Harry Potter on the ground, or sitting on my pack, at the camping ground in Ste Foy. The window of the toilet was directly opposite our window (on an angle) and you could hear every excruciating, humiliating sound with perfect clarity. I think I'll aim for fake or unreal, or even imaginary French hotel rooms from now on.

However: Perigueux is really cool. Ha, when I write "Perigueux" I think to myself, Perry gee you ee you ex. There are ruins everywhere, including a 1st century Roman arena that I haven't seen yet, but we'll probably go there today. Also, we shifted to the youth hostel today, where we are (so far) the only people in our four-bed room, and there is a merry social area downstairs with comfy chairs and a café-bar and a cafeteria. I have spent an hour there already, reading Catch 22 ostentatiously to try and entice any lurking English-speakers into conversation. No luck so far.

Looks like Dad is ready to go. The sun is out and the roads have dried already. Perhaps it will be hot again afterall, and I'm in my jeans...