This post has been uploaded as a blog post retrospectively from the diary written at the time.
The noisy snorer gets off at Salzburg and sleep is restored. We try to go for breakfast but our cabin attendant insists on selling it to us. Fortunately the Irish/Canadian buys it for me, and I don’t even know his name!
By the end of the 18 hour trek I feel unwell. Motion sickness and generally unrest means I can’t be arsed with travelling anymore. Paris seems more dismal, with more rogues and bastards lining the street. I walk on to my hotel having stopped for a McDonalds: safe, cheap and fun. I make my way over to the hotel and straight to my room, wash, shave, sleep and spend four hours knocked out.
I then get up and go to the supermarket. I buy water, apple and pancakes then go back and watch Sky News. Then I go out for some dinner, walk around Paris at night, and then come back for bed. I am ready to go home.
