oh i am jolly tired today, for why i cant say. i should perhaps go and buy a book. a colleague recommended being jordan, which i hear is lovely. i recently unearthed g-dog's discarded copy of a confederacy of dunces, so maybe i will just go and have a bath and read that. i will go and make come tea and eat a banana and look about me for inspiration and a p.g.wodehouse book.

although i remain stoical in my love of cricket, i must say that fortune has dealt england a rum hand in the current series. at least vaughn played well this afternoon, which is some solace. i was sat next to a turncoat who has developed F5 related rsi. to add to the sense of gloom on such a sunny day poor old ingmar has copped it. but this post sounds too dour when i am in so fine a humour. i had an above average weekend: freja, cafe, cinnamon bun, hillbilly, rain, rough trade east, tyyabs, bed. i might plug in my record player so i can listen to ys.

hat-tip: ian hogarth.

bloody hell. it is all gas and gaiters having creepy as appointed boozer of 2007 but yesterday i was completely battered and we didn't even go to the wiskey bar. woke up this morning struggling. luckily i didn't have work, only a tutorial and a haircut and a visit to the cafe. post my trip to the americas i am drinking more filter coffee, and it is jolly good there. i might go again tomorrow, and again saturday. or maybe that would be excessive. i am enjoying the iron and wine / calexico streaming action now. i really need to sort out some kind of stereo here, but i cant quite be bothered as yet.

back in london, i am feeling appropriately chillaxed for a man coming off a fortnight's break. finishing off my online test today adds to my satisfaction. i have done a lot of thinking about the end of the big p, and all in all a la recherche is quite the most lovely book i know. the final volume adds only a little to the plot, but the satisfactory hint of an ending at the close of the fugitive is delightfully expanded. it goes on a bit about the theme which everyone always bores on about in respect of proust: that of memory and history in cakes (and the rest of the world of sensation). it also shifts focus from albertine to the rest of the novel, which is ultimately necessary. i am off to make a salad and be generically smug. this will surely not last for long.

new york is fun, all tremendously metropolitan. today i went to the richard serra show which is wonderful - you must go. but not on delta. 4 hours delayed, 2 hours in customs, fontano is a saint for lending me his couch. i had a bit of a balles des tetes moment in supreme today, all very sorrowful / evocative / joyous. more to follow when i am not contre le montre on the net (ie from blighty). and proust is done (alas).

it is raining in mexico, so i will write a quick post before i go and see harry potter. this looks like a jolly good articule for any of you who want to sound like you know a bit about what goes on in hedge funds.

so many chilis have done my digestion no good, so today´s diet has been bland. i did get some delicious corn in xochemilco (think of venice made in 300 ad). i think i should manage to finish the big P before i return, which is some relief. rasmussen is looking good for the poka dot jersy again, which is reassuring in such uncertain times.

picture this, dear reader. there i was, trying manfully to undersand the chat about diego rivera murals in spanish (so far so good) when i glance over my shoulder and spot a long haired chap reading "mr nice". a chill passes down my spine. then i realise that there is a song i recognise on. my hair stands on end. manu chow. i had better go and stay in a posh hotel tonight. i who have fought so bravely agaisnt "travelling", against this dastardly hegemon. then someone starts taking about social models. wach yourself dan. there are pinkos about.

in more prosaic news, i am continuing to eat quite a lot and talk italian insted of spanish. there is one other humerous anecdote to relay but that will wait for a bar and a pint and you. or maybe tomorrow´s post. moreover, as i write this there remains the possibility that an euskaltel rider will win on bastielle day, which is a situation devoutly to be wished.

i have come to the end of the fugitive, and it really is a remarkably satisfactory way for the story to end. so, i am all the more interested to see what the final volume holds - i will start it now. today´s revelation is pulque. it is zesty, sour and viscous all at the same time, which is quite a trick to manage. i had tomato flavour, which the kind barman prepared for me with lime, chilli and salt. perfect. a pint of fizzy, slimy bloody mary. if only i could get it in borough on a sunday.....

Early thoughts from my holiday:

• never fly delta if you can help it
  
• atlanta airport must be where david lynch lives
  
• the death of albertine is mad
  
• mexico city is food mad - lucky me
  
• dont fall off a top bunk. some poor chump broke his beezer last night doing just that.

more to come no doubt as time marches on. i think i might abandon the sea side and go to a spa insted. i am gonna go down luis barragan´s gaff this afternoon which might be a bit of fun.

what a weekend for dan. friday night was a bit mashed up, saturday saw the precious moments of the tour in london and dinner and i have spent today in utter panic. tomorrow i fly to mexico for a week or so and i feel rather under prepared. thankfully i now have suncream, my passport and proust 5 and 6 amongst other items co-located on my bed. i also have a bed to sleep in monday night which is some comfort. important news for fans of finns in the form of a cafe on golden square in soho - it is rammed with scandewegains and delicious cakes and fishes. surely much else to tell, but little time to tell it. will probably communicate tomorrow from jfk where i must pass an amusing 5 or 6 hours waiting for a plane. i am thinking i might try to write a bit in mexcio so wish me luck.

great news.

the man morissey has a seriously dipped neck line. almost a year since i first drunkenly smirked at "i haven't got a stitch to wear" in tcs and how far have i gone? 500 yards? half a mile? not far enough? six inches vertically downward from the chin?