under another sun

Budapest - scrap of a diary I found in April 2011 Another enjoyable day today. Went to the fine art museum in Victory Square by metro -- the MI. Very fast journey. Just went with Mum as Mason went to the US embassy to investigate things to do with his website. Lots of interesting art there, but only managed to see a small amount in an hour and a half. Bruegel (older and younger) particularly top. Some Goya too. Ghastly queue to get in with no apparent organisation for half an hour. Also strange Stasi like way the attendants shadow you as you look at the paintings. I took my Berghaus off at one point and slung it over my shoulder. I was told firmly that I had to carry it under my arm. Back to the Kommedia for a bite to eat and some coffee. Mason had been to a tea shop to talk about business and come back with a bag of exotic teas they'd given him. Mason then went back to the hotel to talk to the embassy guy on the phone and Mum and I took the metro to the Buda side of the river. Got

Budapest - scrap of a diary I found in April 2011 Much better mood this morning. The consequence of a decent night's sleep and no hangovers. Felt dreadful yesterday morning. I managed an hour's sleep between writing my last entry and getting up. Things didn't start too promisingly. Had breakfast (a nice one) and forgot to call Mum and Mase to say I was doing so. Then we went to the Opera House around the corner and brought some tickets for Thursday night. Then there was a big anxious chat about what to do next. Mason had spent nearly an hour plotting things. I decided to split off from them and meet them for a boat trip at two. Feeling anxious, horrid and tired I began a two hour exploration of Budapest on foot (on the Pest side of the river) mostly in unrepentant rain. It was fine though, and by the time I had walked for a couple of hours I was much better spiritually, emotionally and physically. Nice city. I remember thinking at one point that you can tell something about

Budapest - scrap of a diary I found in April 2011 Drank too much yesterday. Started off with three gin and tonics in the airport after I'd met Mum and Mason. And continued after that. Mind you the flight wasn't great towards the end so I was happy to have been anethsetised. I arrived in Heathrow early - too early - and Mum and Mase were late and arrived looking flustered. Budapest is raining and grey so far, but we had a niceish meal in a slightly touristy restaurant called Nostalgia. I left Mum and Mas and went for a walk at night - feeling slightly drunk. I came back to the hotel bar and bought some cigarettes, smoked one and retired. Have been feeling horribly heartbroken again today. Probably just drunken maudlin. I feel old, sad and unhealthy right now in the middle of the night in a strange town.

Deer Path - scrap of a diary I found in April 2011 Really tired now. Went for a walk after a fairly nasty breakfast with Mel and Chloe along Navy Pier. Icy wind and quite good views of the city. Returned and Mel and I took a cab out to Deer Path. Getting on well with Mel. Arrived - finally - at Deer Path Inn, which styles itself as English in "Historic Hotels of America" strategically left in the room it says it is modelled after a mid-15th Century Manor House in Chiddinghurst Kent, England. Each of the Inns guest rooms purports to be named after a National Trust of England site. Mine is called Ormesby -- two big rooms with armchairs and two big tellys. Curious absence of soul however. Then work. Went to Abbott with Mel and Kristina and prepared for tomorrow's presentation. Client pleased I think. My campaign is going mental. Back to Deer Path at 4:30ish. Mel went to her room and I decided to go for a walk. Loads of churches, huge houses and virtually nobody to be seen. I

Chicago - scrap of a diary I found in April 2011 One of those longer than ever days yesterday. Spent the first half pottering about in a considerable amount of fear. I tidied up. I went around the corner and bought myself ten fags smoked two nervously in the back garden. A couple of phone calls to Mum and Mas, and Bob and packed and set off. Once I had set off I felt better, although entirely still like a condemned man. On the plane reading a book about luck that Mike lent me. I was actually fabulously lucky on this journey. I only realised after the event that I had been upgraded. My seat number was 1A First Class. So the flight was even more restful than business class. I had been able to go to the Red Carpet lounge in Heathrow and drink free gin and tonics and smoke some nervous gaspers. The flight had its turbulent moments but with judicious gin and tonics I kept the horror well at bay. I was able to get quite flat in my seat and had my legs up in front of me all the way. It w