Blurg. Celebrating a wonderful sunny day here in Brighton with a heavy, streaming cold. However, this has given me the chance to start Murakami's Kafka on the Shore, which seems excellent. I have not read a book by him that wasn't.

Crept out to get some bread, otherwise sleeping, eating and watching England thrash Jamaica at football on TV, with bizarre, robot-dancing beanpole Peter Crouch bagging a hat-trick. He is rapidly turning into an English folk hero. This was the last game before The World Cup starts next weekend. Really looking forward to it.

And talking of Jamaica... This afternoon Sophie called up from a cafe with Electra with the immortal Funking for Jamaica, by Tom Browne, playing in the background. This had reminded her to phone me as it was a top tune we liked when the world was young, and belonged to something called The Soul Society. Electra amazed in the background: You used to dance?

Sophie was asking if I wanted to go to a Buddhist retreat with her in a couple of weeks. I think I shall. Do me good to chill with da Buddhist bredren for a bit, and keep my mind on higher things. Mind you, I hope it doesn't clash with a vital England game.