Veliko Tarnovo
Internet access is patchy in Bulgaria and when you find it prepare to be suddenly cut off. Two hotels I've come across don't offer it but have been glad to offer me the computer in the manager's office, which I thought as pleasant as it was unusual.
The chronological, factual day by day account of my derring-doing, such as is in my last post, I'm sure must be dull- in form if not in content- so I'll put all detail of my travellings into that one entry, so you may have to refer back (if interest calls). Naturally, I keep these records as much, if not more, for myself as for other sublunar souls. I say that not to sound selfish but to fortify myself with a reason to carry on if nobody else cares to read.
I've been trying to work out why my left leg hurts in two places. In my calf muscle in a precise way it never has before, but also in the heel of my left foot, especially when I stand up in the morning after waking. Sometimes it leaves me limping. It tends to get much better after about 30 minutes or so but if I focus I can sense it's there all the time I walk. I remember I had this pain 4 years or so ago when I was going out with Maria. She got me one of those stone, rubby things you use to despatch dead skin from neglected feet, and I definitely used it. Was this then why the ailment got better? Will using one of these (pumice stones??) work the trick again?
Or maybe it's got to do with the fact I'm a bit overweight, as I was then, and have been less so since, until recently? Maybe I have too much pressure pushing down on my overburderned footsies (but why then the left and not the right also? Because my right leg is longer than my left? Hmmmmm intriguing mysteries, Sherlock.)
Or maybe its something to do with blood presure or flow in the inner pathways of my left lower tentacle.
Today was noticeable for three losses, which have combined to make me the poorer, and presumably somebody else the richer. In order of importance, from least to greatest: both of my pairs of headphones (I count both as one item), my copy of "Lost Christianity", which I was enjoying, despite its sogginess, and my Creative MP3 player. I have no idea how I lost these but I sincerely doubt foul play was involved. Its just a habit I've always had - not retaining my satellites, allowing them to slip free and defy gravity. Presumably this has something to do with attention, or the lack of it; not being present, not being focused, not having ones brains nailed to the floor. Or is it that I'm not mechanical enough in my movements, not regulated or routinised in the way some are who never lose anything except at the hand of invaders?
My mind teases me that its not too late for my MP3 player, that somehow it's going to turn up the next time I scour my back pack and open every flap and portal; or else that a mysterious email will somehow reach me, summoning me back to reclaim my property from wherever it was I abandoned it. But this is pancake thinking, isn't it? Possibly, if I could somehow remember the name of the Hotel in Koprivshitsa I stayed in last night I could contact them and see what flies, but I think its time, really, to bury the memory, and console myself with the productive rumination that, despite the damn inconvenience of its loss, it really was a crummy piece of mechanical excrement that never stored enough and too often just didnt work at all (for example throughout my entire trip to Japan last year). No hard feelings, MP3 player, I hope. I knows its your creator's fault.
Of course, if this was 3 years ago, in a more solid, reliable, less Gizmatic world, and had my case of CD's with me, all I'd do is buy another CD Walkman. But now, I have no CDs here and what use is an MP3 player to me If you can download songs in shops somewhere in the world, I'm pretty sure you can't in Bulgaria.
The chronological, factual day by day account of my derring-doing, such as is in my last post, I'm sure must be dull- in form if not in content- so I'll put all detail of my travellings into that one entry, so you may have to refer back (if interest calls). Naturally, I keep these records as much, if not more, for myself as for other sublunar souls. I say that not to sound selfish but to fortify myself with a reason to carry on if nobody else cares to read.
I've been trying to work out why my left leg hurts in two places. In my calf muscle in a precise way it never has before, but also in the heel of my left foot, especially when I stand up in the morning after waking. Sometimes it leaves me limping. It tends to get much better after about 30 minutes or so but if I focus I can sense it's there all the time I walk. I remember I had this pain 4 years or so ago when I was going out with Maria. She got me one of those stone, rubby things you use to despatch dead skin from neglected feet, and I definitely used it. Was this then why the ailment got better? Will using one of these (pumice stones??) work the trick again?
Or maybe it's got to do with the fact I'm a bit overweight, as I was then, and have been less so since, until recently? Maybe I have too much pressure pushing down on my overburderned footsies (but why then the left and not the right also? Because my right leg is longer than my left? Hmmmmm intriguing mysteries, Sherlock.)
Or maybe its something to do with blood presure or flow in the inner pathways of my left lower tentacle.
Today was noticeable for three losses, which have combined to make me the poorer, and presumably somebody else the richer. In order of importance, from least to greatest: both of my pairs of headphones (I count both as one item), my copy of "Lost Christianity", which I was enjoying, despite its sogginess, and my Creative MP3 player. I have no idea how I lost these but I sincerely doubt foul play was involved. Its just a habit I've always had - not retaining my satellites, allowing them to slip free and defy gravity. Presumably this has something to do with attention, or the lack of it; not being present, not being focused, not having ones brains nailed to the floor. Or is it that I'm not mechanical enough in my movements, not regulated or routinised in the way some are who never lose anything except at the hand of invaders?
My mind teases me that its not too late for my MP3 player, that somehow it's going to turn up the next time I scour my back pack and open every flap and portal; or else that a mysterious email will somehow reach me, summoning me back to reclaim my property from wherever it was I abandoned it. But this is pancake thinking, isn't it? Possibly, if I could somehow remember the name of the Hotel in Koprivshitsa I stayed in last night I could contact them and see what flies, but I think its time, really, to bury the memory, and console myself with the productive rumination that, despite the damn inconvenience of its loss, it really was a crummy piece of mechanical excrement that never stored enough and too often just didnt work at all (for example throughout my entire trip to Japan last year). No hard feelings, MP3 player, I hope. I knows its your creator's fault.
Of course, if this was 3 years ago, in a more solid, reliable, less Gizmatic world, and had my case of CD's with me, all I'd do is buy another CD Walkman. But now, I have no CDs here and what use is an MP3 player to me If you can download songs in shops somewhere in the world, I'm pretty sure you can't in Bulgaria.
1 comment:
i remember david c on one of his tapes said he'd read somewhere that people used to hum to themselves before we had electronically-stored music, p'raps that's a thought? Hum really loudly - in public - while staring fixedly at people - bound to result in adventures, prison time, escapades, etc.
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