I’m still in Edinburgh, but just for an hour & a half now. Its a gorgeous day, so the length-long journey through Britain should be pleasing on the eye. My last weekend’s been cool enough, a nice jam with the band round a piano to the roar of a blazing country fire last Friday, then Charlie buggared off down Brixton on ‘business’ to raise more funds for the trip. That gave me a little psychological breather to gather in some notes for my writing abroad.I mean, Charlie deals ketamine to half of south london normally, & on running out the other day he took a train to Leeds to get 30 more grammes. Seeing as I knew a handfull of folk who’d have some, meant he had 25 g to himself. As we were living in each others pockest this meant I found myself in his bubble all teh time – theres only so many stories a guy can take about elvis presley & jerry lee lewis b4 I guy goes in sane.
I also had the delight of a little farewell fling with an art-history graduate. I told here she was something of a champagne bottle that smashes agasint a ship’s hull as it sets off on its maiden sailing – with better curves. She’s gorgeous, actually, with really curly blond hair & delectable lips. Id met her at a hairdresser friend of mine’s house. She was trying to get a 60’s style bouffant, but I said it looked more like a volcano – this brutal honesty endeared her to me & we took it from there.
With the launch champagne flowing a little too heavily, however, I slept through yesterdays alarm, waking up at 4.55 AM. My bus was leaving at 5.10. Quickly gathering my things I thought I could flag it down on London Road on its way to the A1. I guess it took a different route, cos it didn’t come. In a way this was lucky, because I’d left a load of stuff behind in my rush to leave the house.
I had to buy another ticket, so yesterday I sent m’lady a text saying I’d had such a good time I thought I’d stay on an extra night if she’d have me. ‘You missed your bus didnt you’ she replied, but admiring my attempts at romance she saw me anyway. After a night of wine & her fine efforts at cooking a steak, I woke up at hers this morning, after a on Ferry Road in Edinburgh, with a golden glow over the city panorama like something out of fortress Rajasthan. It became the catalyst for my first sonnet of the trip…
I saw the sun rise up on Arthur’s Seat
& sillouhette the city’s spinal street
This is, I think, a hint of things to come,
Like Sufis singing Sindhi to a drum
As Autumn’s vegetation makes decay
Down Goledenacre/Warriston’s pathway
I went, & swept a picnic round Tesco
To help me on my mission to Heathrow.
Now calling on a friend to say farewell
Emotions curious I tried to quell
With morning tea & biscuits flick’d the dial
For one last hit of Jeremy Saint Kyle
Then poet-prospects loading up with ore
I left my native lands for Siva’s shore
I get to Victoria at 8.30, & with our flight in the morning, & the expected heavy time-wasting security after last week’s terrorist threat, we’re gonna go straight to the airport. From there we wont be going to Mumbai, as I thought, but Chennai. I guess in the desperation to get the cheapest flight, not really minding where we ended up, I got myself muddled up. Luckily, though, Chennai’s the capital of Tamil Nadu, the state I spent a few months in last time round translating its Thirukkural. So thats gonna be friday’s mission, distributing manuscripts round the publishers of that mega-city. Catch ya’s later.