It’s a hard life. Here I am, in the Dan Lounge at Ben Gurion Airport, guzzling as many free drinks as my bladder will allow (and enjoying them even more in the knowledge that I shouldn’t even be in here).
And that is not the end of the hardship. I am off to the Caribbean, to see the 2nd and 3rd cricket Tests between England and the West Indies (I just hope that they last longer than the 1st, and have packed my bat and pads . . . just in case the call comes).
Stuey and Dexxy know my “off on hols” routine by now – wandering around my apartment all day, vacillating on crucial issues, like which t-shirts and baseball hats will be truly indispensable – and they were not happy bunnies (never mind dogs). I couldn’t look them in the eye as I walked out the front door . . . though my housesitter, and ex-(brief) girlfriend, Liat’s breasts will make far better pillows for them than mine ever could.
I spend the first few days in Manhattan, before flying to Antigua on Thursday, just in time for Friday’s Test. Eight days there. Then off to Barbados for twelve, before flying home via NYC.
My mother has been very magnanimous on my leaving, telling me to bring back a nice Antiguan or Bajan girl, colour unimportant. Thanks, mum. And I will keep you all posted on my exploits in that regard.
That’s all for now. Must go and fight with Israelis, for things I don’t really need, in the Duty Free. So, until my next update (Oversexed in the City?), work hard . . .