...And Moving Swiftly Back Again

Arrrgghhh. I feel horrible. This could have something to do with the three hours' sleep and total lack of sustenance I've had (or rather, not had) over the past 36 hours or so. And to round off the misery, Amazon have just seen fit to deliver (No! They can read my mind!) a CD of The Boatman's Call. Which is now sitting here on my desk like an atom bomb waiting to go off. I can't get to Venezuela quickly enough.

Sadly though, in all the turmoil of the past three months I've completely failed to learn any Spanish, so I'll probably be drugged, mugged *and* kidnapped the minute I set foot inside Caracas airport. The only phrase I've managed to commit to memory (and then only for its comedy value) is tengo tos, meaning "I have a cough". Still, with the number of Marlboro Lights I seem to be getting through, at least it'll be the honest truth.