Journeywoman 2.

Mutterings continued.

This time last year in 15 minutes time (eh?) I landed in London after a 13 hour flight from Singapore. After lugging a suitcase and a holdall up two flights of stairs at Earls Court station (you'd think a tube station on a direct line from Heathrow would have escalators all the way up, or a lift that works. I think it's the Poms' way of killing us Ozzies off.), I staggered to the Sara Hotel, just off Warwick Rd. A somewhat tatty hotel but cheap (for London) - 40 quid, double bed, en suite bathroom and breakfast. The Sara has a lift that actually works and is within 5 minutes walk from the station.

The woman who cleans the rooms and serves breakfast is rather interesting. Possibly Russian, she has dyed blonde hair with black roots, a bum bag and is often seen sitting in the breakfast/reception area muttering to herself in a foreign language.

I don't get jet lag flying south to north, just shocking cramps in the calves (I'm convinced at the time that it's DVT and I'll drop stone dead in Oxford St and get walked on by tourists who are too busy looking at their maps upside down and wondering where the road signs are. They're on the buildings, BTW.)

The first time I flew to Europe in '98 I was awake for nearly 40 hours. Perth to Hong Kong and then Paris, arriving at 7am. I wasn't allowed to go to bed until 10pm, woke up 7 hours later and felt great.

Last time I wasn't jet lagged, just very tired. I was walking into walls and giving the wrong money to street fruit sellers.

Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. And why not, ye bilge rats.

Last night we had a great house for Noises Off - over 100. The set changes were applauded at the beginning of acts 2 and 3 and Stephen was hugely complimented by the departing crowd.