Saturday 10 January 2015

Worse things happen at sea dept.

The gaslit bar was icy, heat from the blazing fire going straight up the chimney with the windy draught. Rain poured in above the windows in the small hours and we laid towels to dampen the sound. Downstairs in the morning all was locked and deserted: the landlord hadn't realised we expected breakfast. The taxi driver hadn't got the knowledge.