I did all I could to avoid eating things that would give me the famous upset stomach, tortured intestines and things I do not even wish to mention or hint at on this blog. But I failed. Was it the strange burger I ate the last night in India, or was it the crappy tomato and salad sandwich I ate on the Air India flight back to Paris? Whatever it was, it struck me down all day yesterday. Thus this blog a day late.
I returned, even so, to Charles de Gaulle airport on Monday night and went straight from there on the RER train to the Galway pub to have a fat, juicy, Imperial burger and play the open mic. There I met friends old and new, and managed to do quite a long set, with all the encouragement from Stephen Prescott and the audience and fellow musicians. So it was quite a celebration and quite enough to take a slight edge off the “tourista” the next day….
That’s all I will write about that tonight, so I can get off and play at the Highlander tonight, having by now made at least half a recovery from whatever it was I caught. They told me it was almost inevitable that one’s first trip to India would be blessed with an upset stomach – I guess I was just lucky it happened in Paris and not there….