Um affy no weel.

Unlike 3am this morning when I was 'affy no weel'. Those of you who speak Dundonian will immediately recognise the difference in anxiety levels in those two phrases.

Eventually had to succumb and make a doctor's appointment this morning resulting in antibiotics for my urinary infection. Some of you might find this poetic justice after me taking the p**s out of all these poor tourists, and you might well have a point.

This is my survival kit, a chanty (or chamber pot for the more genteel reader) Lucozade because that's what you always got when you were wee to keep your strength up, grapes of course, my pills and the heartening news that today at least I'm not going to be misplaced by the NHS.

Apologies to those who regularly read my ramblings as I've not been able to keep up to speed with blip, but I will catch up eventually, rest assured.