Sitting in a cauldron of boiling water, the likes of which were last seen on Island adventures gone wrong when the little pygmy natives cooked the lost white missionary, I try in vain to blink away the streams of liquid salt pouring into my eyes. The instant tan line I have attained in less than a minute is sadly a bright red one and the ominous music in the background is giving off the impression things might not be looking too good for me right now.

And fudge is it HOT!

My armpits are foaming though that could be the soap. Or on the other hand, I could have armpit rabies??

Just knocked off another 10hr day and writing my journal in the bathtub is probably not the greatest idea I have had this lifetime. Oh, did I say? I’m now a builder.

Flew back into Germany bout a week ago from old England ways. Couch surfed around Frankfurt for a few days and then hitched down to Karlsruhe. Couch surfed some more and then moved on to Landau where I met up with Jo again and began work. Needed some down time.

Oh, just checked. It is sweat. Thought for a moment that perhaps the shower was running.

- If my sweat is this salty, does that mean I have too much salt in my diet??

So far at work I have smashed two walls, 30 windows, and a door. Also stripped wallpaper, sanded and ground walls, selotaped paper to a floor, drawn lines, built Noah’s arc and screwed some screws. I have also inhaled enough paint fumes to get an entire country high and so all in all, a pretty productive week I feel. Should have been inhaling primer fumes but the paint tin looked the same and it was all in German so if you ask an ENGLISH speaking person to primer the walls, how the hell are they gonna be able to tell the difference! Oops (o:

Now, with Jackson playing in the background, a stomach full of blue berries and rice pudding and of course, the sweat aiding in keeping the bath full, I lye contemplating, well, nothing really.

I prefer showers but I was told I couldn’t take one yet as the tiles hadn’t been laid. Um, how about the fact that there is no shower head either? Wouldn’t that be a pretty good reason?

I am quietly content these days. It’s good to be doing something productive and good to catch up with Jo again. Lots of laughs and no thoughts of the moro for now. Never mind trying to remember the name of yet another person met along the travelling road (O:

- If there is a soulmate for everyone and someone settles for less, are they stealing someone else’s soulmate??

My hair goes past my shoulders now at the back. Some would call it a mullet, I call it awesome Mr Henry. Um, actually no I don’t. I call it The invisible wisdom of a thousand trees. Um, no again. I guess I call it a mullet too. Haha.

Oh, Venga Boys.

Hey, anyone want to tour Ireland, Scotland and Iceland with me? Otherwise met in South America in around Oct? Anyone want anything posted from the land of sausage?