From sunburn to frostbite in less than 24 hours

Am I boring, all I seem to talk about is travel. Or is so much of my life spent on the road, spent being nice to air stewardesses, pretending that it is natural to be closer to a sun than any other of the Pryce generations. An advice tip be nice to stewardesses they bring the coffee, they have the capability to bring me a nice cup of coffee. The fact that I can spill my coffee after several successful feats of balancing during severe turbulence only to be defeated by my own clumsiness at the last hurdle. The last hurdle is brought on by drinking the coffee too quickly, I adopt the scorched earth necking policy of drinking to avoid the coffee invading the cup lip in its bid for freedom, coffeee swelling into the perfect storm and escaping its paper cage and touching the executive shirt. I was afraid....embarrassed of tipping the coffee due to turbulence. Now I have internal blistering of the tonsils. Strange but true normally the coffee in calm seas is tepid, the brandy has a warmer after taste. Maybe I haven't been nice to stewardesses. "Stewardess can I have the extra napkin?"...."Stewardess can you make that a bib?"


The plane lands on foreign soil, I go about doing executive things, the weekend comes, I am invited to a beach by the local agent, the agent is nice and does not resent that his family is alone whilst he is on home turf, but his weekend time is wasted entertaining the out-of-towners.

To cut a long story short. I am a Whitey European. I may have mis-judged my relationship with the local agent. Maybe the local agent does not like me. The sun is shining. I am sitting in shadows. I am not familiar with radiation, reflection and by gum, heat. This Pryce generation is not learning about being close to the Sun. My legs are roasted, blistered to a moonscape in what was minutes and now I must return in a plane to face the European winter, which a week ago when I left was an European autumn. And so much for cracking skin cuts in my long story.


Thankfully my aeroplane coffee was tepid again, I am saved from burning my insides as much as my outsides.

Europe is not so warm. In Europe its bad weather with or without choosing clothing. I am scarf-less, glove-less, overcoat-less, skin-less. As they say there is no bad weather, only poor choice of clothing. I am probably best described as a vesty cyclone in tropical boxer shorts. Did I say bad weather, its a gale out there, its a chill factor that turns Joe Cool into Josephine Frigid. The ballroom is empty. I supect my tepid coffee luck is running out, I expect I may be some time waiting for the taxi.

From its "Its h-h-hot" to "Its c-c-c-old" to " whilst deleting the common obligatory swear word, and it only took a plane ride taking me half way round the world; undertaken with what should be a sound sleep but sadly its a challenge of waking up as bisters pop despite oneself to return to what the rest of this local community call day time. What the whether?