Thursday, August 6, 1981


The day began swelteringly hot, too hot, but soon clouded in and turned colder. We trudged over to the other side of Quinstow, our mutual dislike of the crowds reaffirmed by the thronging hordes sporting bronzed limbs and identical sporty outfits. We had dinner at a café and spent hours sitting in various shelters.

Back at the hostel we listened to three Londoners boasting and laughing about how they were going to get laid tonight; they were being really really crude. Amusing.

I’m looking forward to moving out. Another day to go!

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