It seemed even colder this morning, even more difficult to get out of bed. Have I mentioned it before? The cold, I mean. During the day it’s not too bad, but before the sun goes + after it goes down, it’s wicked. But then I do feel the cold terribly. During the hot + sweltering days that we’ve endured in various places, I used to swear that I would never mind the cold again, but I was fooling myself, of course. I complain when it’s too hot, or too cold, or too wet, or too windy. And it’ll be so much worse going back thro’ Europe, without the right clothes, without a warm refuge. I’ve no idea in what sort of places we’ll be able to stay. But of course we shall just have to cope.
We did virtually nothing this morning, even after crawling out of bed (+ that was only because we had to get up before they stopped providing buckets of hot water.) We did, however, get some application forms for liquor permits from the store which sells the stuff. Not that we wish to buy any, but we can sell the permit to him for a fair profit. The English traveller we met the other day put us on to the idea. Later on, we walked thro’ the bazaar area, which was much more interesting than I’d imagined, + out to the Lourdes Hotel. C + A had picked up their visas OK, one more hurdle successfully negotiated, + remarkably Walter, the Austrian, had been granted his – the letter had done the trick. The hotel manager stamped our liquor permit forms for us, our own place won’t do them, apparently, presumably because they want a cut. We chatted for a while, drank tea, + generally got excited about the prospect of going home.
After we said cheerio for the present, we went around to call in on Terence. It was his birthday today, + I think he appreciated the small cake we gave him, even if we did then eat the greater part of it. We talked for a long time, as usual, before going to eat at the same restaurant as the other night, + then talking some more – about travel, politics, Afghani history. He is hoping to go across the border to take some pictures. Brave + foolhardy, it seems to me, after what happened to the French journalist recently. But still.
Another money-making scheme. With our rapidly diminishing funds, every penny – rupee, whatever – counts.
