DEVON AFTER DARK. Today was another baking hot day. I rang Linda at 7:30 am for a chat before we got to work.

Tonight, I stood out in the field behind our camp and watched the darkening patchwork around me. The rolling green hills had all merged into one: only their vague outlines visible against the backdrop of lights shining out from Torquay. Here and there, wispy patches of mist clung to the floor of the valleys and the lights of farm houses were scattered about. The last quarter moon, an angry, sullen red, stretched up to clear the haze on the horizon in the east, eager to pour it’s silver tears on the land and light the way of the night creatures. The air was good…

I accompanied Paul Theroux aboard train number 104 to Xian by candle light before going to sleep.

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