5September1995

London: 5th September 1995
My dear folks,

I must tell you how lovely the drumming of rain sounds, even to a Londoner. It was loud enough to penetrate the afternoon kip I was taking in the TV chair, the multiple explosions of millions of raindrops on the leaves of the trees just outside the windows. I awoke with rare pleasure. It was a brief shower but heavy & deeply relieving of both gardens & spirit. The country has been drier than a bone for months. The skies are still grey & there's more to come - storms forecast. To make my day, there was a fax from Jones to say rain had fallen down in Portugal as well, drenching the Quinta. What a blessing! It was so badly needed. She had cut back sharply on the watering this past week as the borehole showed signs of drying up.

My day started gritty eyed around 8 a.m. If I think about it, yesterday really continued into today without a break. I'd finished my fourth overnight shift on Monday morning & cycled home gratefully, trying to hold my breath when I got caught behind a bus or belching lorry. My mask is kept for desperate occasions only. I fell into bed & woke at 3 to find a "help" message on the phone from a friend who had just bought a computer which was being awkward. I had offered my services during a recent visit. So I rode over to Chiswick where we spent two hours sorting out the problems - caused mainly by incomprehensible instructions.

I got back to find that a guru at the BBC Networking Club had emailed a response to my own plea for help on how to download software from the Internet which I've been trying to get hold of for weeks. Even so, it took me two hours to retrieve of it & several hours more to decompress & install. It was 4.a.m. before I'd done, later than planned. Even then, I couldn't dose off, not even with my customary cosmological sleeping pill. My brain was still problem solving. I'd hoped to sleep late..... no such luck. I shall sleep all the better tonight.

The morning was devoted to "my flats" & Quinta guests. The non-paying tenants swore they were depositing the money today; a second flat is being vacated & a third needs attention. It took several letters & phone calls. Mavis, who thinks he owns the whole of Maida Vale, was oblivious to this. He took himself off for the morning & returned to demand that I scratch his back. I run my nails backwards from his head to his tail, like a stiff brush. It's treatment he has become very fond of, especially when either of us returns to the flat. He signals his desires by squatting on my feet in an unmistakable manner and then flops down to be thoroughly "brushed". He loves it and takes all he can get. Funny guy, but I rather like him.

After lunch, I cycled off to deliver/post my letters & raid Sainsburys. These days I park my bike extra securely (2 huge locks) well away from the cycle park where I had my saddle stolen. The supermarket was relatively empty, always a bonus. I topped up on the usuals, packing the items into the useful canvas satchel I obtained in Namibia some years ago. It generally accommodates enough to last me for a week. On this occasion, I couldn't fit the bread in & slung it in a plastic bag that hung below & must have looked just a little strange. I suspected that Jones might well have had something to say about the arrangement. It was nevertheless perfectly comfortable & secure. I was behind a woman who was buying lottery tickets at the newspaper stall; she handed over £30 for the tickets (they're a pound an entry) & I whistled silently. That's serious money. I had only one digit right last week. It could be a long wait.

We got some wonderful footage in on Sunday of the Zulu King watching scores of maidens doing the rain dance, an occasion we're told that monarchs traditionally exploited to top up the royal harem. The "news" was that for the first time, (relatively unendowed & modestly clad) white & coloured belles were among the Zulus. The latter came swooping, boobs pulsating, down a hill to be inspected by an approving king. It was great stuff. I had hoped to do a little report but the pictures would have been hard to justify at any time & quite impossible when we were leading on the Women's conference in Beijing - not half as interesting!