It’s all terrible clichéd to do this when one is travelling, but I have found myself thinking a lot. Thinking about how I live my life, the good things, the bad things. And a lot of stuff is like having colonic irrigation of the brain. Remembering things one has forgotten; things I have tried to forget, that were actually just stuck like a bit of meat between the teeth. The things I find myself writing in my notebook are pretty self-absorbed. I just hope that by the end of this trip, whenever it does end, I will have a different title in mind for the sure-to-be-nonexistent autobiography.