I have been watching a TV programme about Vietnam and I must say that it seems to be a very boring place these days. Saigon, or Ho Chi Minh City, as it now is, was once Asias answer to Weston~super~Mare, with strip~tease joints on every street corner and with all night hot and cold running tarts. Sadly, it now resembles a Suffolk village hamlet with nothing but rice and with Methodist ministers everywhere. President Carter really should do something about it. Perhaps I should drop him a line?
-=-
The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label weston-super-mare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weston-super-mare. Show all posts
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Wednesday October 9, 1985
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Slept until 8:30 when the Schweppes delivery man woke us. Much chaos. To market after a frugal breakfast. Ally explain...

-
Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
-
Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...