In London today, travelling on the tube back to Victoria station, I began to feel very woozy-peculiar, as if I had taken hard drugs.  Well, it could have been a lot of hash (I once swallowed 50 grams to get through customs - most got stuck on my gums) but more likely a tab or two of acid or E gone wrong.

What month or day of the week was it?  What is that vitally important appointment I have tomorrow?  What was I thinking three seconds ago?  How come this afternoon Green Park is so far from Oxford Circus?  Am I sure I live in Brighton?  Will I ever get to Platform 14?

Now I want to make clear to any new readers (and, perhaps more importantly to any passing policeman) that I gave up hash 3 months ago - announced here shortly afterwards - and I haven't had any other, harder drugs since a tab of E on my (unfortunately long-past) 50th brithday.  And I don't drink or take prescription drugs either.

So what was going on?  Maybe my Russian acupuncturist had overdone the needles and the hydrogen (don't ask) earlier in the afternoon.  Or the borsch soup she gave me had psychadelic ingredients.  Maybe... no, I don't want to think about senility.

Anyhow, here I am back home in Brighton. planet Earth.  It's  Monday 11th August.   And I feel so coldly sane I'm beginning to feel I made the whole episode up.