My foot caught an infection a couple of days ago on
returning from Bath. I took my shoes off on the train and when I alighted I
couldn’t walk.   At times the pain is so
excruciating I could howl.  It's swollen
and  I can’t get my shoes on so last night I read on stage in my Birkenstocks.    The
morning is  most painful because when my foot descends from the bed  the blood rushes down and my it feels like
it's on fire while being stabbed by  hot nails.

It’s 7.30am and two hundred yards from Galway airport sheep
are grazing in the field. The sun is scorching the sky. It’s a beautiful
sunrise.  I am supposed to go to the
southbank the moment I arrive in the UK at 11.30am but I am in way too much
pain to do anything but go home.    I hobble and wince, hobble and wince.