Even worse is somehow a feeling of despair at this whole endeavour. I've just decided I'm in no shape to brave Morocco and have cancelled everything set for Tangier tomorrow, and looking briefly at lj stuff here in Gibraltar's only Internet access point, folks seem to be full of nothing but glumness about travel. S. seems to be mildly anxious about plane crashes, I. seems to be mildly anxious about rental car ripoffs, and here I am driving a rental car and with a few flights between myself and home. I'm not pleased with the weather or the sights, particularly, and I miss my books, Dan's cat, and the wine cellar. I'd really rather be home but this was all planned long ago, before I was clear on what I was doing post-Netscape, after the upheavals of everything that came after the FUA of Sept. 11. So... yuck.
Tonight: Expensive English beer and pub food. Tomorrow: I have no idea. It's a toss-up between Jerez and a mountain town with a cave nearby. Hopefully we'll at least make it back up the Rock tomorrow; I had to come down immediately today after panicking over the stress of driving up there. Tomorrow we'll take the cable car instead.
