A night in Bristol.

I remember, in a night of drunkenness, coming back to the office and writing an email to my father.

I actually don't remember what I wrote. I remember that he never replied to it. It was quite a jolly one!

Today I am not that drunk, but happy enough to write these lines. Approximately one week before I depart to Canada and happy to have been celebrating that N passed her viva (or PhD examination).

That is gurt lush!, init me lover?