I am not the Rain King

Thu Feb 17, 2000

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s spewing down sheets of water and a wall of impenetrable mist. So, no mountain climbing today, just sitting on my ass at the hostel doing sweet f-all. There’s no TV here, no books, no people except for the silly English birds. So it kind of sucks.

Should be able to get Joyce finished.

I guess I could just get wasted - the bar is 10 metres away. Then, I’d have to go home tomorrow.

If it’s pissing down tomorrow, then maybe I should just go back to Bulawayo. I was thinking about going to Mutare and Harare but I haven’t heard much good stuff about them, so I’ll probably not.

I’m praying the rain clears, but mountain weather in the rainy season is notoriously rainy.

I’m listening to Julien’s music; it’s the only tape I have. After listening to it so many times I’m totally into it!

I had a long conversation with this really interesting German guy last night - Thomas. Really great guy - one of the friendliest people I’ve met on this trip. After speaking to him, I’m inspired to go skydiving and bungee jumping. I wish I could move to Germany - I’ve always gotten on so well with Germans for some reason. They’re more educated and open minded than the English, not as obnoxious as the French, and not as loud as the Italians. All generalizations of course. And the older generation are still stiffs.

I just realized that I fucking did it man, I bit the bullet and did Zim on my own. That takes guts man…

This journal entry has been transcribed from the handwritten original. For more information about this transcription project, see this blog post.

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