Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner. When Charles Ryder meets Sebastian Flyte for the first time at Oxford in Brideshead Revisited, Sebastian, before vomiting through the window of Charles's room, explains that it is not the quantity of drink he has taken that makes him feel unwell, but the variety.
After a night of modest potations, some amontillado before supper, red wine with scallops and with the Stilton that followed, a couple of bottles of Harvey's porter, and a single glass of champagne at midnight, I woke at 4 am from a dream in which I wandered the streets of Paris, searching for a lavatory after undergoing brain surgery without anaesthetic. I was surprised to find I had a raging headache and an urgent need for the lavatory but, if I had thought for a moment, the clues were in the dream.
In spite of this I joined some thirty or so Seaford Striders for our New Year's Day run from the Martello tower to the sailing club and back. This is a restrained and genteel affair. The faster runners moderate themselves to the pace of the slowcoaches, parents run with children, and at the end we all had a biscuit. The weather was grey, but by no means cold. The figures below include one mile jogs to and from the start.
Time: 43:31
Distance: 4:65
Pace: 9:22
