June 3, 2024

Plans for the day detoured by a poxy Bank Holiday. All attractions are closed, plus the weather is bitter and squally. Nevertheless, took the measure of Kings Island and sat along the river with cider in my hand and swans cavorting in the shallows. The sun-poisoning I got in Sligo has never healed, and re-asserts after exposure, and renewed after the fewer than ten minutes I walked unprotected yesterday in sudden sun. Burning sensation on brow and scalp and lips, face red as a lobster. I think a little ultra-violet crept in through the clouds on my walk today. Slept well last night, though both here and in Cork the only cover offered is an immense comforter that crushes and confines. The whole time I’ve had to kick it off and sleep wrapped in my raincoat. I remember a gladsome time last night, though doubt I can drink that much again tonight even to achieve a similar effect.