zzzzzzz

I have had two contrasting evenings of sleep. On Thursday night I slept not one minute and was still strolling home through deserted city streets and avenues at 4.30 am after a very busy and exciting evening. Last night I feel asleep on the settee at eight, was covered by a sleeping bag and slumbered there, log-like, for twelve solid and dream-free hours. Today I feel more refreshed and sharp.

I can’t think of too many other occasions when I have not gone to bed all night. Perhaps I have taken a distorted view of events – no doubt for the worst reasons of self-publicity and self-acclaim – but I have managed to convince myself that as a youth I once stayed up for two consecutive nights. An exuberant night on a cross-channel ferry boat was followed by an all-night clubbing session in an unsleeping Berlin. I was 19 and one half and would have been clad only in black and grey. I’m sure C will fire off a volley and tell me that I really crossed the briny lying supine in a recliner, snoring energetically and that I remained at our hotel the next evening with a cup of cocoa from room service for company.