My best mate from sixth form college, John Picot, sent me off to Dar Es Salaam in October 1992, with a copy of Moby Dick and some wise words. We were and are still, two gentleman, from England's Verona.
Below. Photos from the albums, pages from the diaries and close ups of my Michelin map.
In the meantime I must return to publishing the correct sequence of places in my geographical narrative. Back to Athens, away to the summer of 1991.
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SCENE I. Verona. An open place.
Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS
Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus:Proteus
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
Were it not affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honoured love,
I rather would entreat thy company
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than, living dully sluggardized at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But since thou lovest, love still and thrive therein,
Even as I would when I to love begin.
Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness
When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.