… after getting the news….

And in response to the last exercise.

The wife and I have just had a slightly tearful dinner, with some humour….

What I would do would have to be practical and achievable.


The first night I would go to a fancy restaurant and get right royally pissed. I’d kick off with a bottle of top notch Sancerre followed by some Barolo and some Armagnac to finish. Home in a taxi.

The next morning, I would start to chant again.

I would fly to Zürich and thence to the restaurant atop the Schilthorn. There to take one last look at Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau, splendid. Then home again.

I would spend the day listening to music, Die Zauberflöte, Lama Tashi and Richard Burton narrating Under Milkwood. I would then cook dinner, my world-famous Pig in the Pot. I love to cook. Perhaps watch Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence on the DVD.

Each day I would be chanting and meditating more.

We would then drive to North Wales. On the way I’d try to top speed the Gti at 147mph on the M6 toll motorway. Dirty Babylon may catch I and I, but me no pay him fine.

We’d stop at the hotel where we got married, walk in the gardens, eat rack of Welsh lamb and walk on Llandudno pier.

Then we would go to Beddgelert to that cottage by the stream, we would walk along the river. Be soothed by the air and the gurgle of fresh mountain water.

Next to that long, long beach near Pwllheli, where it first started to dawn on me what a strange creature I was, forty years ago; with Quadrophenia running through my head.

As the time got nearer I would climb up to Glaslyn, in the cwm beneath Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon) to behold and to meditate.

It would be there that I would wait for death’s gentle tap on my shoulder.