After a small stint practicing the art of contortion I managed to find a comfortable position curled up, as if hibernating, where I could get some sleep. I had some crazed half asleep, half reality dreams of scratching my teeth on each other, which was cringe worthy. After I woke up just after 9 I went down to the lounge and grabbed a ham and cheese sub plus a bud light for good measure.
I fear when I return to Angleterre, all I'll be allowed to eat is vegetables and drink orangensaft. The number of people aboard has reached crazy lows, and we lose more than we gain at our stops on the way. I've been told the scenery tomorrow, going into Cali, is the best yet. At the moment I can just make out cosy towns nestled down for the night, with enthusiastic christmas decorations tracing house edges. Then we get surrounded by blackness for a time, and sometimes a strange fabric burning smell comes to linger, and keep us company for a while. I apologise for my current writing style, old Kerouac has infected my brain.