Hi peeps,
I am in the pub, drinking tea.
The weather is wild and mad,
my typing finger has a cut in it from a razor that lost it's cover while in my backpack, ouch.

I went on the buses and went up to the port, the sea is big and roiling with a swell but the big ferries and little ferries are still running. Amazingly.
And yes, roiling is a word, it is a french derived word meaning angry sea, a place where the sea swirls and fights :)
It will be a bad night weatherwise and I have an hour and a half to wait until I can even try to kip down.
I have internal problems again, blood and bile and pain.

The other homeless woman seems to have moved on, I haven't seen her today.