And here I am, or there I was, setting off on the 20-km bike tour I mentioned in yesterday's post....all right, all right, I promise to stop wallowing. It's just that my old mate Dave Mackie, with whom I was lodging that glorious summer 23 years ago, sent me a batch of photos from the Dordogne. Dave's settled in Yorkshire now, with colorful memories of his own that include globetrotting and a brief but intense sojourn in... Zambia, was it? Anyway, nostalgia hits hard, harder at certain times than others. As I contemplate the world, I see few improvements. In myself? Fewer. Gimme the past.