Documents on the . . . . . . . . . your current newsletter . . . where you will be speaking . . . . . . you and your family . . . your career so far . . . your bookstore . . . free downloads of your books . . . how to help your fighting fund . . . your letters to the press . . . your publishing Home Page First There is only a quarter-inch of very stale coffee at the bottom of either flask, and when I ask if it is fresh I am told yes, it was made “today.”
Five hours ago. [ Previous Radical’s Diary ] Madrid, Spain OVERSLEPT again. Tiring dreams all night, including having won a Maserati in a lottery which I never entered. So now we get spam dreams too? Ed writes: “You should look into making your books available on Kindle. . . have you given it thought?” I reply: “I have examined eBooks and am very unimpressed. They totally destroy the typography so far as I can see.” I hear from Réka, who is back flying with Malev.
She is the girl who drove over to visit me once a month when I was a political prisoner in Vienna, although it involved a three a.m. start in Budapest each time. I reply: “How is Hunor?” — her little son. Unexpectedly she announces, “Are you still in Madrid because I’ll spend this evening there?” I reply that we are just ten minutes from Madrid’s Terminal Four.
We arrange to meet after eleven p.m. outside her hotel. — First I drive out to Zanadu with daughter Paloma, a ghastly shopping mall twenty miles south-west of Madrid. My idea of Hell.