Ireland

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Whenever I had gone to sleep, be it in Mongolia, Baikal or in the middle of Siberia, I had told myself what time I wanted to get up and without fail I had woken up at the right time. The morning sun, birdsong and fear of being assaulted had probably prompted me to get up. How I woke up at the right time after cycling, drinking and talking as much as I had the previous day remains a mystery. The soft morning sunlight was streaming in through the windows, of course, but I couldn’t help feeling it was more likely the spirits of the seven pints I had consumed the previous night. (from "Against the Wind" - Poolbeg Press)

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