Nights too late for proper blogging, mostly sitting up with Richard Gwyn, Lorna Shaugnessy (last night) and, tonight, Richard, and Nikola Madzirov, over glasses of Old Monk rum.
Rather than report on every day's routine (reading, tea, reading, lunch, reading, tea, reading, evening evene) I will attempt a general recollection of the festival as a whole once I have returned.
Tomorrow the plane home, but home late.
Invitation to Boston, USA in May. Looks very tempting.
More to come.