I’m currently ill. This is unusual for me: I can’t remember the last time.

Of course, I haven’t seen a doctor. I’m male and British, and we tend not to visit doctors unless we are clearly dying. I’m not dying [I think, and hope]. I have a really bad chest and I’m coughing a lot, and it gradually got worse over the course of the week. I feel pretty bad. I think it’s getting better now, but that could be wishful thinking.

I’m spending a lot of time sleeping and generally doing nothing. Fortunately I have had 9 days in the UK (I’m travelling again Saturday, to Chile and Argentina). I was planning to do lots with those 9 days, but I guess it’s important to rest.

Now everyone will be thinking: Goode, you have pushed yourself so hard this year, with excessive travel and far more work than is healthy. So it’s only inevitable that when you stop, you’ll get ill.

I’m not sure it works like that. I can’t think of any mechanism. But in my case it has. I’ve just had to stop, because I can’t really do much in my present state. I’m looking forward to being well again, and maybe (maybe) I shall try to have a more balanced life next year.

At the moment, I’m doing my accounts. And then dinner with friends later. And The Sampler Icon wines to look forward to tomorrow, plus lunch with some more friends. So I really hope my body cooperates and that I am, in fact, getting much better fast.