Europe, 1963

In the evening we had an inexpensive meal at the Venice youth hostel. We were astonished to find that, unlike any other youth hostel we’d been to, it served alcohol. Ah well, we thought, when in Venice (if not Rome), do as the Italians do, so we ordered a bottle of Cinzano. Bill, Dave, and Gary hardly had any: it was far too sweet for them. However, I’ve a very sweet tooth, so swigged away happily at it, not really aware of the fact that – for the first time in my life – I was getting drunk, very drunk. As I noted in my diary, I was “real bad & real sick!”