Calling all the tortured souls,

I heard it was a warm, sunny summer. I wouldn't know. 
After the undergrads do there last exam and scatter 
over the country people like me are locked in the 
dungeons under the Main Building, on a daily ration 
of dry bread, water, and floggings. (For the last 
bit bored-out-of-their-brains-after-the-season 
football hooligans are invited.) Only to be let 
out after a peer-reviewed publishable article is 
produced. So next time you curse the author of a 
unreadable article, remember the lonely poor bugger 
having a mental breakdown in a dark, damp, cold, 
moss-lined cell. Anyway, they let me out last
week, my eyes blinked in the sunlight. They'll
send me to Spain for two weeks to strengthen and 
tan, so the academia keeps its reputation as a 
good employer. I'll try to fall in love, to have 
at least one summer memory, however, that will be 
hard since after two months in solitary confinement 
all conversation seems to be an exoteric, ancient 
custom, that never touch the primal thoughts from 
between four walls from which the howling scream 
for existence does not escape. I look for the 
eyes: for the signs of a kinderd spirit. 
However, before I go let me share my distraughted 
thoughts on Keswick. I did not determine the 
ascents and distances yet but a number of walks 
sprouted from my mangled mind.
1) Blencathra via sharp edge. (Kicked off the bus 
before Keswick, and only via sharp edge when 
there is no hard wind or rain:"nobody dies on
my watch," as Demi would say.)
2) Skiddaw, via Little Man and Carl Side
3) High Seat, Bleaberry Fell, and Walla Crag.
4) Cat Bells and lake side.
5) Grag Hill and/of Grisedale Pike (kicked off
the bus in Braithwaite).
6) Around the lake, Walla Crag.
7) Lake side and forest walk. (extended AA-recommended,
bring your biology books.)
This is not the final version, I'll take the maps with
me to Spain.
I'll hear what YOU think on Sunday the 21st, or in the
week before the walk on the 27th!

Your truly most lost soul:

Norbert