Knight-Errant

I woke with a headache, the likes of which I have not felt since the days of Arthur. The last thing I remembered was drinking with Morgan le Fay, who in recent years preferred absinthe, lighting it on fire with inexhaustible enjoyment. I have always hated the drink, but drank anyway, to avoid insulting my host. Regardless of my distaste, I thought it unlikely that absinthe alone would make me pass out; still more improbable that it would transport me from London to Tijuana.

Likely Morgan's work then. I thought back to our conversation, which after a few bottles meandered to a subject I would usually avoid at all cost; namely my belief that I was cursed, for my infidelity, to wander the world until I found the Grail. She thought it more likely that I was under an enchantment, like herself. 'I can see you will not give up this idea until you find it,' she said, 'in that case, I suppose I should help you.'

I looked around. No helpful signs like "Grail, 5km" presented themselves. Still, I have not yet searched this country, nor any in South America. I felt, for the first time in decades, some anticipation. Even if the Grail wasn't in Mexico, it would be interesting to search, and the Amazon Jungle seemed a place where the old adventures might still be found. Without any particular reason, I set off towards the beach. After all, eventually I will have looked everywhere. I have all the time in the world.