I’m finally back in Manila and I swear I’ve been trying to write but I am too exhausted to finish anything.

I finally started sleeping in Esfahan. Dave and Zoe, whom I shared a room with, couldn’t believe I slept through the muezzin’s call to prayer. Twice. They said sounded it sounded like a horn blast – directly in the ear. Boy, I must have been knackered.

(One of the fuck-ups on the trip was the triple-sharing-only rooms booked at the Safir Hotel in Esfahan. I was going to share with Oscar and Chad, but Gareth asked nicely if I would consider staying with Dave and Zoe as they only wanted to share their room with me. Since I got on well with the couple, I relented.)

Since then, I’ve been wanting to sleep all the time. While I didn’t sleep very well on my last night in Iran, I’ve more than made up for it by passing out in cabs, on buses, and in the plane. I even managed a 15-minute disco nap on Zahra’s couch before I left Tehran.

I had about seven hours of sleep when I got back to Manila last night but, today, I can barely hold my head up and my eyes are nearly swollen shut. I finally canceled my appointments and will be going back to bed shortly. I think.

Fucking sleep. I was doing so much better without it.