Now I am miserable as hell because I did stay Friday and Saturday nights as well. That meant buying another Eurostar ticket for £133. This cheap holiday just got ruined. All because when I walked into Fifth Avenue and sat down with my first drink, there appearing in front of me was Leyla. My fate was sealed. I was too drunk to do anything, but nor did I feel I could go home on the 556 Eurostar as I was supposed to, and as I wish I had. Instead at that very time I was finishing my Brussels Grill steak and walking back to my hotel to pay another 86 euros for two more nights. At least I have not spent any money at all on my credit cards. This entire trip, hotel, trains, and spending cash has come out of my bank account only. So the slow downward movement of my credit card debt should at least continue. But depressed now. I should have gone home last night, as planned.