Irvine Welsh’s diary: ‘Remember to get the Jesus aliens in, Irv!’

I’ve been heading east in a circle around the world from Chicago, taking in New York, London, Edinburgh, Liverpool, Bristol, Brighton, Paris, Geneva, Barcelona, Auckland, Sydney, Melbourne and LA. Now I’m killing time in Barcelona. I’d forgotten what a wonderful town it is, and also reminded of how Mediterranean culture really is right at the apex of civilised society. By comparison, US mall life seems consumer capitalism’s ultimate declaration of vacuous failure. I’m sitting drinking wine in a café with three wonderful women (Italian, Spanish and English) from my publishers, and the next thing I know it’s 3 a.m.

A long layover at Heathrow to get the connecting flight to New Zealand. I’ve only ever been to the Antipodes on business and so have always had good seats. I’ve travelled in some dreadful circumstances in past lives, but economy class on such a long-haul flight would be a very taxing option with my long legs.