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"Broken glass....nowhere....people pissin on the floor you know they just don't care." Well it is Belgium after all.Men AND women are partial to a bit of what us Brits refer to as indecent exposure.The main difference between driving to work every morning here and in Two Dogs is the total absence of broken glass as a result of local Hedz or Neds (as they are called in Glasgow) smashing up as many bus shelters as they fancy.I also don't have to worry about walking alone anywhere at night.In fact I seem to be the only person out on the street after 10pm.I don't know if there is a voluntary curfew, or whether the kids here are kept well in check by good parenting.But it is a total pleasure to walk out at night without worrying about what gathering you may happen across,and whether you should make a detour to avoid it.After 16 the kids are allowed in the pubs whereas in England they are completely cast adrift.Those that don't/won't work don't have anywhere else to inhabit.Consequently they don't have much to lose.The message.Look after the kids and they just might look after you!.... P.S The bus shelters do stink of pish though!!
So it was off to the Alps for the weekend.These are the things that you can do when living in central Europe.Just catch a TGV and in 4 hours you're there.Except in an effort to compromise,I decided to stop short of the high alps in favour of more leisure(beer) time in Chambery.Well how was I to know that Bourg St Maurice at the end of the line, was the last stop for Val D'Isere! How was I to know the World Downhill Skiing Championships were going on that very weekend! Chambery was deserted.Guess were everyone was and I wasn't?All I had to do was stay on the train an hour or two longer and I would have been trailing in the wake of Franz Klammer,Patrick Tomba, and Harti Weirather....I may have even got a glimpse of Anya Pearson....all this with the late David Vine's dulcet tones filling my head with nostalgia.Except it didn't happen.I didn't do my usual homework before booking a trip.This time, more than any other time, I paid a high price for my ignorance.It was still a pleasant weekend but it could have been so much more.At least I know where Val D'Isere is now.Pity David Vine didn't spell it out, all them 'Ski Sunday' years ago!
Lord Roby has been ill recently.Very ill indeed.At the height/depth of this maladie things were a tad desperate.As I travelled home on the Monday evening, wondering why I was shaking all over, I decided to top up on fuel.I unwittingly gave my card in and then proceeded to drive away without paying.Upon arrival at my apartment it dawned on me that as well as a nasty virus,I was also experiencing my first attack of hypoglyceamia.The thing with this is;the tank is almost empty but like a 'replicant' you don't know exactly when the axe will fall.I searched in vain for Lucozade.None to be found. Off to the supermarket for Gatorade.On the way I stopped to get some cash.No card! Back to the apartment for loose change.Up 3 flights of stairs.Getting weaker by the second.Off to the local Co-Op.NoGatorade.Cakes perchance.Off to the pattiserie.All patisseries shut on Monday, as they are open all day Sunday.Getting seriously delirious by now.Stumbling along as if I'm pissed,mumbling cake,cake,cake!Then from nowhere as if by magic I am approached by two young very cute Belgettes.After explaining I was English and didn't understand a word she had said,the cuter of the two asked me 'If I thought her friend was pretty' !!! Ordinarily this may have led to a rather pleasant exchange.Except in this instance it was my turn to ask them if they had any sweets!! They didn't.I guess I may have inadvertantly hit upon the way to a Belgettes heart.Act pissed and repeat the word 'Cake' over and over.I returned to my apartment, Co-op cake in hand to find myself locked out!! Game Over.
