The weekend's brief summary of Italian-only posts for my English-only-speaking fellow bloggers. Here I attempt to quit smoking tobacco, then I say farewell to my flatmate Antonio, bound back to Sicily. Next, the poll on how to dispose of Marco Cappato MEP is over: 75% of you have voted to kill him by STD. Will do.
Waterloo railway station in London used to be the terminal for the Eurostar high-speed trains from/to Paris Nord. Last November it moved to the gorgeous renovated St Pancras, leaving Waterloo with some figures to celebrate 13 years: 206,825 trains for 81,189,738 passengers, among them two French presidents and two British PMs, just 60 MEPs, 3,746 catwalk models and other A-list celebrities, 11,830 skiers southbound to the Alps, and 203,137 joyful rugby fans. There were 13,237,947 business meetings, 11,274,997 romantic weekens along 9,732,004 tearful farewells, 5,854 proposals and 2,069 people joined the "half-mile under club" - that is, shagging in the Chunnel.
This post is about the obvious picture: an elephant sexually aroused by a VW Golf. Should you have an interest in elephantiac erections, google the images on elephant penis. Finally, an anticipation of the well-known booze party on the London tube the night before the ban on alcohol consumption on public transport. What I didn't notice before is that the yellow Circle Line chosen for the massive get-together looks like a bottle on the Tube map!
4 commenti:
Hallo Miss
Where is Daria Veronesi?
greetings
Rebecca
unfortunately Daria gave up blogging.
greetings to you
I certainly applaud your decision to give up smoking. Very good for the voice.
Signorina Welby cara --
Also congratulations on stopping smoking, I wish you perfect and permanent success. I've bought a new Miracle Cure, a pill called Chantix, but so far have not worked up the will power to start taking it.
I am addicted to European trains, for me Paradise is a train ride anywhere in Europe.
One time I spent the extra money to take a supertrain through the Chunnel, from Bruxelles to London.
Well, they promised I'd be in London for supper, and they were good to their promise.
The rest of the experience sucked the hairy wazoo.
1. I arrived at the TGV station in Bruxelles with plenty of time to spare -- 5 minutes.
The gate guards said: "You cannot take the train."
"Why not?"
"You must go through the metal detector and the X-ray and we must examine your luggage. You must be here at least an hour before your train."
"?????????"
She muttered something about Terrorists.
So I had to drink that nasty Stella Artois across the street for 2 hours before the next train. So it's not a train, it's an airplane, it's not a train station, it's an airport.
2. I love trains because I can look out my window and see Europe.
For noise abatement, the TGV rides at the bottom of a deep ditch. I look out my window and see the sides of the ditch -- a beautiful view of European dirt for 3 hours.
3. No interesting people to chat with, no walking around up and down the train. Boring businessmen in suits and ties reading The Economist. No students, no real travellers.
I'm not in THAT much of a hurry. What a horrible experience.
The DE ICE trains -- okay, you can see Europe out the window, and they're fast. But that Chunnel TGV -- it's regular trains for me and the Calais-Dover ferry.
What a great idea -- a boring and paranoid train.
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