| | What, mes chers lecteurs, has become of me? Well, the answer simple: Canada, England, Hungary, Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Slovenia, and Italy.
Yes, I know what you're thinking--"Wouldn't Canada alone have been enough to ruin you're life?" well, the answer is yes, yes it would.
But that is also somewhat beside the point. And the point is, after my essay of death on Dostoevsky, I went home, packed and made plans, spent a night in Toronto, then flew away on a plane that "served" (read "sentenced us to")......"Bangers and Mashed" (read "the lips of the seriously ill, cut off and put into gravy")
 Whhhhhhaaaaattt?
After which, I had the great joy of spending 8 hours in London--at the airport.
Then it was off to Hungary and beyond, more detail mabe some other time, but I need to get sleep because it's midnight here and tomorrow I have to be up early for a rediculously long bus ride to Belgrade (Beograd).
And yes, I thoroughly enjoyed writing that sentence. Travel is happiness.
Oh, and I'm coming up with ideas for so many books (not even about the trip in particular, more about philosophical ideas like "the necessity of inherent meaning"), I just hope one day I have the time and the skill to write them.
And finally, check out this rather troubling thing--the winner of the Eurovision song contest I had the (mis?)fortune of watching while here.
 Pourquoi??????????
(apologies to canadia, the people of northern britain, anyone with eyes and a soul, and others who may be offended by this commentary.)
Well, that's all, mes amis.
'Later |
