Anyhoo (yes "anyway" was already taken).

What good is a hotel saying it sells stamps to its nigh-on wholly foreign clientèle when they only sell the right ones for second class domestic mail?

Oh dear, the ever-the-optimist is infectious. As is spending money. Still the German version of Carcassonne was a lot cheaper than at home (yes, I checked one can download English instructions).

Did I mention I'd be im Wald mit dem Chor? Ich bin jetzt hier. Via a hellalong coach journey across the plains of Outer Belgium (the one where one goes through the departments of Cava-Prosecco et pâté, the quiche one and the less antagonistic dog one, although the one that could do with being screwed up into the big ball was the one which is famous for nothing other than being repeatedly screwed up, so the main local features are the rows of markers impersonating newly planted deer-proofed plantation. That and slag heaps). Turns I'm not a fan of flat. One can't get the illusion of progress somewhere flat. It's like walking up a hill that is all false summits. It's Sisyphus for those scared of heights.

I did not do this while travelling. For a start, it's been done. While on dressing up, this caught me eye. Which are in costume and which just mufti? Because that's quite a range between the four.

And as you can probably tell, time was there not for blogging, as time was there not for much but being flung round. Less in-situ versions to follow.

Tschüß (yes, they really say it. And "wunderbar!")

Anyhoo,