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Saturday, July 14, 2007

picture this, dear reader. there i was, trying manfully to undersand the chat about diego rivera murals in spanish (so far so good) when i glance over my shoulder and spot a long haired chap reading "mr nice". a chill passes down my spine. then i realise that there is a song i recognise on. my hair stands on end. manu chow. i had better go and stay in a posh hotel tonight. i who have fought so bravely agaisnt "travelling", against this dastardly hegemon. then someone starts taking about social models. wach yourself dan. there are pinkos about.

in more prosaic news, i am continuing to eat quite a lot and talk italian insted of spanish. there is one other humerous anecdote to relay but that will wait for a bar and a pint and you. or maybe tomorrow┬┤s post. moreover, as i write this there remains the possibility that an euskaltel rider will win on bastielle day, which is a situation devoutly to be wished.

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