Seeing as I'm back in Germany…

After a couple of weeks back with Mrs. F and the Fingernails I'm now back in northern Bavaria. The weather, as it was in Toulouse, is absolutely appalling and I've just thrown a handful of peanuts to the chimpanzees hanging over the side of Noah's Ark as it sailed down the road a few minutes ago. Who could have predicted such dreadful weather over an entire continent when at least half of it is used to something a lot more clement? Certainly not the giraffes, even though they did stick their necks out.

For the first time ever, I've left Toulouse in the same clothes I'd usually get changed into when I arrived in Bayreuth. I should have started work here on April 22nd but negotiated a deal whereby I came later. Long story and of no interest to anyone except me, so there. Seeing as the region has seen no change in the weather for weeks I'm glad I did as I did. The canteen isn't even open here, yet, so I dread to think what it was like back in April when I was swanning it up and down Cerro San Cristobal. At least I'd have breathed better, though…

I saw something in The Independent yesterday which would have made me howl with laughter even if I'd been sober: JC Penney are selling a kettle which, if you either squint or consume a half-way decent bottle of Chilean red, looks like Adolf Hitler. A few years ago, someone took a picture of a house which also 'looked like Adolf Hitler' which also got published in the 'serious' press. It's unbelievable how a contemporary dictator who committed suicide nearly seventy years ago is still so present in people's collective consciousness, in the same way that Marilyn Monroe, who died over fifty years ago, is still trotted out as the non plus ultra in female beauty.

Apparently, it even made an appearance on Have I Got News For You last night (It's a funny English current events panel show, for those unfortunate enough to live in the real world).

The rubbish I spew out while alone always makes me think of Montaigne's telling phrase: Un homme seul est en mauvaise compagnie'. At least it goes no further than that.