Tuesday, July 20, 2004

No Sign of Sime

Amsterdam
 
Dear me, day one and already the first disaster to chalk up on my disaster board. No Andy at the bus station this morning, two hours went by and nary a sight of his fat face. Tired after a lengthy coach and ferry journey alongside various dregs of society, and hungry having not eaten since a Greggs yesterday afternoon in Shepherd's Bush, I'm resigned to a day mooching around the city wishing I was in bed with a ready supply of pasties. It doesn't seem like much of a morning place, but it's prettier than I remembered it, at least in parts. Flicking through the local version of Metro (called - wait, get this - 'Metro') on the tram was a sobering enough experience: lots of large writing, every second word ending in 'aaart'. Maybe I should go and see some aaaart galleries, or possibly find out where Andy is. In the absence of any friendly blue and yellow fronted bakeries, I think foraging for some food is probably the number one priority.



2 Comments:

At 20 July 2004 at 11:20, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dear me, day one and already the first disaster to chalk up on my disaster board.

DO YOU MEAN DISASTER OR ACT OF INCOMPETENCE ON YOUR PART? WHY NO PHONE, GRINGO, WHY NO PHONE?

No Andy at the bus station this morning,

COZ HE'S WANDERING ROUND LOOKING FOR YOU, YOU MISERBALE LOUSE

two hours went by and nary a sight of his fat face.

IT'S THIN NOW, AND THAT'S LIBEL. AND ANYONE WHO SAYS I LOOK LIKE ROUND-THE-WORLD-YACHTSWOMAN ELLEN MACARTHUR IS AN IDIOT

Tired after a lengthy coach and ferry journey

DIDDUMS

alongside various dregs of society,

GET HER!

and hungry having not eaten since a Greggs yesterday afternoon in Shepherd's Bush,

SEE? YOU'RE THE FAT-FACED ONE, PAL, NOT ME. GET IT RIGHT.

I'm resigned to a day mooching around the city wishing I was in bed with a ready supply of pasties. It doesn't seem like much of a morning place, but it's prettier than I remembered it, at least in parts.

OOOOH. HARK AT BRIAN SEWELL.

Flicking through the local version of Metro (called - wait, get this - 'Metro')

THAT'S COS THE ORIGINAL VERSION, FOUNDED IN SWEDEN, WAS CALLED "METRO", YOU GROUSE

on the tram was a sobering enough experience: lots of large writing, every second word ending in 'aaart'.

TAAAAART

Maybe I should go and see some aaaart galleries, or possibly find out where Andy is.

AT WORK, AS WELL YOU KNOW

In the absence of any friendly blue and yellow fronted bakeries, I think foraging for some food is probably the number one priority.

AFTER HANGING ROUND THE GENTS FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS, NATCH.

 
At 21 July 2004 at 20:52, Anonymous Anonymous said...

All well and good, but Mike Lindup wants to know, "where are the pictures?"

 

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