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The purple accessory
Not broken but I think the purple was better than orange or green! The ankle turned a horrible purple then a sickly yellow colour which suggested that it was moving along on the recovery colour chart. But the problem was that the swelling wasn’t reducing and after a week I was still hobbling around like a drunken sailor. So, arriving in Enkhuizen at the home of my doctor friend, Paul and his wife Thea, Paul was not happy with my progress. Consequently it was a trip to the hospital for an x-ray which (luckily) confirmed that there were no bones broken and then on with a very attractive purple fibreglass bandage cast to support the deep ligament damage. It was so good having that sort of wonderful moral and medical support in a foreign country.
While in my convalescence I’ve been reading a very funny book called “Lunch in Paris”, by Elizabeth Bard. It’s a light hearted love story with gastronomic overtones (including recipes) and is a long way up the literary scale from the escapism crap I usually read. As well as some great recipes, the book introduces this linguistic deadhead to some interesting quaintness of the French language. For instance I didn’t know that the French assigned a sex to their
Tulip time in Holland
Not exactly tip-toeing through the tulips just yet. nouns; the (not so humble) croissant is assigned masculine gender, becoming au croissant. Personally I agree with the author that something so light and fragile and which can be dressed up in so many ways should have been assigned feminine gender. Interesting don’t you think. I just can’t begin to imagine how (Australian) English nouns would sound if we assigned sheila and bloke ownership to them?
And while still on language; at dinner out recently in Germany our waitress conversed with my friends Willem and Ann in German until it came time to order desert. I had already exhausted my repertoire of ten German words, so when the waitress came back to get our desert order, she placed a menu in front of me and in perfect English said ... “this is easier sir, it has pictures ...” At least she didn’t say dumkopf (idiot)!
Enkhuizen - 30 April is Queen’s Birthday holiday in Holland for their beloved Queen Beatrix. These wonderful people really do love their royal family and the day is enjoyed watching the Queen wander through old villages and waving at people for a few hours on telly followed by games and community entertainment for
Lots and lots of orchids
One of Willem's artistic pics of Ann and me at a massive orchid pavillion. the rest of the day. I loved it!
Then on Saturday 01 May I shouldered my backpack and dragged my purple foot into a train to Amsterdam followed by a flight down to Naples (Naaarp-poli as the locals say). That got me onto an overnight ferry to Palermo (Sicily - that’s still part of Italy for you globally challenged folk).
Noting has changed in Naples since I was there last; if anything it’s even more depressing. What buildings haven’t already crumbled are clearly moving down that path at a gallop. I’m convinced that the only thing keeping the footpath pavers in place is the dog crap and any ‘information’ you get from an official is about as useful as tits on a bull!
Having run down that jewel of Italy and seeing that I skipped lunch, I splurged on a decent dinner in the formal dining room of the ferry. Wow, what an experience. As the ferry (huge ocean-going bus really that carries people, cars and trucks etc) left port (that’s not the old stuff in a bottle, but a place from where all the tugs, boats and ships hang out) with the lights of Naples diminishing
Queen's Day in Enkhuizen
The pose, the tulips and the canal on Queen's Day. from my table window, I was tucking into my first Italian meal of the trip. Think of Durham wheat pasta (it had to be Aussie to be that good) with lightly squished tiny tomatoes, basil (of course), white wine and that fruity Italian olive oil and a sprinkling of parsley with crusty bread. All that was washed down with a half ... yes a HALF ... bottle of fantastic vino rosso (red wine ... you know, the stuff that is so good that all you want to do is drown your nose in that wonderful aroma). It sounds simple I know and I don’t know how they do it but I could never reproduce a pasta meal like that at home. Some special company would have made it even better of course.
Having made your mouth water with that thought I’ll sign off.
Ciao for now.
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willem
non-member comment
Stand out in the crowd
Hey, you colorfull man, Now you really stand out in the crowd. Hope you can still do the things you want to do in Italy. No wheelchairs up Mt Etna, I reckon. Maybe some Canadian or other Sheila's to support you?