Pig’s regulars are well used to the risks and terrors of Australian tourists displaying some of the less wonderful national characteristics. I’m not fond of the larrikan streak of disobediance unless of course there’s a figure of absurd authority deserving of it. In this case, despite our bicycle tour guide’s express advice that we may sit (but not stand) on the concrete objects that make up the Monument to Jews murdered by the Nazis, our tour group yobbo – let’s call him Brett (because that is his name) encouraged three other fucking turkeys to get up there with him.
He was wearing a checked shirt.
What more can I say.
Five hours of Brett was enough to encourage me to become an asylum seeker in New Zealand.
BTW, the tour was a complete blast, despite the yobbos and is highly recommended. The rest of the photos were of the tour guide – whom the lesser Emmlet found to be fascinating and a surprisingly good looking (for a former Mancunian) artist now painting as a member of the contemporary Berlin expressionist school.
But to finish on a positive note – well, another positive note, I was watching Arsenal play Man U in the cafe at Circus Berlin. No, sorry, they weren’t in the cafe, I was in the cafe. Another Aussie walked in and was recognised as a long lost pal by some ex-pats.
It was my old sailing skipper’s son. I went to this young man’s wedding four years ago in Vaucluse where he married his German sweetheart.
Pretty small world, eh ?
I was speculating with the first mate that the Gods are toying with me again.
Can I have a professional deitological opinion from ‘Mou, T2 and Glenda, please. Others may also put forward a plausible explanation.
Note: Like Julian, I have more than one Pig’s Arms T-shirt, and this one was definitely washed since the last post. (OK, Mom ?)
Note 2: I was a bit worried about the lack of a Kosher shirt, so I respectfully stayed outside. Did you get that , Brett ?