What you have heard of Portsmouth, it is true. I can't hold my head up as I walk the streets for fear of what I may tread in. One day...on a side street directly off of the main drag, I had the misfortune to see a woman squating behind a car to relieve herself (lots of open shops and pubs....lots of pubs...many, many pubs ...and all crap, but still she chose a car). I felt safer walking around a rough area of Glasgow (Pollockshaw) at night on my own, than I do during the day in Portsmouth. It is only in existence to give the saying "arse hole end of the world" an actual grid reference...
*sigh* I'm bored. And hungry. And still have 2 hours to go before I get home and cook a piece of ham, which promises to be ultra-delicious as it's proper Lincolnshire ham. *sigh*
Me three. Eating Dutch tonight, off to the Heineken Holland House which is the Winter Olympic base of one of the country teams, I forget which, but it'll all be orange. Tomorrow night off to the Sponsor Village, got a curling lesson booked.
Well what a gourmet delight that was (not!). I do like the way the Dutch get all exuberant when sporting occasions are involved. A big tent with an ice rink in the middle, bars and and hot dog stands round the outside, and the Winter Olympics AND Ajax-Inter on TV screens everywhere and a live band. Well, the Dutch have medals to celebrate. I wonder where the GB house is...