TOUR DE FRANCE
What a bloody fuss about nothing! I heard someone say that doping should be made a criminal offence. Why? Let them all take as many drugs as they want if it makes them go faster, which is the whole point of the thing - or did I miss something? Far from being the end of the TdF, it could usher in a new era of performance-enhanced sport which might be slightly less tedious to watch on TV. Next item, please...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
FEEL THE HEAT
As I type, the fan is hissing away in the corner, making some currents in the air. Because they carry a little of the cool of morning, these are welcome relief from the heatwave. My shutters are closed to preserve what’s left. Outside, at 9am, it’s already 27 degrees and in the day temperatures have soared to 42 degrees in the shade. This means that most fans feel like hair-driers, and you start to go a little crazy. You’d give your entire salary for the week for a big, cool slice of watermelon; luckily, these are so plentiful that they’re almost giving them away. The other day, I went for an ice coffee but the outdoor café was deserted; it was too hot, even under the parasols. Nearby, people were standing fully clothed under some kind of sprinkler system.
All round the city, various stinks have been let loose: foul-sweet decay, a mild smell of sewage and something fungal. The sources of these are obscure, buried somewhere. If I arrive home without having done all the dishes and wiped all the surfaces spotless, there will be an army of ants massing on every wooden spoon and missed drop of fruit juice. It's the kind of weather to listen to Crosby, Stills & Nash. Or have a cold shower and then dry off in front of a fan.
As I type, the fan is hissing away in the corner, making some currents in the air. Because they carry a little of the cool of morning, these are welcome relief from the heatwave. My shutters are closed to preserve what’s left. Outside, at 9am, it’s already 27 degrees and in the day temperatures have soared to 42 degrees in the shade. This means that most fans feel like hair-driers, and you start to go a little crazy. You’d give your entire salary for the week for a big, cool slice of watermelon; luckily, these are so plentiful that they’re almost giving them away. The other day, I went for an ice coffee but the outdoor café was deserted; it was too hot, even under the parasols. Nearby, people were standing fully clothed under some kind of sprinkler system.All round the city, various stinks have been let loose: foul-sweet decay, a mild smell of sewage and something fungal. The sources of these are obscure, buried somewhere. If I arrive home without having done all the dishes and wiped all the surfaces spotless, there will be an army of ants massing on every wooden spoon and missed drop of fruit juice. It's the kind of weather to listen to Crosby, Stills & Nash. Or have a cold shower and then dry off in front of a fan.
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