During my recent European adventure I couldn't help noticing the BBC was running a poll for the Top Ten British Sit Coms. Voting is now in and apparently tonight (local time) Jonathan Ross will announce the winner. Averil will be watching and I agree with her it is a very hard choice with so many sentimental favourites to choose from. Personally I'd have bumped Blackadder out to number 11 and brought Father Ted in. Waiting in anticipation for the final result but the program advocates were most convincing. I watched the recent Ronnie Barker tribute program and hope it gets a run here in Oz. It was extremely moving and had some hillarious moments from his career.

Are retrospective posts allowed? Of course! There was a day whilst in Umbria, our first with the hire car, when we set out in search of scenery and found it here. We drove around the lake, and found more medieval structures and dwellings as well as a hospital located with one of the prettiest views you could imagine. In the same village was a public toilet which, according to Averil and Ross was better avoided.

Melbourne in autumn is a wonderful place to be. Just got back from a swim at the Doncaster pool where the warmth of the sun and the water were about the same. It really is a lovely time of year.

Driving home from Tullamarine airport in a taxi I listened to talk-back commercial radio on the topic of the terrible taxi service in Melbourne. I was going to say "Hey mate can you turn this up" but thought better of it. The caller who rang in recounted this story.
Caller: Yeah I'd had a few so I hailed a taxi and said to the driver can you take me to Keysborough? He wasn't sure of the way so he took out his Melways and I showed him the street and he drew a circle around it. I fell asleep and when I woke up the first thing I saw was a sign 'Phillip Island 10 kilometres'. I said, "Mate where ARE we?" He said, " I dunno."
Talk-back host: What did you say after that?
Caller: I couldn't say on air.
TBH: How much did the meter say?
Caller: Over $250.00
TBH: Did you pay him?
Caller: When we got back I gave him $60. I said I'm not payin' for your stuff up...

Incidentally I shared a plane ride with Barry Jones from Singapore to Melbourne. He in 1st Class moi in economy. My shameless eavesdropping allowed me to glean in the transit lounge that amonst other things he had visited Reggio Emilio on a fact finding mission no doubt for educational innovations.

Lucky me! This is still on and no amount of curiosity will induce me to go and see it. My own inclinations tempt me elsewhere.

I'm sitting in the 'Chances' bar located in a hotel in a city somewhere in South East Asia. This is one of those spots where guests meet for drinks, rendez-vous or wait for their airport transfer. I was checking my emails (an obsession of mine as Ross and Averil will attest) with the added bonus of bar service and - happity hocks for me - it's happy hour. Or so I thought until the couple singing got into full swing. He plays piano and sings. She sings. Her name is Emelda. As I sat down it was "Unforgettable...dat's what you are, and forebber more..." quickly followed by "Wooden Heart" (including the German verse sung with a Chinese accent) played with the built-in rhythm and baby grand set on 'swing' beat. "Fernando" with a twiddly piano instrumental , "Please release me", "Killing me Softly" (and soooo slowly)...OMG there's more...'Spanish Eyes'. THIS IS TORTURE OF THE HIGHEST ORDER!!!!!!!!!! I'd almost prefer the sleazy internet caf round the corner with the sticky, dirt-coated keyboards. Mercifully the live music's been replaced by tapes now, so I can enjoy my G & T in peace. Mmm.

Am Dienstag sind wir zu Luzern gegangen. The destruction of the bridge by fire in 1993, caused by a ship's funnel moored beneath, robbed the world of a series of 14th century paintings. A couple survived, some charred boards and the rest - gawn. Mt Pilatus overlooks the city which is populated by men and women, like those in Rome or Paris who are simply the last word in chic. The men are not only extraordinarily attractive but have the most alluring aroma - a scent which is distinctively Swiss and sexy as! We consumed eine meiste typisch schweizerische Mahlzeit - Fondue! Back in Rüti, a Tina Turner standard was playing on the radio. My hostess informed me that she, like so many others, is a Swiss resident. My final purchase was some delectable, (again distinctly auf Zürich) macaroons from Café Sprüngli for the folks in Den Haag.

My trip to Zürich was mit Swissair, the first in my experience where snacks/meals had to be purchased in hard currency (Swiss Francs oder Euros). There was a complimentary choc just prior to landing which was pure bliss. Regrettably I had left my essential communication tool at home in Kew, so a copy was purchased in order to facilitate conversation with my affable Leipzig-born hostess. She is a most energetic woman who met me at the airport and whisked me straight to Zürich bahnhof where we deposited my bags in a locker. Then an alpen zug to Uetliberg, the nearby peak which overlooks the city. Early March is still a time for snowsports, so skis, sleds and snowboards were de rigeur. Tramping boots also, and luckily I was equipped with a pair. After a short hike to the top Wir hatten Hunger so we lunched, Swiss-style with Wurst, Rösti und bier. Es war sehr lecker.
Walking down again after lunch was not so successful. Was it the beer? My first slip was a spectacular arse over tit. Fortunately my jacket is well padded. HOW EMBARRASSING! Within ten minutes another - this time - the splits. I can only blame the norabonesque element because my hostess was zipping along in these, through snow and ice!
Once back in die Stadt we strolled around the city and Zürich See, listening to an Aryan band playing this then home to Rüti.

Today the sun came out, the snow was melting. What better pursuit when in the Hague than to hire some bikes and explore? We rode along many sludgy paths, through thawing, snow-covered parks and fields where deer were roaming and eventually ended up back at the beach. The only logical thing to do was buy some freshly cooked fish and chips and soak up the atmosphere. Like any bike ride though, you have to ride back again. This was when the thigh muscles started to tense up and just when it seemed impossible to rotate the pedals any further, our destination - Centraal station - loomed into view. Recovery then included some therapeutic ciders at the local before staggering home to a lovely hot bath. Ahhhh.