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The end of the week was a long time coming, which made today all the more welcome. In fact, I think it was a pretty long week for us all, largely on account of the fact that we were listening to David Hasselhoff, which is pointless as only Germans can hear it. Kind of like the way only dogs can hear dog whistles.

Anyhow, today was spend in Wimbledon. Not watching tennis, but kicking back in a jacuzzi, alternating between Pimms and champagne, which are fine on their own but turned out to be a rather grotty combination by the time we were mixing them in the same glass.

I guess there was 30 or 40 of us, and a good mix of people, although we were massively outnumbered by the swarms of flying ants that burst out of the ground with exquisite co-ordination and spent the next four hours alternately crawling up out necks and dropping in our drinks.

In the middle of the garden was a very bizarre sculpture - a pair of buttocks, effectively rising up out of the lawn like someone had been murdered and the killer done a bad job of hiding the evidence. It was strange enough in itself, but doubly bizarre when it became clear that it was also the source of the nest, and had 50,000 queens emanating from its crack.

I was lucky to get there at all, having arranged to meet Ross at the station and then forgotten to bring the directions. After half an hour of aimless walking, we eventually found it, having passed a stupid man having a barbeque on his balcony and letting the smoke gush in through the open windows of the flat above, and an insane man on a street corner who bade us good day and asked how we were. As we left, seven hours later, he was still there, still wishing us a good day and still wanting to know how we were.

Oh, and a man on the high street who wanted to give us

This entry was posted on Saturday, July 17th, 2004 at 11:49 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.