The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
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5:23pm on Wednesday, 26th July, 2006:
A woman hooked up to a drip, with an oxygen tank next to her and tubes going into her nostrils, sitting in a shop doorway begging. Now that's what I call professionalism.
Coffee at breakfast that's way better than anything I've ever had anywhere else, except for when I visited Pisa in 1984. My wife doesn't like it.
A public toilet that had no bowl, just a porcelein slab with a hole in it, for which the flush had broken, and in which a previous occupant had deposited the contents of his bowels such that it really needed a flush. Cost me 50 cents, paid to an indifferent man profoundly lacking in a sense of smell.
Seven adjacent petrol stations, one after the other in a row, with nothing in between, just as you leave Florence on the road to Siena. There are another 3 within 200 metres at one side and another one within 100 metres at the other.
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Copyright © 2006 Richard Bartle (firstname.lastname@example.org).