Regensburg, our first stop ticked off. One hour of the journey gone already. 10am. One & a half hours gone. 1030 Two hours gone. Plattling. A lovely, half-empty peaceful train so far. I’ve said it before, the ICE is one of the wonders of the modern world (Europe, anyway). On an ICE travelling across Europe, for however many hours, feels a real pleasure. The journey itself is a treat. We are really not picking up hardly any passengers along the way either. At Plattling and Passau the train draws in to an almost totally empty platform. How peaceful Europe feels compared to living in London!
I don’t think Europe or at least myself have got long before something truly horrific happens, so all the more impetus to travel more faster and faster and seize my erotic pornographic pleasures while I can, in Brussels, Nuremberg and Vienna, and Berlin.
OH HOW MY CONSTANT TRIPS TO EUROPE ARE ANNOYING THEM! REALLY DRIVING THEM CRAZY! What is he doing in Europe???
A very attractive black-haired policewoman going down the road, puffing on a cigarette. I don’t think the Metropolitan Police are allowed to do that. The fact that I’m sure the WSK hookers’ days’ are numbered might prompt me to return to Vienna much sooner than I otherwise might have. Is another of my favourite naughty places really about to bite the dust. I lost Fortuna Kino and Flying Scotsman in 2015. Surely I will lose WSK and Rue des Commercants at some point this year. I think as well as the emasculation, puritanisation, sterilisation, castration of old masculine Europe, we can say we are seeing the Islamisation of Europe. The French minister who brought in the law criminalising men who use prostitutes was Najat Belkacem, of Moroccan muslim stock. The mayor of Brussels Sint-Joost who has made the window girls close down at 11pm at night and on Sundays is Emir Kir, another person of Muslim faith. It was that —- Lutfur Rahman who stopped the male strippers at that White Swan gay pub in Tower Hamlets. Even Paul Convery who shut down every porn cinema in Islington & tried so hard every year to shut down the Flying Scotsman is married to a Muslim woman. I’m not sure who provoked the police raids of Fortuna Kino after all these years of harmless naughty fun but one would not be surprised to see an increased Muslim representation in the local Vienna government. This despite the fact when you walk up and down the windows of Rue d’Aerschot, probably 90% of the men around you are Muslim; about 50% of the men I see in Fifth Avenue are Muslim. When I am back in London, I could walk around the corner and have a pint in the Scottish Stores, the Flying Scotsman as was; how depressing would that be. Is there anything more depressing than seeing an establishment where I enjoyed some of the greatest naughty highs of my life, the “high nights that persuade us to put off suicide”, now turned into “respectable” establishments. All those crushingly depressing cocktail bars and sports bars in Stuttgarter Platz, the Gelado Cocktail Bar which once was Mon Cheri, Albert’s Bar which once was Starlight, Night Dreams and Golden Gate, etc, etc. All the sperm that was ejaculated in those bedrooms, all the orgasms, all the sexual spiritual highs.
On the way back from Vienna not only did I feel scared about arriving back in Brussels, but I also for the first time realised how incredibly vulnerable I was on those ICEs. Anyone could get a machine gun out of their bag and shoot us all, anyone could leave bags filled with bombs on ICEs all over Europe. Think it will be a very long time before I go on a long distance train in Europe again. Fear is so much in the mind though, like when I am on patrol in an empty building, and with other things on my mind I am fine, but once I start thinking scary thoughts I become terrified to walk around the building. Travel is the same.
That last Tuesday night in Brussels before my early Eurostar home—is there any way I can avoid staying in a hotel that night??? Realistically no! The melancholy moment. Sex, alcohol and gambling. On my first few visits to Europe, grand tours, it meant something to get to Venice, or to get to Neuschwanstein, or to go to The Third Man sites, pilgrimages, but now I just go for the sex, alcohol and gambling (I don’t gamble actually, but I see it as spending a lot of money and seeing if you are going to have a good time tonight or not, that is the gamble). True last year I found it incredibly moving to visit for the first time the Night Porter hotel building and the cafe opposite, and then to visit the site, knocked down and wiped out, of Milena’s apartment in Bad Timing. So I do still make some pilgrimages it seems. I wonder what ones are left that would move me like that? It always means a lot to see Richard Gerstl’s Laughing Self Portrait in the Belvedere, Vienna (the treasure of that museum, not Klimt’s The Kiss), and to see Die Sunde in Munich’s New Pinakothek. Anything new? One day I will have to get to the Brocken Mountain, and the Reichenbach Falls, but I don’t want to get there enough otherwise I would be doing so. In Brussels my lodestones are Tresors de Satan and La Figure Tombale now stranded in the awful Fin de Siecle Museum (where are the Delvauxs, the Dali, the Genie du Mal, Alfred Stevens Salome, all in storage, disgracefully, as they don’t fit in to the FDS or Magritte Museums which have swallowed up the space of the old all inclusive Museum of Modern Art which ceased to exist). I have applied for a 46 euro room in the Galaxy Hotel, very cheap and far from cheerful by the looks of it. It’s just for my last night stopover so a bed is all I really need.
Oh those legendary visits to Europe of yesteryear! The Night of the Snow in Munich when Patricia told me Bella Rosa loved me then I met Emily. The night Irina said she wanted to come back to the hotel with me. The night with Viktoriya. The night Patricia wanked me in the separee. The time I met Lotta in Vienna. The Pour Platin visit to Vienna where I lost my Vienna virginity in the snow. The nights in Berlin with Yulia, Riccarda, Iga, Diana, Olga & Alla. Even recently the nights in 5th Avenue with Julia and Andrea. The Vienna WSK Amanda and Fortuna Blonde visits. This year it has all been low key. Oh but that first night in Brussels in July with Beatrice, then up to Gare du Nord, that was sexy. Wish I could have stayed in Brussels. Monte Carlo in Berlin could have been better than I made it if I had let Vanessa get her breasts out, how amazing!