One day, one day, I still want to go to the Reichenbach Falls, and the Brocken Mountain, and to Italy, all of Italy; and to Sils Maria. But for now my narrow erotic interests in quick thrills lead me always back to Brussels, and Vienna, and the dwindling last few red lights. I have lost much in London (Carnival, Astral, Sunset Cinema, Soho Cinema, Flying Scotsman, so many models’ flats), lost so much in Berlin, Stuttgarter Platz almost entirely, lost so much in Brussels, Cine ABC, California, Paradise, I must treasure the last few resources that are left before they too are gone. In Vienna already I have lost Fortuna Kino and Pour Platin.
Surely Paris in 20–? For Mona Lisa, and Musée d’Orsay. And Italy? For Lisa Gherardini’s house, birthplace, and grave. And just to BE in Italy.
I always think if I went to Italy (one night in Venice doesn’t count) I will be blown away by the beautiful women in the street; but until that day Brussels will hold the crown; with no other city even coming close. Oh Jesus, and there’s another one, as soon as I put my pen down and look up, there’s another one. Another casually 10 out of 10 fantastic nubile young Brussels girl. The thighs & bottoms, my god. And in winter, with everyone covered in big winter coats, that is all you can really see. But obviously that would count for nothing without the face, and the faces, my god. Such beauty. 1355. Third can of Jupiler. From the hotel machine this time, gratifyingly ice cold. Bravo. Funny I still feel no desire to go to Paris. I might love Paris as much as Brussels if I gave it a try. Mona Lisa, Musee d’Orsay, Napoleon’s tomb, Oscar Wilde’s tomb, Last Tango in Paris apartment; so much for me to see & do in Paris I would need to stay for a year. Italy & Paris, these are my two big unfulfilled ambitions. But Brussels and Vienna won’t let me go. Christ that Belgian police girl with the huge gun is so pretty.
This train I have boarded at Wörgl has come from Verona Porta Nuova. How romantic, exotic, thrilling. Leaving from the opposite platform 5 minutes earlier was the train for Venezia. Any train with an Italian destination name on it sounds thrilling. Stunning scenery around Wörgl and Kufstein, where we cross the border into Germany; gutted that my phone died before we got here and I cannot film it. Maybe I SHOULD come back this way before the trains go back to normal (will they ever). Ah found a seat with a charger but my luck it is on the side of the train with the bland scenery; the spectacular scenery is all on the other side; curses! That’s why I didn’t notice it on my way here. Just one more stop, Rosenheim, before we get to Munich. 1339 Rosenheim. Just 51 minutes into Munich. Oh the police have got on and turfed off 6 or 7 refugees without papers sitting right opposite me. We are going to be delayed now.
It may be Berlin’s last chance. If no good, that just leaves Brussels and Vienna, oh and one day a trip to Paris, oh and one day those German places, the Hercules in the forest, the Brocken, etc. Oh and one day that tour of Italy, sensuous voluptuous black haired Italy.
Yes I’ll go to Capri as long as I can go by train.
A tour of Italy would be great with —— actually. Long train ride from Brussels to Milan! Even longer to get down to Capri!