Alternate title: The G-man goes grande in Italia
To coin a phrase…..
…..a funny thing happened on the way…..
…..to Vicenza on the train in this instance
There he was, the G.-man leaning back soaking up
the sunshine and dreaming of all things Italian…..
Then a WOOF ! ! !
Holy macaroni ! ! ! ! !
The four-legged furry friend on his owners lap across
the aisle was looking straight at me…..
On the other side of me the G-moll giggled…..
…..the furry friend’s best friends smiled approvingly
Feeling very pleased with herself, the G-moll casually
‘I do a very authentic dog bark’
What had just happened ?
Was the G-moll harbouring dark, canine secrets ?
Or was it just an unusual case of aspergers ?
Fortunately our fellow travellers were getting off and
the G-moll reverted to English
It was a very surreal moment but it actually got a little
…..Noticing my savoir faire was slightly shaken she
followed up with…..
‘I can do cats, too’
She never told me this at the interview ! ! !
Anyway, Vicenza was beautiful and a few days spent in
the restorative embrace of the world’s only truly Palladian
city was a wonder
Back in Kent now…..
…..and back to dogs
Nigel Farage happens to come from the same hamlet that
the G.-man lives in…..
Having built a career nipping at the heels of the big boys ‘Nige’
suddenly finds himself being hounded by Fleet Street…..
…..but if you surround yourself with nitwits…..
…..you are leaving the goal wide open
If did, however, provide one of the most comical moments in
recent political history…..
…..namely good old Nige trying (and failing) to justify employing
his German wife as his (very well paid) assistant
He still gets my vote