Fruity language

Well, since I last wrote, which is about five years ago now, a lot has happened. I bought a new hat for a start, though fashion instead of practicality guided my choice and I found myself at the top of the Jungfrau mountain in Switzerland wearing what I can only describe as a cross between a Panama and an old skool ravers hat (it had to be seen to be believed – I bought it in Italy, I thought that must count for something).
Besides my fashion dilemmas I’m quite enjoying showing these antipodeans around this gloriously diverse continent that is Europe. It’s diverse in many ways; food, architecture, people: I can’t believe how many beautiful people live here; those Croatian women are fantastic, straight out of Vogue, the Dutch out of Vanity Fair, and the French out of Littlewoods.
Another difference is weather. One day I was in Corfu and it was 79 1/2 degrees Celsius and a few days later I was in Amsterdam and it was minus 20. I didn’t realise how tanned I was until I dropped a banana on my arm and it shone like neon.
There are many neon signs in Amsterdam, not all of which advertise bananas, and the ones that do tend to refer to the unconventional use of the fruit in a particular type of show they have on offer in the city. Other neon signs I noticed said ‘Coffee Shop,’ a guise for marijuana sellers. The Dutch should change the names of such establishments to something more obvious. For the uninitiated this can be quite misleading on a literal level, in much the same way as a blowjob.
Generally though the Dutch speak very good English, perhaps the best in Europe. The main accent I seem to be hearing of late however is that of the Australian. There was one girl who, every time she spoke sounded like she was whinging, then I realised that she was. ‘Are we there yet?’ ‘I need the toilet’, ‘Why’s it so expensive here?’ and so on. I offered to buy her a drink at one stage to try and divert her concerns but she turned down the offer on the basis that drinking would only mean that she would need the toilet sooner. Jeez, they never moaned this much on Neighbours.
I love the clients though. I’m learning a lot from them just as I hope they’re learning from me. I was telling the group how that, in Vienna, if the water in the Danube canal looks blue, it means that you’re in love. On seeing the canal one young lady suggested that it looked brown and then turned to me and said ‘I feel so alone.’ The innocence of her soul touched me, then she asked how long it would be until she could shop. I told her I had a very nice Italian hat for sale.