The sun is out and I’m wearing a dress, sandals on my feet. I know the lack of sleep must affect me somehow, but my weariness has presently been wiped away by the sound of running busses and a latte. Why did I never go to cafés in Belgium, book in hand, enjoying the solitariness? It seems to be a travelers trait and yet, there’s a man at the table next to me drinking a coffee and reading the papers like it's everyday business. Which it probably is. He seems a little disturbed by my typing, but I type as I talk. I feel more free in this country, different from my Belgian self.
I’m full of hope, today. I think it is the weather. It snowed in Swiss last night. The world is turning topsy-turvy. Why did it take me so long to discover lattes?
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