The Bulgarian mafioso* who actually owns next door's Little Portugal is currently burning wood on a bonfire in the back garden. I've had to close the back door and the back windows to prevent us being stunk out (but at least it isn't rancid lamb fat).
The wind is blowing in the direction of Colombia. I wonder how long the Colombian washing will stay on the line; or the Colombian backdoor will remain open? I must find out if the Australians and the French are as pissed off as we are.
What's the Spanish for Schadenfreude?
* did I ever tell you about how he beat up the Japanese man who was supposedly his friend/caretaker/tenant? Remind me to tell you the tales of Great Uncle Bulgaria of Balham.
