Every life has its punctuation marks, times when events conspire, prompting us to gaze inwards and wonder at the meaning of life. Such a moment was breakfast this morning as the last of the Weetabix, carried from the UK, was consumed. By Chloe. A father's love has no bounds, though his resentment may be tested. What will the breakfast of the future be on this Weetabix desert on the very fringes of Europe?
Nora is a beautifully situated ancient ruin, occupied continuously from the Phoenicians and Romans through to the Middle Ages. Its sometimes turbulent past was reflected verbally over lunch at the cafe.The language of violence comes easily to Chloe. Struggling to transfer her pasta from the plate to her fork, her frustration grew with each attempt to spear her favourite carbohydrate based foodstuff. 'Stab. Stab. STAB. STABBY. COME ON. COME ON.' At full volume. We can only hope our fellow diners had a limited grasp of English.
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