The heart of wogdom

Five Wog is not a bad place to live. According to the census, only something like 11% of the locals are of Italian heritage, with another 6% or so hailing from Greece.

I can't help but think the census is undercounting just a tad.

One of the enjoyable things is walking through the shopping area and listening to people arguing in Italian. I don't know why, but I really like the sound of Italian. Half a dozen gentlemen of advanced pensioner age were sitting in the forum today, arguing away in the mother tongue. At least it sounds like arguing to me. One of them could have been asking the other what the time was, and recieved a perfectly civil answer, but it always sounds like an argument.



A new cafe has recently sprung up, meaning that I must visit it for a coffee sometime soon. If I can ever get in. From day one, it has always been packed. With arguing Italians. The footpath is filled from one side to the other with madly gesticulating men in expensive sunglasses, and a chair is never to be found.

It would make a great place to harvest a bit of wind power.