There’s a full moon tonight. We get two reflections, one this side of the Cap – more about the Cap sometime – and one on the other. And I guess, since the moon itself is only a reflection, that makes four. Something to reflect on. I take out the telescope she gave me a couple of birthdays ago and marvel at the crevasses and craters and think how people must have dreamed for centuries about going there – and once someone did, the media forgot about it in 3 days and now no one dreams about it any more.
There are lots of strange features about this town. The Post Office takes two hours off for lunch - except on Thursdays (pay day), when it closes for 2½ hours. The Post Office closes at 5.30, but the last mail is collected at 5.15. Thus when you bust a gut to catch the mail, limbo-dance under the iron grill and finally get your mail franked, they say, with an exclusively French kind of glee, ‘You do know this won’t go tonight, don't you?’
Another idiosyncrasy is that at all the pedestrian crossings in this town there’s a sign saying ‘IF YOU WISH TO CROSS THE ROAD, PRESS THE RED BUTTON’, and there’s a large arrow pointing to a button. But the button is not red, it’s green. Could this be why the traffic never stops?