Another thing that hits you when you arrive back in Brussels is the black faces all around you; you don’t see many of them in Vienna. And the huge-breasted black women. I do the L’Orient Express a disservice: as well as the trompe l’oeil bookcase doors at the back, they do indeed have some small shelves with real books; Norman Mailer’s Les Nus et Lus Morts II, and I, Emmanuel Robles La Croisier, Henri Thojat La Tete sur les Epaules, Collected Volumes of La Faure, a huge number of Frank G Slaughter books, and many many more; needless to say I have heard of none of the names I mention, except Norman Mailer. A really nice looking bar; and directly next door is the restaurant where I enjoyed a lovely chicken & chips on my way through here 5 days ago. Oh! I want to stay now! Forget about expecting anything from Fifth, Cine Paris or Le Coin, just drop in briefly, but spend most of my time around the Ibis like once before, in the Ibis bar, or the Orient Express, in the chicken & chip restaurant, or just walking around Gare du Midi luxuriating in the sexy girls. Vienna I think has to be over for a long while; at least a year I expect. For some bizarre reason the chicken & chip shop seems closed; the lights are on and the board is outside but the door closed; now I notice the board has gone too. 630 in the evening this should be their busy time. I was just going to praise the Orient Express for playing music videos on the TV but the manager has left the fruit machine long enough to change the channel to some talking programme.