Things I’ve learned from this trip: 1. Never go on a long train journey across Europe in summer

Things I’ve learned from this trip: 1. Never go on a long train journey across Europe in summer. The heat and often lack of effective AC on the trains make it too horrible. Stick to Brussels in Summer. 2. I won’t bother with Nuremberg again. There were AMAZING girls in Frauentormauer, but if I did nothing this time then I never will so no point. 3. I finally broke the ice with Inna, and that is such a relief. Like an Albanian Maria Schneider; an Albanian Selena Gomez.

I feel so at home in the Max Hotel. I really could live here

I feel so at home in the Max Hotel. I really could live here. If I was able to do that, I would be a happy man. Sadly, I do have to work in London—in a very lovely job. And yes the Cine Paris films have been crap again, the street girls have been crap again, the 5th Avenue girls are really crap, the Empire dancers are really crap—but it doesn’t matter; it is enough that these places exist. Finding the occasional diamond in these places is worth the wait. There was AMAZING quality in the Nuremberg windows and laufhauses and I did nothing with any of them. It is about finding places I feel comfortable, and I have that in Brussels. I will wait for the odd diamond to come to the surface; hopefully one day soon these jihadist losers will fade away and Brussels can really start to bloom & blossom again (erotically speaking). Berlin for me is dead, erotically speaking. When Stuttgarter Platz was wiped out, then for me Berlin was wiped out. The memories from those nights in Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri and Golden Gate in particular are so strong, so glorious. Munich for me is dead, erotically speaking, nothing on offer except 50 euro private dances! Waste of time and money. And Nuremberg I don’t think I will return to. So that leaves Brussels and Vienna. And from this week’s experience NOTE TO SELF—no more long train journeys in summer. So Brussels only for summer. Vienna can wait for winter.

Well the train to Frankfurt was pretty horrible. Sweating like a pig

Well the train to Frankfurt was pretty horrible. Sweating like a pig, there didn’t seem to be a breath of cool air on the train. A suffocating hot atmosphere. The train from Frankfurt to Nuremberg was better at least, the cool air hit me as soon as I got on. On the train home now—oops I mean the train back to Brussels; 12 midday. I didn’t do much on my one night in Nuremberg in the end. Foolishly I left the hotel too late and the Stage 2000 kabins were already closed! I had a couple of beers in Bella Napoli, then came back. If you like very big busted black girls then the Nuremberg windows are the ones for you.

Sweating like a little piggy, sweat running off my face, back in L’Orient Express

Sweating like a little piggy (even though I know, I know, pigs can’t actually sweat), sweat running off my face, back in L’Orient Express. 110pm. Hour & a quarter till my train to Nuremberg. I had the idea to leave my big bag in the Max Hotel locker and just travel to Nuremberg with a little bag of essentials. This gave me the freedom to WALK down to Le Coin and Midi. The usual tubby Moroccan girls, all pretty, lurid, with little paunchy stomachs, which is no problem for me; but I don’t think I will EVER do anything here. Just one beer and I was off again. I should have booked an earlier train—this is pointless this wasted 3 hours. Just drinking for nothing.

I was happy in Nuremberg because I spent my night in the superb videokabins of Caribic

I was happy in Nuremberg because I spent my night in the superb videokabins of Caribic; that made me bursting to f–k anyone, anyone would do, just to stick this throbbing pole into somebody (wiling, of course, and cheap). In Vienna I usually am left depressed and dispirited by the poor porn (disregarding what the ancient Chinese always used to say “even bad porn is good porn” or “no porn is bad”, depending on your translation). ML Revue kabins awful, Burggasse Peep kabins awful, and the Menzelstrasse kabins were awful and now the place has closed down altogether. That really leaves me WSK, and while it is good to have the floozies there, Jackie in particular, the films shown are often rubbish and so it was on all three visits. That meant I reached Manhattan, Tete a Tete and Exzess in already subdued mood. It is often the case in Vienna. Berlin is poor now since Stuttgarter Platz was almost totally wiped out, but at least it has excellent kabins in BEC (Eroticpoint) which make me really desperate to walk on to Sissi or Monte Carlo to do something (I usually don’t, but the anticipation is exciting enough). If only I could choose the films at WSK Vienna would be perfect. I have often been tempted to ask a porn cinema manager if I could.