There was no banana for scale.
You'll have to imagine it.
We've been having some splendid weather here. Balmy-ish.
Quite unlike some parts of Europe and the States.
Please don't come, we're not dressed.
Actually, we never are.
Imagine me swanning about in a bathrobe over a leopard-print Speedo in my sun-drenched apartment, la la la, while lazily scratching myself and wondering which briar pipe to fill with tobacco next, while drinking a hot mango hazelnut frappucino and saving the wales, and you'll be not far from the truth. As I said, not dressed for the tourist trade.
A sore sight for the eyes. You are not ready for this.
Again, not dressed.
THE BEAUTIFUL TROPICS: SVALBARD
Normally at this time of year I'm battling the elements and cursing the rain, well overcoated and wielding my umbrella in such a way that the wind gusts neither rip it out of my grasp nor invert and strip it. But it's calm outside at present, the temperature will be around sixty most of the day, and this is quite do-able.
The weather has been a little off-kilter this year, evidence of creeping climate change, which doesn't exist according to the culture commissars in Florida and Texas. Neither does cancer-causing pollution, and I note that ALL the highest cancer rates are in the red zone, which of course is just a woke plot to sap the vital juices of red-blooded Americans in the heartland. Kentucky, Florida, Louisiana, and Texas -- all healthy living made manifest!
Another good reason not to visit us. We live in a bubble of reality.
In addition to cuisine, culture, and widespread literacy.
It would dangerously shock your belief system.
Remember, fluffy bathrobe and a leopard print Speedo.
Both constricting and revealing.
Degenerate!
Mmm!
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