Somewhere near the top of an Alp, my phone bleeps at me, telling me that I've got voicemail. I quickly listen to a message from the woman handling our insurance claim for the flooded bathroom. Today, I sit in an annoyingly marmot-free cafe in Stuttgart, using my phone to respond to an email about a job offer.
I can remember when an international phone call had such a bad line that you needed to shout, was prone to random disconnection, cost a small fortune, and sometimes even needed an operator to connect it. And I'm not that old. What a fascinating modern age we do live in, and no mistake.
Incidentally, German drivers are crazy homicidal bastards. All of them.
I saw an amazing invention the other day, which was so amazing that it was completely stupid: a combination ping-pong and chess set. Yes, really.
Back soon.
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