Gondolen

As always, Gondolen was wonderful. When you're that high up it doesn't matter how low you might be feeling. If only briefly, there is the city laid out before you, and for you alone. And there you are, pretending to crush tiny ant-people heads between your thumb and forefinger.

Add a plate of gourmet food to that and ten years' worth of birthday blues are blown away.

On our plates were a menagerie of delicacies: baby lamb, sander and scallops. But also gracing Andreas and I with its presence was the more elusive camel.

Seems that after the mandatory post-nicotine weight-gain, Andreas' dress pants did not fit him as well as they had last year. The buttocks looked allright enough. Andreas' regular visits to the gym had paid off in the form of two succulent, perfectly round orbs. Unfortunately the same went for the now too-tight front, also displaying two succulent, perfectly round orbs.

So all respect to Gondolen, their gustatory and olfactory delights which never fail to deliver, but the visual cake was taken by the camel toe.



(Wasn't as bad as this)