First Vancouver then Berlin. ooops sorry, Havana
That is as the Lonely Planet guidebook suggested. It was either the Canadians or the Mexicans and well, candidly, how was Burgess to trust either?
Coming from the wintery climes of the Tasmania, he felt comforted that even if they were untrustworthy, he would at least be like them....[are you with me? The Canadians].
His British passport still held currency, literally and metaphoricaly, as he worked through the customs immigration, and anti terrorism and anti money laundering bureaux in his own country. Why was he so little trusted? Did his name mean nothing now? Was his name even on his passport?
But wait, we have gone too far ahead. It was only last night that he dined in the North Shore Tapas Bar with 'Sol' and his newlywed, Anitro Glycerine. What a powereful combination! "The white bait, is it akin to the swordfish I had in Drobovnik last Sunday?" ....Sol enquired of the unwitting waitress. "Oh it is our best, Anitro brings it in smuggled in her mother's brassierre - she is only a size 32 but when the fish is implanted, a 48, they say..." .
A rare photo of Rosa of Geneva, debating the swordfish with Anitro Glycerine and Sol of Sydney
The fool, these secrets are for dining on after the event, not at the time, and certainly not whilst we have achieved 'high alert'.
The single room in the waterside hotel was all Wormold -sic - the Author - could afford. The money from HQ was slow in being recognised by his bank. After all, they had protocols too. Had they not learnt by deception that paying out quickly meant 'risk, risk, risk' - with a capital 'rrrr'?
The morning train was, as usual, full of the usual hotchpotch of Sydney thieves, hands in each others' pockets, in that circular way that money begats money, begats money ad nauseaum. Lawyers, merchant bankers, politicians.
He was disgorged by the smoking train into the cesspit of the Macquarie Infrastructure Fund owned Sydney Airport. "What happened to community service" - he asked. The janitor replied "The directors are all in gaol, insolvent trading since conception, that is, in the womb!"
The vodka should have been rum. They know not of such flavours outside of the Havana, and the Santiago, Santa Clara, Cienfuegos. No, not for the Russians (how WAS he to know she was with the Russians too? After all the lights were out in the cinema, and the rouble is the same as the peso at Trader Vics).
A change of identity
By due departure time Vancouver, the hoarse (or is that 'horse'? - why the long face?) throated super vixen strangled over the microphone that 'AC34 is on time'. What had she been smoking? Don't blame the Thumper, he is in Vietnam and beyond jurisdictional reach.
But what of the overrall plan? In the language of the Tasmanian civil service, how were the Team meeting their aspirational targets? What was the score on the Briggs / Meyer test? Did they, the square pegs, fit nicely into round hole (or is that round peg into a square hole?).
The Aeropuerto was still some 20 hours in the future. No time to watch "Budapest Hotel" (well, in fact there was and it is highly recommended).
Back to Havana; the enigmatic and detached, perhaps even isolated vacuum cleaner salesman from Hobart, stradling the Pacific, approaching his ever reliable Santa Rosa, was preparing the manifesto for the grand deception of the ASIO. He was in fact going to bring back the map of the whereabouts off the ICBM silos.
sccchreech, squaarrrk.....radio communication down.......interference [not in the Bishop/Actress meaning of that phrase....which reminds me....]
The Actor and the Bishop: is there room for religion in the modern Communist State?
Coming from the wintery climes of the Tasmania, he felt comforted that even if they were untrustworthy, he would at least be like them....[are you with me? The Canadians].
His British passport still held currency, literally and metaphoricaly, as he worked through the customs immigration, and anti terrorism and anti money laundering bureaux in his own country. Why was he so little trusted? Did his name mean nothing now? Was his name even on his passport?
But wait, we have gone too far ahead. It was only last night that he dined in the North Shore Tapas Bar with 'Sol' and his newlywed, Anitro Glycerine. What a powereful combination! "The white bait, is it akin to the swordfish I had in Drobovnik last Sunday?" ....Sol enquired of the unwitting waitress. "Oh it is our best, Anitro brings it in smuggled in her mother's brassierre - she is only a size 32 but when the fish is implanted, a 48, they say..." .
A rare photo of Rosa of Geneva, debating the swordfish with Anitro Glycerine and Sol of Sydney
The fool, these secrets are for dining on after the event, not at the time, and certainly not whilst we have achieved 'high alert'.
The single room in the waterside hotel was all Wormold -sic - the Author - could afford. The money from HQ was slow in being recognised by his bank. After all, they had protocols too. Had they not learnt by deception that paying out quickly meant 'risk, risk, risk' - with a capital 'rrrr'?
The morning train was, as usual, full of the usual hotchpotch of Sydney thieves, hands in each others' pockets, in that circular way that money begats money, begats money ad nauseaum. Lawyers, merchant bankers, politicians.
He was disgorged by the smoking train into the cesspit of the Macquarie Infrastructure Fund owned Sydney Airport. "What happened to community service" - he asked. The janitor replied "The directors are all in gaol, insolvent trading since conception, that is, in the womb!"
The vodka should have been rum. They know not of such flavours outside of the Havana, and the Santiago, Santa Clara, Cienfuegos. No, not for the Russians (how WAS he to know she was with the Russians too? After all the lights were out in the cinema, and the rouble is the same as the peso at Trader Vics).
A change of identity
By due departure time Vancouver, the hoarse (or is that 'horse'? - why the long face?) throated super vixen strangled over the microphone that 'AC34 is on time'. What had she been smoking? Don't blame the Thumper, he is in Vietnam and beyond jurisdictional reach.
But what of the overrall plan? In the language of the Tasmanian civil service, how were the Team meeting their aspirational targets? What was the score on the Briggs / Meyer test? Did they, the square pegs, fit nicely into round hole (or is that round peg into a square hole?).
The Aeropuerto was still some 20 hours in the future. No time to watch "Budapest Hotel" (well, in fact there was and it is highly recommended).
Back to Havana; the enigmatic and detached, perhaps even isolated vacuum cleaner salesman from Hobart, stradling the Pacific, approaching his ever reliable Santa Rosa, was preparing the manifesto for the grand deception of the ASIO. He was in fact going to bring back the map of the whereabouts off the ICBM silos.
sccchreech, squaarrrk.....radio communication down.......interference [not in the Bishop/Actress meaning of that phrase....which reminds me....]
The Actor and the Bishop: is there room for religion in the modern Communist State?
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It is said the fabled radio evangelist, "Nigeria" Ted Armstrong, is hiding out in Havana waiting until the late Warren Zevon has another No. 1 hit song. He may be there a while - unless our man (while) in Havana can smoke him out. "Werewolves of Matanzas - Hmph! I'd like to meet his tailor!"