On the saturday we took to the streets en masse, and some pictures of a sunset:

I fear to think how much it would cost to buy. This is the view from their bedroom window for a week:

One evening at dusk:





This tower housed a clock which had no face, but instead rang a bell every 15 minutes. It would chime a large bell to tell you the hour, followed by a smaller bell which would chime once, twice, or three times for quarter past, half past and quarter to. You could hear it at night if you left your window open, which we always did. It sounds like it would annoy you during the night, but I found it very restful:



My feet drying after having been dipped in the lake at the end of a long day with lots of walking:



This is Mohan, a straightedge hardcore punk Hare Krishna from Finland:



Trees and paths just next to the lake:

An impromptu class (actually more of a question-and-answer session) on the grass:



The person speaking on the left is my best friend who left for China two years ago. This festival was the first time I had seen him since.

The view from a random balcony:



A group of sannyasis (renunciates) giving class:



Where do these stairs go?



(Curiosity got the better of me and I climbed them to find out. Disappointingly, they went nowhere).

The gang at lunch:



No words for this one, just enjoy it:



Vamsi from Germany (left) and Sunanda from France, eating dinner:



I love the way my group of friends at these festivals are from all over Europe: france, belgium, germany, finland, switzerland. It is so nice to get out of your normal routine and hang out with foreign people for a while.

The gang resting on the second to last day. For some of them it was actually the last day, because they had to leave early.



Me wearing a dhoti, holding the camera with a shaky hand:



And from the front, with a steadier hand:

The park is by the lake, and it was a warm summer's evening. A group of musicians from our festival went and gave a concert of devotional songs:

Every time you turn a corner you catch your breath at the gorgeousness that is presented to you. It is difficult to believe that such a place exists.

I soon learned that I didn't actually need to walk up this alley to reach the hostel, but it was worth doing so anyway for a photograph:



After I moved from the hostel to the hotel, this was the entrance:



Now just how European is this?



The gang in a piazza; I think we might have been discussing going to get ice cream:



and in another place:



Roaming the streets:



Now we were definitely on a mission to get ice cream:



Anybody fancy eating out?



This was the road down from my hotel. The festival venue was just at the bottom of the road:



And looking back up it from the bottom one evening:



Me risking death by standing in the middle of the road:



Actually, given that the Italians are notorious for their lousy driving, in Verbania they are very calm and courteous. Although I did observe that a large number of the cars had scratches and dents. So I guess they are not particularly careful.

A roundabout, next to the gelaterie where we finally fulfilled our desire for ice cream. The road sign actually points to Locarno, which I believe is where Heidi and Call Me Wesley live:



Some streets:



The gang, on our way to the lake to go swimming. I did that four times in a week:



On a street corner:



Only in two countries, France and Italy, can you get away with driving something like this:



Mind you, with the price of petrol going the way it does, maybe future rednecks will drive pickup trucks like that too.

Road signs:



Everywhere you look there are reminders that Italy is the home of the Roman Catholic church:

I have no idea why a hotel is joined to a school. It just is.

I don't know about America, but in Britain you never see a school as well-kept as this:





Unbelievable, no?

Malpensa Airport is a very dreary place, but I spent more time there on my first day than I would have liked, so I ended up taking a picture of it:



After I finally arrived I was placed in a hostel a mile or so from the festival site. I only stayed there a couple of nights before I was offered a spare bed with a friend in a hotel much closer to the festival. But before that, this was my bedroom:





The best thing about the hostel was the view from our bedroom window:





Keep looking for more posts by me in this thread, where I will post more pictures as I upload them.

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseacti...

I'm trying to do something about my lonely life, really I am. I resorted to a dating site because it doesn't happen of its own accord. Everybody else who uses this site seems to rave about how good it is, how high quality the people on it are, how fast they get a result. I've been on it six months and met one person. And she didn't want to see me again after one meeting.

I don't get it. I don't know how to play this game of life. Do you get an instruction manual at the beginning? Mine got lost somewhere. I honestly don't know how to do this. It is a complete mystery to me. All my friends tell me not to think that there's something wrong with me, but obviously, clearly, there has to be. It's like the way a wasp is painted with black and yellow lines as nature's way of saying DANGER! DON'T TOUCH!! I feel like that. I've got a big warning sign painted on me, or just above my head.

If it's the case that you have to suffer the rejections before one person says yes, I say fuck it. My rate seems to be that I need to approach 1000 different people for one to like me. It isn't worth it. Women don't like me. Period. I need to just accept it and stop looking. And that WON'T be what makes it happens for me, so don't say it. It won't.

I quit. No more. I'm going to bed. Alone. Again. And for the rest of my life.

Goodnight.

I want to apologise to everybody, or almost everybody. I had a monstrously bad day yesterday and I blew my top in a big way. I am sorry.

I'm going to post and run. PM me if you want to speak to me.

Rich.

I was shaving my head when my buzzer broke on me and made a mess of my hair. There were visible lines gouged out and I looked like a ruffian. The only remedy was to get the razor out and shave it off completely. I have not been this bald in years.



I hope they don't mind at work. Oh well, it'll grow out soon.

How the fuck did I manage that?

More to the point, how the hell do I get it back??

I look for you
When I return
I try not to despair
I fear that you
Don't feel the same
I see that you're not there

I love you but
It's not enough
The way is hard to see
Others might
Fulfill their dreams
Their fate is not for me

It's not your fault
You did not try
To steal away my heart
It gave itself
To you despite
The fact that we're apart

It cannot help
Itself but turn
To you from here afar
You'll never know
I can't express
How wonderful you are

My fate, I fear
I must resolve
To face life without you
I think you will
Find happiness
I hope that I can too

Your friendship is
Highly esteemed
Of this please do not doubt
I may never
Be with you but
I cannot do without-

you.

I just went to the HP site to download the Vista driver for my all-in-one 1317 series printer/scanner/copier. One hundred and sixty-seven megabytes to download.