Otsustasin pärast laulupeoalase irisemise peale vihastamist jälle Eesti lehtede lugemisest loobuda. Ja vanad lemmikud ei lase pettuda, AA Gill:

I’ve often thought that Europe is an allegory for the ages of man. You’re born Italian. They’re relentlessly infantile and mother-obsessed. In childhood, we’re English: chronically shy, tongue-tied, cliquey, and only happy kicking balls, pulling the legs off things, or sending someone to Coventry. Teenagers are French: pretentiously philosophical, embarrassingly vain, ridiculously romantic and insincere. Then, in middle age, we become either Swiss or Irish. Old age is German: ponderous, pompous and pedantic. Then finally we regress into being Belgian, with no idea who we are at all.