Documents on the I smile wearily and say, I don’t know you, but allow me to wish you Welcome to Madrid and Have a Nice Day. April 19, 2007 (Thursday) London (England) — Madrid (Spain A FRIEND has written from Hungary: “We’re about to watch the film of Hitler and Speer . It’s very strange to listen to his children’s opinion about their father and his life. It seems that they’re not proud of him at all!”
I reply: “All these children have been subjected to sixty years of brainwash. I have written in my memoirs about my father (whom I hardly ever saw) and mother only the best things. I have the most wonderful memories of both of them. I held my father’s hand all day on the day he died. When I have typed up my pages about Speer I will mail them to you.” A BAD day for rudeness. Starts well enough; I walk with the suitcase a mile up to the German embassy and I am there at 8:50 a.m.
I get the necessary signature notarized, and there is a £15 fee to pay. The cashier, a half-caste, snarls accusingly in German, “Don’t you say Good Morning then?” Taken aback, I reply: ” Für die deutschen Behörden habe ich heute morgen wenig Sympathie übrig .” He repeats, ” Good morning !” in a threatening way, and waits. I say quietly: “Just give me the change and receipt please.” ” Good morning .” Silence. ” GOOD MORNING !” he shouts.
I suggest he ought to behave better as a guest in another country. Turns out he is English. Hey-ho again. I walk