A Marmot for Gary Glitter

You're a dodgy lot. I'm slowly developing a profile of my typical blog reader. My last entry, the one that mentioned Josef Fritzl in its title, was my second most read post since I began. The only thing to beat it was the one a few months back entitled "My Life As Fred West". You see a pattern emerging here? Yes, me too. I haven't worked out yet whether you're darkly fascinated by murder and sexual abuse or whether you're actually looking for tips on how to construct a soundproof cellar or lay a decent patio. Anyway, the mention of Gary Glitter in this post's title was bait. And it lured you in, didn't it? You sick, little puppy.

I'm in a strange place right now. I don't mean emotionally. I'm not that complex. I mean my location. I'm staying in a typically Austrian Gasthof - y'know, all timber and pretty, little flowers spilling from the balconies, dispensing schnitzels and leberknödelsuppes to the locals - except that this Gasthof is run by a Chinese family. It makes a nice change. It's like Heidi meets Bladerunner. And, not surprisingly, they do Chinese food too. For lunch I've just had their Eat-All-You-Want buffet. All I would say is that you should read the labels of the things you put on your plate carefully. Garlic sauce and battered bananas isn't a winning combination. Incidentally, Eat-All-You-Want is not the same as the more American concept of Eat-All-You-Can.

Anyway, I've reached the end of the road. I'm in Zams, Tirol. There's only one sensible way out of this place and that's the way I came in. If you want to continue west you have to go over a 1800 metre pass or burrow through a thirteen kilometre tunnel. As a cyclist I'm not allowed in the tunnel and so your deductive powers have already told you my way out is going to involve pain. At least though there's something to look forward to on the other side of the agony. Well, several things. In five days' time, I meet The Lovely Nina in Zürich for a few days of intense joy before she heads back to Spain and I fly to the UK for a week-long Open University maths residential in Nottingham. I'm particularly looking forward to the exercises involving curves. And the residential should be good too.

But before then I get to meet Elli, OU graduate - definitely graduate and no longer a student, she insists - in Switzerland. Just as my cousin Sarah removed all the pain from the French round of my Eat Something Stupid challenge by getting her hubby to lovingly cook up that poo sausage, Elli's made my life easier too. She's only gone and 'acquired' a bloody marmot, hasn't she? I don't know whether this means she's been secretly out in the hills with a rifle or just that she's a particularly clumsy driver. Not only will this be the first marmot I've eaten, but also my first ever rodent. This is big! About 28 inches long, but I didn't mean that. It's one thing to eat a new species, but Rodentia is a brand new order! Rumour has it that marmot doesn't taste that great. Even better. This was never supposed to be easy.

But why am I telling you all this? You're not interested. All you want is stuff about Peter Sutcliffe or that German cannibal who cooked and ate the other bloke's penis, isn't it? And you'd probably prefer it in the form of a poem, wouldn't you? OK then, just to try and appease you I'll give you a limerick about Gary Glitter and marmots:

I don't know whether it's clear,
But Glitter likes games with his rear,
Even he lost the plot,
When he bought a marmot,
And sex advice from Richard Gere.

Happy now?

UEFA, Eurovision and Unemployed Paedos

What is Europe? For some, it's a rich and exciting mish-mash of cultures, proving how people from very different backgrounds can cooperate and thrive. For others, it's a place to go bright pink every summer with the opportunity to chuck up over a balcony. But which countries really count as Europe? For the most part there's no difficulty, but Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan are tricky. They appear in a few lists of European countries, but not most. To include their capitals would add 3,000 kilometres to the second year of my ride, which is already the longest by far. I'd also have to change the name to UniCycle53, which just looks a bit shit.

Do Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan really belong to Europe? Fortunately, someone recently posed this exact question at About.com. Unfortunately, it quickly descended into a racially motivated bloodbath, with those of European descent abusing those of Asian descent and vice versa and lots of people being called "fucking idiots".

Still, the discussion may have included some useful information and so we kick off with Basilio: "There is no question Armenia is European. To the jokers who claim Armenia is Asian it is just a stunt. Armenia's religion is Christian, its people are white, its culture is definitively European, it is a democratic country." But if all it takes to qualify for Europe is a white Christian democracy, then Australia, Canada, New Zealand and the United States are all in Europe. That can't be right. Bloody hell, discovering the truth this way could add light years to my ride.

And despite his beautiful name Vartan Mamigonian was no help whatsoever. In fact, he seemed to be in the wrong discussion entirely: "Turkey does not belong in Europe until it acknowledges the Armenian Genocide." Eh? How does 800,000 square kilometres of dusty lithosphere recognize a massacre? Can Kilimanjaro accept a compromise? Can the Thames Estuary appreciate a toasted sandwich? I'm not sure they can.

It soon became clear that what we needed was a definition for Europe. Ben Williams creates one of his own: "If Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia join in Eurovision then surely they belong to Europe? Does anyone else agree?" Well, to be honest, probably not, because singing "Boom Bang-a-Bang" in a squeaky voice surely can't define one's geographic location. Besides, the Vatican City never enters a song and it's unquestionably a part of Europe. That said, if they wanted to be represented in future contests by a like-minded artist, Gary Glitter's not doing much at the moment.

The conversation continued and P James chipped in with a warning against lazy, black and white thinking: "Everything in this world can't always be neatly pigeon-holed." But then he spoils it all by offering his own lazy, black and white, pigeon-holing definition: "However, the three countries are all members of UEFA and football is perhaps one of the most significant pillars of culture and the highest expression of nationality in the modern world." Wayne Rooney as Pavarotti. Interesting. But anyway, Israel and Kazakhstan are also in UEFA and their capitals would add a further eight thousand kilometres to my ride. Oh, this is hopeless.

David introduced yet another complication through the medium of excessive exclamation mark usage: "Georgia doesn’t have any similarity with Azerbaijan or Armenia! For me Georgia looks like Ukraine, Moldova and other European countries!!! As ethnography proves real Georgian man is white with bright hair and green eyes which is completely European!" So perhaps one of 'em is European but not the other two. Ah, bugger! But now I didn't care whether or not Georgia was European. I just wanted to go there and see those blokes with bright hair.

But in the end the wisest and calmest response came from Emil R. Pernsteiner: "There obviously is no correct answer other than by definition. And then it becomes 'whose definition'?" So it's up to me. I can decide who belongs to Europe. Sorry, Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan, but you're not in my gang. And if the next time you're at the Eurovision, a dodgy bloke in a silver suit asks if you want to be in his gang, I'd recommend you decline.