Hotel It Was Vibrant Some Time Ago, Turin.
The slightly tired sense, that would have been quite appropriate in a Bournemouth hotel around 1965, was welcome over the breakfast trough. This is a working day, so I was not myself pumping down the tucker, merely snaffing coffee & hot milk. And, rather than inappropriate rock music of three or four decades ago, a solo pianist given a brief to not disturb guests was succeeding admirably. Recorded when, I could not tell, nor what repertoire he was playing. The pianist was in the background, wurbling away. Once, I would have considered this inoffensive & unnecessary presence offensive in itself; were I still a young rocker I would have been angered. Now, given the alternatives for intrusive sonic pollution that we regularly & frequently encounter, give me the inoffensive pianist any day.
It is hot, very hot.