Buying Ecstasy De Panne

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Buying Ecstasy De Panne

Some 13 kg of cannabis, 1. An additional search was also carried out at the Saint-Gilles prison. Police forces identified and searched four production facilities, and seized a significant amount of drugs and cash: in total, 13 kg of cannabis, 1. Additionally, 12 people are suspected of drug trafficking, and seven of them have been placed under arrest. Credit: Brussels police zone South. Related News 'Absolute top priority': Belgium takes seven measures to fight drug violence Belgian police arrest 30 people in nationwide drug operation.

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Buying Ecstasy De Panne

Orvieto was out, and a nasty, hacking cough was in. I sucked down some cough drops so people munching their breakfast did not fear getting a case of Swine Flu. Tracy and I strolled through Trastevere…. It was rumored that at his lavish dinner parties, he would order his guests to throw silver and gold plates into the Tiber River. Chigi had put nets underwater so he was assured of never losing his dinnerware. Finding the villa turned out to be harder than finding his plates. We kept walking by where we thought the villa should be, but there was no sign. However, a friendly local pointed us in the right direction and through the open gate we went to the villa photo above from website. It was a nice minute diversion, the rooms were very colorful one room was painted by Raphael and his crew and soon we were on our way to our next destination. We hopped in a taxi to go see Tom Hanks. Well, we had just seen Angels and Demons not as bad as everybody said it was, by the way , and we were on our way to Santa Maria della Vittoria and another Bernini masterpiece man, did this guy ever get to sleep? Across the street was the Santa Susanna Church, which is sometimes used for papal visits. I was beginning to cough even more by now, so we left before the nuns told me to be quiet. We strolled down a lovely street with orange trees on our way to the Barberini metro station and ducked into a Pharmacia. We bought some cough syrup that I was sure would be useless, and tucked it into our daypack. As we stood outside the restaurant, a very nice man came out from a little produce stall to tell us that Colline Emiliane was closed today, but would reopen Tuesday and Wednesday for lunch and dinner before taking off for the holiday. We decided that we would return on Tuesday to see if the restaurant was as good as we had remembered. At that moment, the skies opened up so we ducked into a nearby store that had lots of goodies. They must have known our M. That was better than any cough syrup I thought, and also encouraged us to dip into our wallets for a small buying spree. We bought a couple of mini panettones, a bottle of olive oil, and, of course, a couple of small bottles of the aforementioned potent potables. These were all supposed to be presents for friends upon our arrival back home. Are you taking odds yet whether they ever saw their gifts? Soon we were back on the Via del Corso and something struck Tracy a thought, not an Italian. While I pondered the use of preponderance, Tracy pointed at the myriad of colored scarves, sweaters and ties in many windows, and lo and behold, they all seemed to contain the color purple. As we walked down one of the narrow corridors off the Via del Corso, Tracy got sucked in by a street vendor; a very nice lady who was selling watercolors. I was feeling kind of run down, but the thought of lasagna at Cul de Sac brought me back to life. It was quiet on this Monday afternoon, and my lasagna was terrific. We had some Rossi de Montefalco Lungarotti to go with the meal. Be still my heart. Soon, I was enjoying my third incarnation of Zabaoine, this time in ice cream form. As I sat there savoring every bite of this delectable dessert, I was unaware that within minutes I would be in danger. Over the Tiber we walked, ostensibly to head back to the hotel and drop off the groceries that we had purchased before heading back out. It looked like it had rained pretty heavily in Trastevere, although at the moment it was just a fine mist. As we walked on the Viale Trastevere, we came upon a tourist kiosk that was selling Roma Passes. Since we had three more days and the Borghese was on our agenda for the following day, I went in to pick up two as Tracy waited on the sidewalk. Picking up my pace, I was nearly back by her side when the world suddenly went upside down. Down Goes Frazier. Now, she is not the first person to ever verbalize that thought in my presence, but I will admit she is the first one to use it in the literal sense, because in an almost surreal Alfred Hitchcock meets Mel Brooks moment, I had slipped in a massive drop zone of bird poo. Quickly or as quickly as a year old klutz can , I stood up. The left side of my body looked suspiciously like the car I had photographed along the Tiber the previous day. I was, for lack of a better term, a poo depository. Tracy used an entire pack of Handy Wipes to make me presentable enough to show my face in the hotel lobby. Of course, the caked-on bird poo sticking to my pants and overcoat were a dead giveaway that something was just not quite right. I was feeling tired, my left wrist was banged up and now my swine flu cough was accompanied by bird flu poo. We decided to take it easy for the remainder of the afternoon, but I was concerned that I was getting really sick, because the cough seemed to becoming persistently worse. That would not have been good thing, because we had three full days left. After talking it over, at about 6 p. Although exhausted, we were by this time now also hungry. First, Tracy peered inside the mini bar to see what they had to eat. Zagat does not have a rating for this meal, however. Since cough syrups are usually useless, I at least hoped it would make me sleep peacefully for some of the night. Not being able to understand the directions, I took a large swig. Knowing we had trip insurance, which I believe provides free transportation for the body to be flown back to the United States, I told Tracy not to worry. Tracy followed suit soon after. I have no idea what the hell they put in the Brochenolo Tosse, but on this morning I am a believer. The rain was coming down pretty hard, so we took a taxi to the Ara Pacis Altar of Peace, unless you were an animal that got sacrificed here. Consecrated in 9BC, the altar is now housed in a new, temperature-controlled building. T he entry fee is 6. We were only in there about 25 minutes, because next on our agenda was one of our favorite museums in the world, the Galleria Borghese. We had 11 a. The last time we had been here we entered into the gorgeous Main Entry Hall, but because of the rain, we were led up the stairs to the paintings that, frankly, we were not interested in seeing again. Tracy and I were looking forward to seeing and hearing about that spectacular main entry hall again, so we hurried back down the stairs, through some rooms and came upon the main entry hall that was gasp cluttered up by a bunch of paintings. In the hall was an exhibition of paintings by Caravaggio and perhaps the worst artist in history, Francis Bacon. We were here for the sculptures. The Caravaggio paintings were fine to look at although I would have much rather seen the lovely entry hall uncluttered , but when I gazed at the first Bacon painting I thought I was having a stroke. As it turned out, it was just the figures he painted that looked like they were having a stroke. So instead of our beautiful, remarkable main hall, I was instead staring at faces of what people must appear to folks who smoke crystal meth. Since returning home I have read all the reviews of the exhibit, and how Bacon was a tortured soul after his lover killed himself. Oh well, we were able to enjoy the commentary and could sort of envision what this magnificent entry hall looked like from our last visit in Then it was on to many of the sculptures that we had been dying to revisit. This is another of those sculptures that we spent a lot of time looking at from all angles as Daphne is transformed into a tree. My assumption is that Apollo never really got to the root of the problem. We spent a little over an hour with the statues and then back out in the rain, through the Borghese Forest to a long walkway that heads to the Metro Station at the Spanish Steps. Eight years later, and the family-run place does not disappoint. It opened at and we were there at We sat at a table near the front, and the place filled up quickly with people with reservations. Of course, we had our Prosecco to start. Tracy had an insalata mista with carrots, tomatoes and watercress, while my salami platter was devoured the salami, not the platter quickly. I doubt you would be surprised if I told you I had a wonderful zabaione for dessert. When we left at the place was packed with a number of people waiting. I would highly recommend this place as a lunch or dinner spot make reservations. Hopping on the metro, our goal for the afternoon was to visit a couple of places that we somehow missed on our previous trips. Paul Outside the Walls. It is a couple of blocks walk from the San Paolo Basilica metro stop, and it is quite an imposing church the second largest in Rome after St. From the alabaster windows and mosaics to the gorgeous ceiling, St. The gorgeous mosaics on the facade overlooking the garden are really something to behold. We were then back on the metro headed to the Colosseo stop. We walked a few blocks to San Clemente. First, we went into the upper church constructed in the 12th century, but San Clemente is two churches in one, and the best part still awaited us. There are frescoes that tell the story of St. Clement and a shrine to the god Mithras, who supposedly was born in a cave and hung around with some all-male cult eating meals on stone couches. I wonder if they ever had a Pringles and panettone dinner. Outside, the rain was coming down hard, so we grabbed a taxi big error. Traffic was horrendous and as we sat and sat the meter went up and up. We finally had him dump us off wherever he could near the Tiber. We walked across the bridge and soon we were back at the booth where I had bought the Roma Passes the previous day. To say that I walked a leisurely and careful pace would be an understatement. Today, the poo was no match for Maitai, but I did feel that some birds were looking down at me laughing their beaks off. It actually felt warm outside. In a Paris Hilton minute we were back in the hotel jettisoning some clothing and shortly thereafter we set off for the Pantheon area. Armando da Pantheon was packed throughout the evening, and sad-faced, would-be guests without reservations were turned away in droves that evening, so reservations for this popular dining place are a must. The duck consisted of two legs only, and the duck must have been a Super Model, because there was not a lot of meat. Photo below courtesy of italianrestaurantsandrecipes. I, on the other, could not complain about my Gnocchi with blue cheese followed by beef with green peppercorns. I now had two mistresses, Zabaione and Panna Cotta. It was like being the star of Big Love, only with desserts as my wives. Outside, it was like being in Southern California, only with old buildings and no drive-by shootings. The weather was downright balmy well, the 50s felt balmy after so many nights of freezing our butts off. We walked through the flea market to get some night fountain pictures, and people everywhere seemed to have an extra bounce in their step. In any event, we needed to get our sleep, because first up on the agenda for Wednesday would be exploring the treasures at the Musei Vaticani. We would also be crisscrossing Rome as our time in the Eternal City was winding down to a precious two days. Related posts. Chapter Five — Arrivederci Roma. Hello Trouble! Read more.

Buying Ecstasy De Panne