More from Italy: I'm just a love machine

- Did I mention the porn machine? The first few times I passed that gas station, I was thinking, "Hmm, I could stop by and pick up some snacks on the way back to the Media Village." Then I went and took a look. Didn't see any Cheetos.

Funny thing is -- this is just two blocks away from "Tabu Sexy Shop." What can you expect from a country that stocks its Media Center's general store with no throat lozenges and eight varieties of condoms?

- I'm a little less afraid of the Polizia, the Carbinieri, the Guardia di Finanzia and all the other people whose uniforms and general manner suggest, "You know, if we want, we bash your head. No one care. We bash head." A couple of them came up to me a little perplexed yesterday as I was walking from the train station to the Media Village, but they were excitedly giving me directions (thanks, but I've been there eight times now. I can actually SEE it from here) and say, "Pin? Pin? You change. You change."

I'm actually out of pins from my own news organization now, having given a couple away to people who are so nice about giving me things I pay for such as milk or biathlon tickets. But these guys seem a little more human now and a little less like marauding bands with guns.


- I pass this park every day, and it still puzzles me. This is an unused monorail (what's that sound? MONORAIL!) that was dressed up at the last minute (Thursday). A couple of days later, the star in the middle started turning. It looks like it's designed to pull water from the pond and have some sort of cascading effect, but the arms don't reach the water! A couple of TV crews do stand-ups by the side as if this is some sort of central gathering place (it's next to the Palavela for figure skating and short-track, at least), but the only people here are reporters heading to the Media Center or locals walking their dogs. So I like this park, but there's something quite strange about it.