The End of Hermione H-C

It is with great sadness that TB has to announce that this will be Hermione's last posting from the heart of darkness. The powers that be eh...

Another week, another Strasbourg. I was in England last weekend too, so no time to go to the dry cleaners; this is getting stressful! Suddenly I have newfound respect for all those vacuous stars in Hello! - it must be quite trying, constantly living out of a suitcase. Maybe they're worth their outrageous salaries after all... then again, maybe not. I could buy Rococo a dozen rugs for the price of one of their dresses – BUT, I digress. Straz weeks are, by their very nature, much faster paced and therefore more exciting than Brussels weeks. Plenary happens, so there's the interest generated by the votes. Lunches and dinners are often social affairs and offer opportunities to really talk shop – as everyone is staying in a hotel, there's incentive to eat out. I suppose there is an element of novelty too, and then there's the fact that the offices are smaller – assistants and MEPs sharing the one room, which gives a less formal, more 'communal' feel. You often see groups of MEPs in one office merrily chatting away about some point or other, which just doesn't seem to happen very often in Brussels. I might add here that whoever designed the buildings in Strasbourg was an evil genius. It's hard to do justice to the layout in a purely descriptive way, but if I say 'imagine one of those Escher pictures with the impossible stairs', you'll get the idea.

Anyway, last weekend all of us in the anti-federalist camp were rather deflated by reports that suggested Klaus would be signing the Lisbon Treaty within a fortnight or so. It all seemed so bleakly final. Little wonder, then, that any rumours that it was not so (and there were many) were flying around throughout the corridors and lifts like something out of Harry Potter. Could Cameron really be in extended talks with those in Prague Palace? Could that shiny red retro phone sitting on Hannan's desk really be a hotline to the man himself? Could the 'train that has gone too far' really be stopped and put into reverse? Time only will tell. Call me the eternal optimist, but I'm holding on to the betting slip I bought in Dan's latest sweepstake (honestly, that boy should have been a bookie), that says he'll not ratify before the election... That may well prove be two euros badly spent, mind...

Events in the Hemicycle are always talked up as being utterly gripping when the reality is often somewhat different (albeit that the voting is astonishing in it's sheer pace pace). But this week those flowery epithets were well deserved when the left tried to force through a declaration denouncing the Italian Press as corrupt. As it happened, I dined on Wednesday night at a charming Indian restaurant with a few Italian friends who were understandably livid. We had to cool them down by feeding them raita (which they'd never heard of. Apparently they don't really 'do' Indian food in Italy). I sadly missed the event itself but it seems to have been nail biting stuff. First came the detailed votes which the left kept winning, often by a majority of only 10 – 20 or so. By the time they drew to an end those on the left were unable to contain their glee, verily bouncing around in their seats, clapping and cheering. How uncouth. However, the groups had gone for, as one chap later put it to me, 'nuclear options' – all or nothing votes. Five lefty liberal groups = five more votes. Not everyone in the Hemicycle appeared to know this; some on the right disappeared at that point thinking the voting over. Nonetheless, curiously, one by one these nuclear options were defeated, albeit with slim majorities. One, two, three, four, all fell by ever decreasing majorities, until only the ALDE challenge remained. Ukip accidentally abstained. Others had not voted. The count came in. 338 / 338 – the motion fell, the 'No's had it, and the right was victorious. Later that evening, I introduced the Italians to the delights of Indian food, and we celebrated with poppadums and beer.

Sadly, as I draw to the end of this blog post, I must step out from behind the laptop, shake off the mantle of Hermione, and speak as myself. This week has been rather dramatic for many reasons – Lisbon, Italians... and on a more personal note, this blog. It has come to my attention that friends of mine have been warned to distance themselves from me for fear of 'being tainted'. I am always happy to take full responsibility for my own actions, but I draw the line at asking others to shoulder a burden of responsibility that is not their own.

When I first came to Brussels I knew almost nothing about the European Institutions. I had a vague notion that a Parliament existed, but I couldn't tell you how many MEPs represented the South East (my region), let alone name any of them. To me, Europe was 'that issue that the Tories used to argue over, but has been largelyresolved by now'. So, although this blog, when pitched to me, was intended as a sort of 'gossip from the front line' of the European Parliament, I have in fact been attempting to use it to make the European Parliament just that little bit more accessible. By bringing a bit of light banter to proceedings, I'd hoped to turn names and pictures on a website into personalities, with all their quirks and foibles. Unfortunately, that is not the spirit in which some people in the Parliament have read this blog, and so for that reason, and with great regret, I must draw it to a close. But I have enjoyed writing it, and so I shall return to my hitherto rather neglected own blog (I do hope Tory Bear won't grudge me a quick mention!)

donnaedmunds.blogspot.com

, and do hope you'll take a look every now and then. Just not in the next few days – I'm going to be in Israel.

A bientôt! (Did you hear that accent? My dishy tutor Phillippe would be so proud!)

Donna.