About one in ten Polish men look like Freddie Mercury. Bedraggled moustache, poppy eyed - but the uncles look scared, too. Shoulder and upper arms with muscles gone to seed.

Then on Saturday, in the lift, I met a Slovakian uncle. The sight of him reminded me I wanted to write a post about Freddie)s Slavic relatives.

As soon as I got into breakfast, the radio played "We are the Champions". Unnerving. During the rest of the day thez played at least more Queen tracks. Was it an anniversary? Was it - or me being sznchronisitous?

I know what the one, clearly AM, station plays because you cant get away from it. Sting is singing to me through a tinz speaker as I type this. He would be singing to me in every shop in town, in every treatment room in the Clinic, in the restuarant, in the station... Two thirds of the playlist seems to be a direct copy of Radio 1 circa 1980. Or as they say in Slovakian, +ναι. The sound quality competes with the best "your call is importnat to us" call centre music.

Anyhow, talking of Queens...

I went up a furnicular railway yesterday, and began a walk in the mountains. Just before I left the cafe area I passed a group of Americans and realised I hadnt heard "native" Enlglish spoken for a week. I felt almost miffed that I had I had heard some now. Still, I thought, I bet Brits tend to be so unadventurous. I bet no UK passport holder has been up here for some time.

Oh, hubris.

Perhaps no passport holder. But on the very next wall I passed there was a plaque, celebrating tthe visit to the High Tatras, in October 2008, of her maj Queen Elizabeth 2.