300 glasses of white wine. That is – not even so rough – what was drunk on the sunny terrace of Knokke yesterday. And this weekend, with again radiant sun, that will certainly not be less. “It feels like July 7,” the boss of the Carlton shines in the fashionable Knokke. We were there an afternoon between the thirties with linen pants and the tearoom elderly people who still arrived their fur coat. Of course it still remains only March 7.
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