Ever considered what it would be like to hit a blancmange at 25mph? I’m about to find out what it’s like. The blancmange in question stinks of fudge.

Inevitably, Brussels-bound, I am talking about travelling to a “momentous”, “game changing”, “historic” moment in the history of Europe. A great summit of eurozone heads of government, summoned to resolve the gathering and ever deepening eurozone crisis.

The finance ministers of the self-same states should have been in session this morning, but they never left base camp. They could see the political avalanche rolling toward them from higher up the mountain.

Greeks and Italians seem to be speeding it on its way down the mountain – indeed, the grinning face of Berlusconi can be caught in the flying debris from time to time.

The British are struggling around on the edge of the piste shouting orders but with no skis on their own feet.

I cannot remember in my life as a reporter, any financial crisis as bad. I cannot remember looking forward and not knowing where on earth the world will be by Christmas.

I’m going to be diving around Brussels and the summit centre and will blog again later. But in the meantime I’ll try to keep info flowing via Twitter.

Perilously close to Brussels now on the Eurostar – and fudge stink is almost suffocating. If you have the stomach, read the great, and all too frequently correct Iranian-American economist  Nouriel Roubini in the The Australian today.

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