Good morning fellow Adventurers!
Things are going swimmingly here at the Centre of the World (literally - the rain is falling in waves), and after 2 weeks with my nose to the grindstone I really ought to pop up with a report for the big knobs at HQ. I spent the first 2 weeks exploring town and settling into the offices of the Kings Inquisitors, where I spend my days interrogating hapless health databases. My colleagues seem to be a nice bunch, but I have to say I am rather taken aback by the fact that they are all Cambridge graduates! Except for one... who is from Oxford. And the fellows who aren't ex-Cambridge are all straight from the Upper Echelons of the National Broadcaster! Typical conversations in the halls of the Inquisition:
"I say, didn't you study at Cambridge!?"
"Why yes, I did - come to think of it you do look rather familiar, are you another Newnham girl?"
"Spot on dear!! I studied at Newnham too, don't you know! Super! When did you grace the esteemed halls?"
"Oh, back in '97, when Steamramm was the head"
"Oh yes, Steamramm, I remember her. She taught me a lot about... biomechanical engineering."
"Me too, eh. Would you like to adjourn to the bathrooms to discuss her methods?"
"Rather!!!"
&c. I do feel like the incongruous colonial oaf in the company of these esteemed scholars. I choose to see it as a reflection on the quality of classical education offered by the colonial state school system, but in order to fit in I have taken to referring to my old alma mater as "Oxford-on-Torrens". Most of the Inquisitors seem to have been fooled up till now. Benefits of a classical education, I suppose...
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6 comments:
Sound ploy, my dear fellow! I'd also slip in a few comments about "Old Buggers" or "Doctor Wapshott, you know, the Medicine-Ball chap" and the like. Guaranteed to fool the ill-informed boffin (or anyone who is stranger to these pages).
How are things generally in Albion? Over here in the Reich all is well. The weather is exceedingly clement, and one finds oneself fit to travel at all occasions. Now if I can only master the blasted language (verbs at the end, my arse!) I'll be hot-to-trot!
TTFN!
Well Mr. Nottlesby, things are going well at Inquisition HQ - a damn fine place to work, I must say. When it comes to funding Bright Young Things to Get The Job Done, the Inquisition doesn't stint, I can assure you! And London is a most interesting place ("diverting", I've no doubt Miss E would say), very busy and full of things to do. And I mostly have the hang of the lingo, though I've had to pick up a few new words and some obscure measurements (they still measure distances for their new-fangled automobiles in "Mazzlefwaps", or somesuch - 1.6729 kilometres to the Mazzlefwap, though only on a fine day).
Weather's appalling though!
I also read in the dailies that London is being attacked by gangs of marauding youths. Is this due to the weather, Sir S, or is it a sequel to that wonderful zombie talkie "Shaun"?
The standard response I give is....
"no, I went to the other one...."
Keeps them guessing eh what!
I rather fear the gruesome weather has strange effects on the soul, Miss E, and in time even those of the strongest constitution - that is, the Upper Classes and the Colonials - must succumb to its sinister ensorcelments. Therefore do we see the shambling hordes of the lower classes, struggling about the packed streets grunting the occasional "kno' wot ay meen?" and thrusting blindly into the darkness with their rusty kitchen implements.
Never fear though, chaps! Miss E and I shall secure for ourselves a fortress, or at the very least an airy apartment high above the Madding Crowd, and all will be well...
I should certainly hope so dear sir!
For when the European tour is underway in the spring of next year (after the winter thaw) we shall need somewhere to hold up and plan the next pusch
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