And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer.
Well, it has been feeling a lot like… the Nakatomi Plaza.
We have been hostages held in an isolated location, no ways in, no ways out, more locks than Fort Knox, and at every turn, a devilish new twist created by a criminal genius… Apparently, India wants me, Lord I can’t go back there!
Hmmm! An exceptional thief sets his sights beyond the petty cash tin, and the curtains!
Plutarch had said to me… “Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs!” Throw in a little Helsinki syndrome, and then it’s welcome to the party, pal!
We are back! For the moment at arm’s length, but, is that short arms and deep pockets? We’ll soon find out.
At least I will now be able to enjoy a chilled glass of champagne. Somewhere, where the bottle needed to be placed in a fridge to keep it cold, and if I ask for a little water in my Scotch; it will not mean holding the glass out from under an umbrella! As for the food, it will have come via the kitchen from the freezer, not straight to the table…
Of course, I remain swathed in cashmere.
Yes, I remain a remainer… Now, the vast majority of the restaurant staff have returned to/from whence they came, will the colour, passion and variety will be drained from our food, and hastily returned to the late 70’s and early 80’s. The exotica that are ‘Toad in the Hole and ‘Spotted Dick’ will be back, the Marie Rose sauce on our prawn cocktail will be as vacant as the ship itself!
Unable to escape this ‘Sceptred Isle’, we will have search out the good, avoid the bad, and snuff out the ugly; eating like MPs in the House of Commons subsidised canteen, steak frites, could be, two mules for Sister Sara.
It may be for a few dollars more, but I will soon be availing myself of Jeremy King’s magnificent seven. Each one its own character, a Steve McQueen, a Coburn, a Bronson, a Brynner, a Vaughan or a Wallach.
This a deliberate plug to ensure I am able to gain a table at short notice!
Jeremy has remained eloquently vocal throughout this whole period, and I alongside the many of you who I know frequent his here’s and there’s, will be across the thresholds with haste.
I shall be attired head to toe, in Volpe. Apparently, I have to become a bigger, and better self-publicist, a more accomplished narcissist, a flaneur like never before. Ho-hum! If only I had something new to wear?
Meanwhile the painting in my attic has seen the writing on the wall!
I am wading through the new stock, and will be adding new photos in a post this week, but don’t hold back!
The promised jeans were sadly distributed amongst East London’s finest courtesy of FedEx, I hope the same fate doesn’t befall the casual trousers and the denim replacements!
I look forward to seeing you on a table next to mine, very soon.
Hugs, now we are allowed to!
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