Saturday, 17 September 2011

Coming through a cloud you're looking at me from above

I'm on the 17th floor of a very swanky apartment block in Canary Wharf. It's like a terraced house in the clouds, and the views across London are extraordinary. The flat belongs to my friends Alex and Wiezek, and they're having a moving- in party. I am jealous. It's a very fancy flat, although not a single one of their neighbours is British, which I find somehow worrying, because it implies the natives in this country aren't rich enough to afford swanky pads! Or perhaps they simply think the flats don't represent value for money. Unfortunately, the lift is proving almost impossible to operate, which makes me realise that there are inherent problems involved in living in the sky!

Here's a question... How do you spell jush? Zhush?You know the phrase, "to jzush something up." It's a word used almost exclusively by rancid homosexuals and interior designers, but it's a word that I've never seen written down. Answers on a postcard please, because it's been bugging me for most of my life!!

350 years ago, Pepys informed his wife that he was planning to go to Huntingdonshire to sort out his Uncle's will once and for all. Elizabeth said that she wanted to join him on the journey, so a second horse was hired, along with a very pretty side saddle. Is riding side saddle not a great deal less comfortable? Surely it requires an astonishing level of balance? 

In any case, the married couple packed their things, said their goodbyes to the capital, and set off into the sticks. Elizabeth apparently rode well, although we're told she had a fall, which was not serious. They over-nighted in Ware. Where?!

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