When I announced to friends my intention to write a book entitled ‘BBC: Brainwashing Britain?’ questions came thick and fast: “Brainwashing Britain? The BBC? Why ever would they want to do such a thing? Aren’t [more…]
September 19th, 1808, Lisbon. We are in port at last, and I am glad to have my paws on the ground. It was a difficult passage out of the Channel, and we had to tack [more…]
June 12th, 1808. I take up my pen again in London, where Jem and I have arrived after our hasty departure from Cambridge. It is quite understandable that Jem, unpaid by his lordship for more [more…]
I know there’s plenty of former Pusser types on GP, and even a few who have sailed under the red duster. They’ll all be familiar with the Christmas routines for their respective outfits. I thought [more…]
March 6th, 1807. George is off to Italy, where I am sure he will have a capital time ogling churches and whores, and buying paintings that might be by Salvator Rosa but are probably not. [more…]
Cambridge, Novr. 6th, 1805. I did not dance well at the Bonfire Night show on Midsummer Common. Afterwards, Fred said to me, ‘Daisy, me ole dear. Yer knows and I knows yer gettin’ a bit [more…]
Meon Hill lies in the valley of the River Avon, on the border of Oxfordshire and Warwickshire. It is an outlier of the Cotswolds and, although it reaches only a modest 194m of elevation, it [more…]
Ah pure cannae be f**ked wi’ Chrishmas. Brengs back a loadae sh*te memries fae when ah wis a wean. Wha hod f**kin’ hee haw cuz ma da spent aw tha dole money oan drenk an [more…]
In March 2013 I was appointed to RFA Fort Austin. Within NATO she is classified as an AFSH, that’s to say a combat stores ship with the necessary facilities on board to embark a helicopter. [more…]
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