Tag Archives: Salisbury


‘I ate’nt dead’.

And with those 3 simple words, ladies and gentlemen, I will either have spoken volumes, or you’ll be saying ‘he can’t spell, please alert the authorities’.

Those in the know will recognise the sign that Granny Weatherwax would hang round her neck when she went borrowing, in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books.  It’s become a bit of shorthand amongst us Pratchett fanatics, and if we see it, we know we’re in the presence of someone that we can say ‘Ook’ to and not be laughed at.  Someone that understands the phrase ‘the turtle moves’.  Someone that  knows what a seamstress really does.

IMG_20180105_105313Why am I blathering on about this?  Well, not just because I think Pratchett was rather splendid, but because I managed to catch the end of the exhibition at Salisbury Museum featuring his work.  It had been on for months and I promised myself that I would get there before it closed, and thankfully I managed it, along with fellow Pratchett nut Alison, who I met via a Facebook group.  I don’t go to museums very often (at my age I run the danger of becoming an exhibit), but I have to admit that I was very, very impressed with this visit.  The exhibition itself was very tastefully done, a little bit emotional (bloody onion fairy), and of course full of reminders why us fans love his work – plenty of intelligent, witty humour.

IMG_20180105_121534_01Importantly, it gave me a chance to wear a very silly hat, and for that I am eternally happy…and even more importantly than that, I met up with the rather bloody marvellous Alison who, as well as providing me with that extraordinarily modest description of herself, appears to be somewhat fond of hobbits…

Now there is a link here to my roundworld job as an itinerant chilli peddler.  During the Christmas Market in Salisbury, in which I endured the slings and arrows of outrageous weather, I see a lot of people drift by.  A lot.  and so it was one day, whilst I was in the early evening stupour of too many brunch bars and vast amounts of caffeine, I noticed a group of people walk by that were dressed…well, differently.  For a start they weren’t wearing the kind of jacket that the weather required (basically a flattened mattress) and they were somewhat flamboyant.  In fact, one was wearing a gold suit, and a hat with wings.

And that, dear reader, was the giveaway – I can spot a Moist von Lipwig a mile off.  They were Pratchett fans and had been to the exhibition, all in costume and unashamedly willing to wander round Salisbury city centre, running the risk of encounters with ‘the public’.  Now ‘the public’ are all well and good, but when Wayne and Waynetta Lagerdrinker are faced with someone dressed as a wizard it’s often not a meeting of minds, mainly because one party doesn’t possess one.  So chapeau to them, and if you read this, I hope you enjoyed your trip 🙂


‘I ate’nt dead’ could also apply to me so far this year, what with there being a distinct lack of going outdoors happening right now.  I’ve taken the decision to hibernate, albeit briefly.  Events are famously a bit crap in January, and the weather ain’t nice, so I’ve hidden away from the world and am going steadily more and more ghostly pale as the weeks progress.  I’ve been busy booking events…getting a blog or two written…designing even more spreadsheets to get all orgasmic over (ooh, pivot tables)…and the lovely Alison has been keeping my spirits up (ahem).

But I will be back on the road again soon – as soon as February comes round in fact.  And I’m trying out a few vegan festivals this year, which is a bit of a departure from the norm – going to have to brush up on my sales patter a bit, obviously a fair bit of my normal spiel revolves around non-vegan food.  But I’ll adapt, and I’ll just have to remember not to say ‘live long and prosper’…


+++ Divide by cucumber error,  Please reinstall universe and reboot +++

Kill the Bublé

Well ladies and gentlemen, here we are again.  Christmas is over, your friendly neighbourhood hobbit has ended his period of solitary in Salisbury, and a little bit of what passes for sanity has descended upon this small part of the world.

A lot has happened since my last post, pretty much all of it spent at Salisbury Christmas Market.  This is how it went.

Day minus 1


Anti-grav is accidentally set to ‘on’ at the Farm

Arrive at WCF and stare at the pile of crates that need to be loaded into the van.  Stare at it again.  And again.  Think of the phrase ‘quart into a pint pot’ and just get on with it.  Amazingly it all fits, as well as the tools and shelves that we’ll need.

The van handles somewhat sluggishly once fully loaded.  Braking distances now measured in miles, not feet.  Driving style amended accordingly.  Bends avoided where possible

Day 0 – set-up day


A 4ft teaspoon. Teacup not pictured.

Get to Salisbury early to survey the market, find my chalet OK and attend the traders briefing in the Guildhall.   Meet up with Jamie and form a plan of attack for kitting out the chalet; shelves are not an issue, the display table is – Jamie’s preferred option is to construct a table across the front of the chalet and for me to crawl out/in as necessary.  I remind him that I am an old git and refuse.  Quick trip to B&Q ensues, material bought to construct a counter that can be placed on the veranda and brought in each night.  Bond arrives to lend his extensive DIY knowledge, and half a millisecond later is told to shut up.  Complete setup of the chalet early evening.  Hopes are high.

Day 1 – first day of trading

Arrive early in order to complete the set up and test things out properly.  Realise that the counter we built yesterday is not going to be stable enough, so extra bracing is swiftly attached and it seems much better.  Even so, it’s not the free-standing triumph I have in my head so I pull it back to rest against the door frame.  Seems to be stable enough.


Set up display and start trading, good enough for day 1.  Late day today as it’s the lantern parade, don’t finish till 8:30pm.  Hopes are high.

Day 2

Decide that the counter is still too wobbly as I have fears my fatness will knock the whole thing over at some point. Further bracing is the only option so  construct a very simple yet effective way of doing so – basically a length of wood screwed to counter at one end and door frame at the other.  Much more secure.

Trading is good, slightly lower than day 1 but shorter trading hours so still better than anticipated.

Day 3 – first Saturday

20141128_172721The setup is now pretty much defined, and I’m ready to trade bang on 10am when the market starts.  Unfortunately customers start milling around at 9:30 as it’s Saturday, but I cope.  Trading is epic, never sold as much in one day.

Go home tired but exultant after my best single trading day ever.  Beginning to plan for early retirement.

Day 4

Steady today, but after the epicness of Saturday I can cope with this.  Get to chat more with my chalet neighbours Heidi, Mo, Camille, Debs, Rachael and Terry and form a support group of bewildered traders.

ellaMusic being played in the market is Santa Claus Got Stuck In My Chimney by Ella Fitzgerald.  Filthy lyrics.  Go on, google ’em.  You’ll understand what I mean.

For a ‘short’ days trading takings are awesome, and I get home to my microwave meal happy in the knowledge that I’ve picked a good market.

Day 5

Monday.  Urgh, it’s Monday.  Things seem really quiet, but after the bedlam that was the weekend I’m happy with that.  Gives me a chance to unwind a little.

Chat more with Camille, Rachael and Terry.  They all seem to lead much more interesting lives than me, but then I think about my ex-IBM friends who look jealously at what I do now and remember that it’s all relative.  I could have been an astronaut you know, I just chose not to.


Godolphin Prep School giving it large, carol stylee

Have time to listen to the music being piped over the speakers today.  Realise that Michael Bublé is on repeat.  I hate Michael Bublé.

Trading is slow by Christmas standards, but still better than a regular market so very happy.

Day 6

Charter market day.  Billions of cheeky cock-er-knees selling watch batteries, dodgy DVDs and dubious pork products in the Market Place.  This means a different kind of clientele is around today, lots of single units sold and less box sets.  Still, decent numbers so who’s complaining?

20141202_092917A sad day.  Today is the funeral of a cricketing friend, and as I cannot be there I put my bat out a la Philip Hughes in his honour.  I have to take a moment at the back of the chalet a couple of times during the day.

Am left in the dark – literally – as some of the light bulbs in my chalet decide they’ve had enough and go to sleep.  Luckily it wasn’t all of them, so have enough to see what I’m doing for the remainder of the day.

Day 7

Light bulbs procured via the ever-resourceful Mo from Tumi across the way, I can now see what I’m doing.  And that is a steady day’s trade.  Last 6pm finish today until Sunday.  Treat myself to a takeaway in place of a microwave meal.

More Michael Bublé.  Kill the Bublé.

Cats rebel against expensive food and decide that Asda own brand is all they will eat, which is a problem as there is no Asda within easy reach of my regular commute.

Day 8


Back to the long trading days, and I’m beginning to feel a little tired.  Still, trade is brisk and in fact better than the first Thursday.  The war with Winchester is hotting up – am now in a daily contest with Bond to see who sells more.

Day 9

tmcEspresso happens.  It’s not something I do much of, as excess caffeine can make me a bit twitchy, but I feel the need.  And it works – it wakes me up enough early doors to engage with customers cheerily and get into the swing of things.

Chris Rea is Driving Home For Christmas for the ninth day in a row.  Never buy a used sat nav from Chris Rea, it’ll be bloody useless.

Another good day, I am ready for whatever Saturday can throw at me.

Day 10

So many customers…coming at me…coming in from the sun…no time to breathe…you weren’t there, man…

Another busy, busy day, not quite the same as the previous Saturday but excellent nonetheless.

Go home happy but exhausted.


Day 11

A pattern emerges.  Sunday’s not quite as good as Saturday, but is still a decent day.  Realise with some horror that this market is not even half way through, yet already I could sleep for a week.  Start looking at ways to ease the pain by maybe spending a night in Salisbury.  Then decide that I’m a skinflint and hotel prices are too expensive.

This is Debs, Rachael and Terry’s last day in the market as they’re only doing the first half.  Sad to see them go as they’re been terrific fun.

Day 12

New neighbour Nick moves in.  Camille and myself take an instant dislike to him simply for not being Rachael and Debs.

20141219_100342Announce the formation of the Anti-Bublé League.

Quietest day of the market so far.  After the chaos of the weekend it feels dead, but numbers at close of play show a decent return.

Half way through.  It’s all downhill from here.

Day 13

Another steady day, fuelled almost entirely by espressos and chocolate.  Really am beginning to feel the strain now, both physically and mentally.  Not just the trading but also the stock collections, the commute and of course the extra trips to Asda to get bloody cat food.

We decide that we’re just going to deal with Nick by taking the p*ss out of him.  He responds in kind and is accepted into the support group with open arms.

Day 14

A soggy day in Salisbury.  This keeps the customers away, which makes it almost impossible to stay wake.  More espresso.  More chocolate.  Nick starts to show tendencies to leave his stall for a 9-minute wander every 10 minutes.

Plenty of time to do jigsaws

Plenty of time to do jigsaws

First sub-par result of the market, but given the weather that’s to be expected.

Day 15

20141211_161609The weather’s still not helping us, and keeps the casual punter away.  Late trading brings a few more people in and drags figures up to a decent level.

Being exhausted is the default setting now.  Am thinking of digging an escape tunnel.

An owl called Bella comes to visit.  I don’t think I’m hallucinating, but there is that possibility.


Day 16

20141219_100159Decide against the escape tunnel as I have no energy to dig one.

No sign of the owl.

Steady trading today.  After a brief hiatus, Bublé is back.  Tensions rise in the hobbit community.

Camille the Dogsnatcher is captured in action.

Day 17

The busy day of the week, and the first signs of panic present-buying behaviour start to emerge.  Am introduced to the acronym ‘DLM’ by Heidi – the Desperate Lone Male – often seen at this time of the year.  In our case it’s more of a DLS (Desperate Lone Shopper) thing – men are often the quick purchasers, the conversation going like this:

Customer: What’s the hottest thing you have?

Me: Is it for someone who says that nothing’s ever hot enough?

Customer: Yes – I want to see him cry.

One bottle of Slayer later, job done.

Excellent business again, on days like today you get to speak to no-one other than customers, with traders emerging like badgers from their setts in late afternoon to compare notes.

Day 18

opossum-faking-deathEnergy levels have plummeted overnight.  Am now actively considering faking my own death to avoid the last few days.

Disgruntlement is high, there have been words exchanged between traders and stewards.  Tempers are fraying, especially in those of us who are doing every single day.  No sign of Stockholm Syndrome here.

Slow, slow day.  Batteries fail to recharge.  Bublé is on repeat.  Not helping.  The prospect of four days of 6pm finishes is very welcome though.

20141202_083518 20141202_083553How do you get stock to the chalet when there’s a charter market on and you can’t get the van on site?  Simple – employ the Hobbit All-Purpose Stock Transport Solution (patent applied for).  What d you mean, it looks like a suitcase?  This is a highly specialised piece of equipment you know, not just any old piece of kit dragged out of the loft…

Day 19

Energy levels still not high…until lunchtime when I get the news that I have become a Granddad again!  Instant happy hobbit syndrome, photos shared with chalet holders and customers alike, can’t get the grin off my face for the rest of the day 🙂

Trading?  Who cares?  I’m a granddad again!

Day 20

Chee20141216_195601ky Cockney day.  Alarming pig products in evidence.  Really, really don’t need them yelling 3 fer a paaaaaahnd all day.

Just push through it hobbit, not long to go now.

Finish the day off with a visit to see my new granddaughter.  Lifts up my spirits no end 🙂

Day 21

Starting to wonder if this will ever end.  What did I do in a previous life to deserve this?  Did I volunteer for this?  Goddammit, I paid for this!  Pull yourself together whinger, just get on with it…

Am now beginning to run low on stock.  Starting to shuffle the display round to promote stuff I have most of.  Doesn’t work, a very slow day, but it is Wednesday so not surprising really.

3 days to go.  Am buoyed by Jamie saying he’d be down on Saturday to help break down.

Day 22

20141218_105933Today I bonked.

And not in a fun, biological, squelching proximity of body parts way either.  This is the cycling version of bonking, akin to marathon runners hitting the wall.  It’s what happens when you completely run out of energy, and is not the same as being tired.  I’ve never really experienced it before, even when running (sort of) the 3 half marathons I’ve done in the past, which were about the most knackering thing I’ve done.  I just hit a wall at about 6pm, and couldn’t think, speak or do anything other than just stand up.  Camille in the chalet opposite told me that I’d visibly turned into Zombie Hobbit, though I think that’s doing a bit of a disservice to zombies as I think they probably have more energy than I did right then.

A swift ingestion of calories – in the healthy form of Twix bars – helped rectify the situation, though I was still running on fumes for the rest of the day.

Day 23

Penultimate day of the market.  Stock is looking patchy, but I’ll have enough to get me to the end.  Decent numbers sold, hopeful of reaching my revised target figure for the whole market.

anokaaA decent day and we finish up with a support group night out at Anokaa, which is a fantastic Indian restaurant in Fisherton Street.  Top, top food – not your normal curry-house fare.  Vegetarian Heidi is so baffled by the excellent veggie offerings she asks me – a ravenous carnivore – for help.  To be fair, some of the veggie options do look nice.  Not nice enough to stop me choosing a fabulous rack of lamb dish, though.  We all have great food, great conversation and I get home very, very late, but content.

Day 24 – last day of the market

20141218_120428Get to the market early, as always, though that’s not easy after the late night yesterday.  Set up early, ready for the rush, and sure enough for the last Saturday before Christmas there are lots of people about.

More espresso, more chocolate and yes – more Bublé.  I thank every deity known to humanity, and quite a few I’ve made up myself just to fill out my own personal pantheon, that I don’t have to listen to him again after today.

I bonk again, shortly after Jamie tells me that he won’t be down to help me break down the chalet.  This news drains any scrap of energy I have left.  Official close of the market is 7pm, but we’re all ‘tidying’ behind the scenes from about 5 o’clock.


Heidi in her spot

7pm comes and we all get handy with drills, screwdrivers and hammers in dismantling our chalets.  Not much stock to pack away, but I have to get a bit primeval on some of the screws as they’re embedded in knots in the wood and simply won’t come out, even with the heavy-duty borrowed drill from Nick next door.  Hammer comes to the rescue.

Say emotional goodbyes to Heidi, Camille, Mo and Nick – it’s been a blast and we all promise to be there next year and reform the support group.

And the music playing when I leave is…thankfully not Bublé.  That would have been a bit much.

Day 25 – market day + 1

20141221_104544Prize pillock that I am, I’ve agreed to be at Swindon Designer Outlet today.  I have bugger all stock and it’s chucking it down.  I’m so tired that I completely misjudge things and have a bollard v. van incident.  Bollard wins, van loses.  Dammit.

Ghost my way through the day and sell a decent number, especially given the weather.  Every last box set that I have has sold, I end up with a crate of stock that goes back to the Farm to keep Bath going for the last few days up till Christmas.


And that, folks, is why I wasn’t terribly communicative over December.  I have worked out that with travel I was working 90-hour weeks for the duration of the market, and I know that there were times when I unravelled ever so slightly.  I did learn a few things though:

– Trading for 25 days in a row is bloody exhausting

– Salisbury likes it’s chilli sauce

– Chris Rea may not yet be home for Christmas

– There is a special place in hell for Michael Bublé

– Salisbury has some cute PCSOs

– It is possible to live for a month on microwave meals and Tesco bargain bin sarnies

– 5pm is Wispa time

And will I do it again?  I certainly plan to – I met some lovely people, sold lots of stuff and made it to Christmas more or less sane.

And now…it’s all over – the Festive season, and New Year to boot.  That means it must be time for the WCF Christmas Party.  Stocks of aspirin have been replenished in preparation.

Normal service will be resumed in the very near future.  Whatever normal is.

 Welcome to the Year of The Spinning Mouse

Rubber dinghy rapids

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last post, mainly as I’ve not had masses to waflle about.  I thought I’d save up my random ramblings until I can pad them out a bit 🙂


Though I have little to waffle about, it’s all go at WCF Central.  We’ve been cooking furiously (mainly furious when the bottling machine has a spitty fit…thank you Hellmouth) so we now have more stock in place than ever before.  Its’ causing us a bit of a headache, what with the need for a national crate mountain, but it puts us in a decent position in the headlong rush towards Christmas.  I know it’s still only just autumn, but us trading wallahs have to be ahead of the curve, otherwise there’s a danger of us getting caught with our trousers down if something unexpected happens.  A good productive day can see over 3,000 units produced without having to work till midnight – we’re getting good at this efficiency lark, you know.  Bond will claim it’s all down to his ‘floating’ role as Efficiency Bitch – soaking up all the odd jobs that sometimes get in the way of smooth running – but for the most part it’s down to good planning and days of monster batches in the big cooker.  They’re a pain to prepare for, but once cooked it’s just a case of bottle, bottle, bottle till you get bored of hitting the pedal.  Needs must though, we need the stock, and we have a lot more days like that to be prepared.

20140921_101457On the trading front it all goes a bit quieter at this time of year.  Yes, there are still plenty of markets and festivals, but the monsters of the summer are gone and everyone’s focussed on the upcoming horror that is the festive season.  Since my last update I’ve been to Reading, Gloucester, Tetbury, Royal Wootton Bassett and Wroughton – mostly places I’ve been to before, although the day in Wroughton was unusual.  I was asked to give a presentation to the Wiltshire WI for their Produce Day, which was fun.  I suspect the average age of the audience was the wrong side of 70, and the average natural hip quota significantly less than 2, but they all listened attentively to the producers there on the day, and asked plenty of questions – thankfully no difficult ones – not to me. anyway wilogo🙂  I’ve been asked back to give a similar presentation at their anniversary event next April, so I can’t have scared them too much with my Don Estelle shorts and tales of incinerating potential Prime Ministers!

I’ve had a bit of a weekend off before that, taking a Sunday off to head to Wembley for an NFL game.  Now I know it’s still fairly new to the UK and so it’s a bit of a novelty, but it’s so much fun going to one of these games – the glitz, the glamour, the cheerleaders, the vastly overpriced pretend food, the cattle market that is Wembley Stadium Station afterwards…it’s not like that at the County Ground, I can tell you.  And you certainly don’t get Def Leppard as pre-match entertainment at  Swindon, though many would say they’re glad of that.



On a totally separate subject, something caught my eye today, and frankly I’m baffled.  I followed a brand spanking new Fiat 500 through Devizes, and I’m sure the owner is really, really proud of her shiny new toy…but why in the FSM’s name did she choose beige as the colour?  Now we all have our preferences.  I realise this.  I seem to have developed a preference for loud colours recently that can leave your retinas in a state of shock.  But beige?  For a car?  A little research leads me to believe it’s actually a colour they call ‘New Age Cream’.  Seriously, what the hell’s that all about?  It’s beige, people!  Eeeeuw.

mcglashanSince my last post one of the most important decisions in British politics ever has been taken, with the result of Scotland’s independence referendum.  The result was, of course, the safe option of the status quo – one I think is probably the best for Scotland – but it does lead me to believe that far from it being decisive, we’re just going to have to go round the loop all over again in a few years until they get the answer the nationalists want.  I think, by the time voting day had come round, everyone in England was utterly sick of Alex Salmond’s weaselly fizzog appearing on every screen, and if the English had had a vote we’d had voted a resounding Yes just to get rid of the bugger.  A really vindictive part of me would have loved to have seen a Yes vote win out, just to see how an economy built on shortbread and little drummer girls in plastic tubes would actually work in the real world.  However we’re all still one big happy family, but just wait till Andy Murray wants a big cheer at Wimbledon next year…I think he’ll find a few less supporters next time round!

I was going to buy these but they were two deer

I was going to buy these but they were two deer

A busy few days coming up – cooking at the farm followed by days trading in Temple Quay (Bristol), Salisbury, Devizes and Frome.  The Pink Chilli Hobbit will be in Marlborough on Sunday, and the WCF Massive will also be in Neath, Reading, Petersfield, Oxford, Bath and of course Swindon.  We’re always in Swindon.  We try to leave, but just like Number 6 in The Prisoner, we get caught by the balls and dragged back.  Oh…sorry…caught by one big ball.  My bad.



That’s all for this week folks, apart from one very important question.  Take a look at the poster below, spotted in a local health food establishment.  WTF?


Mr Angry has spoken


First up this week, an apology.

I am sorry.

There, I’ve said it.  Read into that what you will.  The gentleman that has sparked this wanton outpouring of regret, the gentleman that yesterday threatened and intimidated me loudly, aggressively – in fact furiously – will not know precisely what I am sorry for, because the full text of my apology has been written and subsequently deleted, from this blog at least.  I am not going to get drawn into the kind of foaming, spittle-flecked exchange that he obviously gets his kicks from, as his kind of verbal terrorism has no place in a civilised society that values free speech and tolerance.  I simply will not have any part of it, sir.

So, again – I am sorry.  But not what you think I ought to be sorry for.


And with that, we’ll move on to a life more chilled, in fact more chillied.

Having said that I’m going to move on…I am somewhat dismayed by the election results that have come out over the last few days.  I don’t hold a great deal of love for any major political party, working on the theory that MP/MEPs are either:

  1. Career politicians with no knowledge of real life
  2. Eton poshos with no knowledge of real life
  3. Junket junkies with no knowledge of real life
  4. Decent honest people that have been caught up in the helter-skelter of Westminster and have therefore lost touch with real life

upper class twit

So really – Nigel Farage is our best hope?  Here’s what I found in my dictionary:




1.  Nigel Farage

2. Boris Johnson

3.  The Chilli Hobbit, especially after a few adult beverages

Would you really want any of these people running the show?  I wouldn’t vote for me, I know what I’m like 🙂

(Gets off soap box…which is a shame really as it’s the only way I can reach stuff).

LetscookSo it was mega-busy at the Chilli Farm last week.  As Jamie’s at the Royal Bath & West Show this week we were on double shifts to cook enough supplies.  Much cooking, bottling, labelling and swearing was undertaken as we did our best to make sure our detailed estimates on stock requirements (not finger in the air guesstimates, honest) have been met.  We think we got it right…not sure though…time will tell.

20140525_105843The weekend, with the exception of what shall forever be know as ‘The Oxbow Incident’ referred to above, was a blast.  Saturday was a Royal Wootton Bassett day, Sunday was Bath Green 20140526_094647Street, and Monday was Salisbury International Market (complete with a race car for some reason).  All busy, sporadically dry, occasionally windy, amusing incidents aplenty and many, many tasters of God Slayer suffering the after-effects.  It never ceases to 20140526_100932amaze me how many people taste it, recoil in napalm and lava-fuelled shock, then say something to the effect of ‘bugger me that’s tasty, I must have one’!  It’s a remarkable testament to the endorphin rush created by the chemicals in chillies as well as the fantastic tastes that Dr Jamie creates in his laboratory kitchen.

The Pink Chilli Hobbit has returned from a lovely week on the Isle of Mull and gone straight back into the coal face, or as close a coal face as Bradford on Avon can muster.  She received a visit from a couple from New Orleans, on their hollybobs in the glorious rain of the UK, who were mightily impressed with the Chipotle Chilli Sauce and bought some to take home with them – to show Louisiana how it really should be done 🙂

nap-attackIt’s a busy couple of weeks, we all have lots of events – and BIG events.  As I mentioned above, Jamie’s at the Royal Bath & West over the next few days; also this week we’re in Frome, Bath, Swindon, Oxford, Marlborough, Bristol, Lechlade, Evesham and Kenwood House in London.  We’ll need a bit of a lie down after all of that.

Well, a hobbit can’t live on chocolate chip cookies and Planet Rock alone (try though I might).  It’s time I located the kitchen and pretended to cook.  The authorities have been warned.