Mornington Crescent?!

[Eggsbutnobacon]

Will somebody please please explain to me what this is all about?

Before we had MC, we had to make do with novels as a form of entertainment, and so I move to the home of the Bronte sisters, Haworth

Of course, novels and MC are the perfect combination. As some of you know, I have a particular interest in late Victorian novels featuring MC; I think the greatest of all is Never Knightsbridge, in which high political drama, MC and passionate romance are combined to thrilling effect.

So, next to

Down St

Following the literary connection and taking my lead from Irene's name

Tilling

From where, the sensible (yet still, I flatter myself, inventive) move is a modal transverse to

Gormenghast

Nice one, Maud, we all like a modal move especially when roddihgs are rural!

Serious professional Crescenters are of course aware of the MC links - hidden from the profanum vulgus but obvious to us - in the novels of Trollope; those in the works of Wilkie Collins are too abstruse even for many on this site so I will content myself with Percycross -

Don't the novels of Trollope pre-date the first game of MC? He does not mention MC directly.

I think modal tranverses are definitely in order and so via a blue phone box travel in time back to a different and more modern cross, Hatton Cross

It's true that Trollope doesn't mention MC directly, but, as Andrew suggests, there are many coded allusions in his later works, especially in the great London novels of the 1870s.

George Gissing is probably the most notable literary MC-er of the period; there's a strong argument that New Grub Street is structured around a particularly complex game of MC played by the Montmorency Principles.

In honour of which, a clockwise shunt to Aldersgate St.

Gissing was piss-poor at MC. He once played Mill Hill East in reply to Southfields! We all laughed at him, and he got so upset.

The earliest literary reference to MC of which I know is in Chaucer whose pilgrims play an Ecclesiastical Leisurely from Southwark to Canterbury - Geoff forgets to tell us which station they got out at. The only book on the subject (Crescenting before Cromwell - Introductory Notes for a Preliminary Sketch - seven volumes) appears to be out of print.

Bat and Ball

Oh yes. It puts me in mind, too, of that moment in Piers Plowman when he defies the bishop by playing a lateral hike to

Malvern

Of course in those days that was still a legal move, if rather a dirty one: the Grand Council had not yet ratified the Decretals of Constance of 1265. I know, I know, that ratification is dodgy, there was more than the usual degree of bribery and corruption, but it's a bit late to question it now.

Talk of 1265 leads as the day follows the night to Evesham and that's where we are headed.

I thought 1265 was an engine number!

So we are on the way back to the capital, and so we arrive at Paddington in time for a walk to Little Venice. The real Venice was the scene of the attempted rule change by someone on the Orient Express in 1958, having read too many Agatha Christie novels.

So we continue the sleuthing at

Blackfriars - convenient for the Old Bailey

Assuming this was a journey via Kings Cross and the Thameslink route, I think we can be even more convenient for the Old Bailey should the 1995 dispute about the introduction of new rules on the first Tuesday of the month in winter ever come to court. I cannot imagine that the statute of limitations or the pleadings of m'learned friends will fall on deaf ears if it comes to litigation.

So Temple it is, but a stone throw from the said Old Bailey.

That's rather a long stone's throw; Temple is nearer the RCJ. However: Last Quarter draweth nigh and and so does Prudhoe for reasons too obvious to need stating.

Good afternoon all. I trust the reason for my recent absence reached you all? I sent a carrier pigeon. Awfully short on public transport in 8that* part of the world. probably the reason that one can't get a decent game of MC for love or money.

Interesting developments in this game. Andrew must be back on the ouzo with that move!

I cannot entertain remaining so far North for long, but of course an immediate return to the Capital is forbidden under so many rules and footnotes. A prudent hop to Birmingham New Street should start the process off nicely

Ah, Pingu - I thought I saw you in the crowd when I was watching the Republican National Congress on telly, glad to discover I was right. Quite agree re the public transport, though there's a reasonable if limited game to play with the Manhattan subway.

We certainly need to be moving southwards now to avoid breaching Fotheringham (2nd ed of course). So - Newport (Essex).

Pingu What makes you think I was ever off the ouzo?

And we know where you've been, and you don't need a bus "within those walls". Glad you got your parole, though, and I hope the loot is safely stashed.

What I like about Birmingham New Street, and there isn't much to like about Birmingham New Street, is that any train you get on gets you away from Birmingham New Street, and must therefore be an improvement, even if you end up somewhere as Welsh as Dolgellau.

x-post but I stand by Wales's answer to hell on earth - we are now, however, moving on to Newport (Isle of Wight).

I play the tunnel re-open rule and so move to Ventnor

So, let's go island hopping, then

Douglas, Isle of Man

Oh Maud, that's stylish!

Ryde, Isle of Wight

Andrew, you swore blind to both me and Mummy Pingu that you'd quit the hard stuff. She'll be dreadfully disappointed - once she's got over the kerfuffle of Husband#6 and the Cultural Attaché's deputy.

Thank you, Pingu. It is a rather stylish move, isn't it? I learnt it in Rangoon in '48, following that awful kerfuffle when the oil tycoon was disqualified from the quarter-finals and sent home in disgrace following the theft of five coconuts, an egg whisk and several rolls of masking tape from the quartermaster's stores.

I'm sorry that we didn't receive your news and notice that Andrew has been rather reticent about what happened to your messenger bird. It had the misfortune to be approaching MC Villas just as Andrew and Mama Pingu's fifth ex-husband's myopic brother Mungo - who is not quite from the top drawer but nevertheless aspires to be s country gentleman - decided to try their hands at clay-pigeon shooting. I won't dwell, but let's just say that Mungo is very sorry and has offered to buy a replacement. All of which leads me very nicely to

Tottenham Court Road

You can't call ouzo the hard stuff, not compared with the hooch MummyPingu used to regale us all with. Sorry about Husband6 - she does find them, doesn't she? That Deputy always struck me as dodgy too - never trust a woman who can't ride but collects whips. And biographies of Disraeli.

Maud As you well know, it wasn't an egg whisk, although I suppose you could whisk eggs with it if you had a vivid imagination and enough eggs.

Don't have a go at me about that bloody messenger bird! I told Mungo where to put his clay pigeon and I hope he did and I hope it hurt. The only bird I like is chicken, grilled with wild rice and green peas, preceded by mushroom soup and followed by bread pudding in brandy and a large Havana - I'm a simple soul.

As you've played a royal card we will have no choice but to go to Hampton Court and very nice too in a mild July.

Bloody Mungo. He's such a black sheep. Even husband#5 struggles to invite him to polite company. Which obviously explains what he was doing with Andrew. If you see him, do tell him I was rather attached to that pigeon. She was an absolute beaut. Far more faithful than anyof Mummy Pingu's husbands, and probably more so than half of Daddy Pingu's.

If we're being regal, I must sally forth to Greenwich, meet you at the Queen's House! Last one to Elizabeth's Oak is a rotten egg!

I play the DLR rule and move to Mudchute where there may be sheep not of the black variety as there is I understand a city farm. Pigeons may be there too perhaps.