Mornington Crescent?!

[Eggsbutnobacon]

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

Pingu Nobody has in living memory had tea with those F-B-S blighters and not come off worse, except possibly that ghastly shetland pony you mention - foul-tempered little beast that it is, you can see where their daughter gets it from, although since that time the Countess dropped in they usually remember to lock her in the coal-shed when they have company - even Susie F-B-S has her limits and that child of her goes beyond them. But of course you know that. You were there at her cousin's christening when she first displayed an unhealthy interest in sticklebacks and she's got no better since. As for her father, what's his name, I've blanked it from my memory, he's just an insufferable bounder.

Dear old Manchester Picc. Who else remembers the tripe-shop just outside? The one where the British Transport Police used to auction the underwear they found on the last train from Leeds for charity? Gone now. There a bloody newsagents there instead!

A Lancashire lamentable to Preston.

Thank you Andrew you silver tongued charmer, it's a difficult move to get in play without a Wickmondsworth fillip, but the aged ps taught me well.
Right, as we are keeping out of the metropolis for the time being (a wise move after the contretemps in soho Friday night. I didn't know you could get an alpaca in an Uber, but you live and learn) I fancy a sojourn on the Malton Pickering line, so to chance for a glimpse of the macaws at Kirby Stephen I go.

I am reluctant to stay out of the metropolis too long, and those who know my gameplay other than the abberation that was the mishap of 1996 will testify to this. However on this royal celebratory night I should remember that the realm in the United Kingdom extends north of Watford and so will make an exemption to my usual rules.

The Settle to Carlisle line is indeed a beautiful one and thankfully was spared the cultural vandalism of the heinous Dr Beeching (how on earth was he elevated to the other place is beyond me). Before the celebration of Her Majesty's 90th began this evening there was a tribute on the 'box' to the late Victoria Wood, who brought much pleasure and mirth to us all.

In her memory I move to Giggleswick

Dearest Victoria. Like many others, I know, I consider one of the highlights of her oeuvre to be the Ballad of Barry and Freda. I've always assumed that, when Freda exhorts Barry "let's do it", she has in mind an urgent game of MC. It is, as some of us know, the recipe for marital harmony and connubial bliss, something that those of you who hang around in louche bars knocking back Benedictine with a Tizer chaser would do well to remember, eh, dementedma?

Now that the dress code is becoming clearer, I will venture to the couturier tomorrow to order something for the May ball. The bombazine knickerbockers have a bad case of moth and it's no longer de rigueur to wear one's mink, so I feel I must move with the times and commission something dashing and new.

Anyway, for dear Victoria

Lytham St Anne's

It's so damned easy for you ladies, I have to squeeze into MC uniform when I would rather dress casually in white tie and tails.

Victoria was certainly thinking of MC when she wrote the ballad but it was not among her many and various talents. De mortuis but she once played Embankment after I played Notting Hill Gate - in January too - and seemed surprised when a novice tipped her into Rottings by playing Aldgate East!

From Lytham St Anne's to Exeter St David's is but a step to any of us.

I remember the occasion. What caught Victoria out, I think, was a mutual misunderstanding of which rules were in play. If I remember correctly, these were the Frimley quarter-finals and so the Surrey Almanac was in force, but Victoria wrongly assumed that we were playing by the Clitheroe Concordance (1998 update, of course, since in 1996 the European Court of Human Rights had overturned the original 1923 version on the grounds of its inhuman cruelty and possible gross indecency). It was a great shame, as she had trounced Engelbert Humperdinck in the showbiz qualifiers.

I always enjoy these south west diversions, so

Bristol Temple Meads

Victoria was indeed trying to play Clitheroe Concordance but it was in 1990 before they were even in force - clever clogs that she was. The Court's decision came as a shock - they took the view that such indecent conduct should only take place out in the open where everyone can enjoy it, and I suppose they may have been right. But it has really hit the trade in dark chocolate which is a pity. My goldfish love it.

Trouncing Humperdinck was no great feat; he couldn't play quality MC to save his life. He did not even know that by Sussex local rules Bank is deemed to be on the Piccadilly Line after a play on the District!

Cirencester - with an option to visit Thanes Head.

Cirencester? You didn't tell us you were playing the pre- Beeching rule. At lunchtime too, when most of us are having a cuppa and sandwiches, or listening to Radio 4.

In that case, Stonehouse, and I don't mean the man who did a Reggie Perrin just after Reggie Perrin did a Reggie Perrin, if you get my drift.

Goodness, I can't keep up. I spend a day doing charitable works for mere pin money and the game has lost all direction! A wise move not to wear the knickerbockers Maud. Never the most flattering outfit for one of such comfortable proportions.
A genteel perambulation to Cheltenham.

You didn't tell us you were playing the pre- Beeching rule.

You didn't ask!

I'm disappointed about the knickerbockers - they aroused my FCLs big time as I am sure you knew Maud - but I suppose the moth has to have the last word.

The rule of First Three Letters is applicable - blame Saints for mentioning That Channel - so Chester it is.

Just back from a pleasurable evening at the London Gin Distillery with a friend who has (quite unfairly and YES Andrew I do know who faked the dossier against him, and why) been banned from the game in this country.

Anyway after my ninth second gin it occurred to me that if one took the 13th amendment to the MC Constitution at face value it would allow a quick and dirty trivet to Kings Langley at this juncture. So, well, why not?

Any such action was for the Greater Good. The future of MC matters more than the amour propre of any individual.

In any case the bit about the border collie the vegetable marrow and the bishop was true and I have the photos and the DNA results to prove it.

King's Langley - interesting. I take a Simon's Semi Circle to . . . roll of drums . . . Dartford!

I think we should move nearer to the centre of the metropolis and so it's off to Lewisham

Not yet (still a trifle warm iyswim) so a gentle perambulation Oxford wise. I too have charitable court ordered work to do today, but at least I'll be outdoors on such a lovely day.

To combine the warm weather with being comfortably inside the M25, I feel the best choice is an etiolated Winthrop to

Kew Gardens

Maud Careless play there. It was agreed at Caracas, was it not, that you cannot etiolate a Winthrop (except - if you must - to change onto the Jubilee Line) during the period of forty days before and after local elections anywhere in England. You can discombobulate one but that won't get you to a station with a K in it, now will it?

I can see only one way to return us to a state of grace which is Alperton.

PS Somebody somewhere has the Consul's niece's underwear. Please return it AT ONCE as she wants to go home.

I have no-one else's underwear.

I am not so sure whether to not Alperton was within the rules on a Tuesday. As for a Winthrop, we are excused as it was a Mayoral election, not a local authority one.

So Ruislip Gardens it must be.

There were council elections too Saints - there are (I regret to say) places outside London.

Obviously I didn't suspect you of having the garments in question (if the Lieutenant-Colonel was missing his best mess-dress kilt that would be another matter, you and he being of the same tendencies tartan) and we all know who I think had them, don't we, but in any event they have been returned anonymously, none the worse except for a smear of mayonnaise where you would least expect it.

Horridge's Hexagonal to Dagenham

I do wish you hadn't mentioned the Lt Col and his kilt. That windy day in the Ochils will stay long in the memory, and that particular sprig of heather was really not that lucky. Well,not for the heather. Or that poor gundog. I heard it never worked again.
Scotch corner

Sorry dementedma - perhaps I should have issued a trigger warning but I thought you were made of sterner stuff. I remember you and the Professor the day you completed the Pennine Way, him slung over your shoulder in those bright green trousers he used to frighten the sheep.

From Scotch Corner it can only be Welshpool.

Hang on a mo, we still playing pre Beeching? Because there wasn't a station in Scotch Corner last Saturday. It would be very nice if it was. Welshpool. Without a trigger warning? Do we not remember 1986? Blood and sand, the archdeacon didn't find his chalice until the following Rogation. And then it needed re blessing and a good scrub. I for one want to get way from there tout fucking suite (as dear Audrey was wont to exclaim)
Happier memories to be found in Doncaster. Eh Irene?

Ah Slinky - the memory of my weekend in Doncaster with the Canon's niece will remain with me for ever. As seemingly will the restraining order

Wakefield Westgate - or do I mean Westfield Wakegate? Damn, I must stop drinking spirits on weeknights.

Back down the Midland Main Line as it is sometimes called, to avoid any shenanigans in Doncaster. I haven't met the Canon but assume him to be a good man.

Kentish Town it is then, for a good English breakfast. One of the few stations not on the Beeching hit-list I assume.

The Consul's niece, I regret to inform you all, arrived sans underwear, as she ably demonstrated when performing the can-can on top ofthe grand piano. I think it might take the ArchDeacon a while to recover from that sight - the poor chap had only just sat down to give us a spot of Mozart...

From Kentish Town i'm going to get a little daring (not unlike the Consul's niece) and attempt a Periwinkle Fritillary to

Chancery Lane

Rumours that I have urgent business at one of the more reputable law firms thereabouts can neither be confirmed nor denied.

Apologies for absence. Mater's birthday today so must do the dutiful with the old girl. A sprightly 81 and still able to dance the pasa doble and drink the bishop under the table.
In her honour, a northern shunt to St Helens !