It’s the weekend, and my talk is over. As Grania notes in the post below, it went very well, and so my job here is done and now I can relax. I hadn’t slept well since I’ve been here, but last night I crashed and dozed like a log. Now I’m about to tuck into a Big British Breakfast; afterwards I’ll go to the British Museum, have lunch with Anthony Grayling (whose New College is nearby) and quaff a pint or so at the Princess Louise, a fine Victorian pub whose centerpiece, besides the great assortment of real ales, is the men’s room, which preserves the original Victorian urinals (I promise photos). I fly back to the U.S. tomorrow afternoon. Meanwhile in Dobrzyn, the nefarious Hili is already looking forward to snacks of spring birds.
Hili: I think that somebody is building a nest.
Cyrus: Leave those poor birds alone. After all, we’re on our way to the kitchen to get something to eat.
Hili: Tam chyba ktoś wije gniazdko.
Cyrus: Zostaw te biedne ptaszki, idziemy do kuchni coś zjeść.
“I’ll go to the British Museum”
but how long will its charm last?
Clearly you have never been to the British Museum! The answer to your question: days. Weeks. Years…
Jerry, make sure you check out the mechanical galleon in the clock room. It’s one of the most crazy but awesome things I have ever seen.
I want my own “Gus-in-a-box”! 🙂
Winston would love a box like that! And if I tried to tease him with my hand like that, I’d need major surgery.