I did go to the Caretaker’s party. Because the weather was sweet and cloudless it was a garden party (refer to shaken picture below).
Because we were late, the Caretaker had already withdrawn in his office to ponder over the affairs of the Outpost. The Palace was impressively weird: it stands in the middle of large grounds (although not larger than those of the English School, opposite to it, where we eventually parked) and features a prismatic tower capped by a hemispheric domelet, the whole thing looking like a pretext hiding a Sir Hugo Drax missile. Above the main entrance there is a huge coat of arms carved in stone. Whose coat of arms? Well, the Evil Empire’s, obviously (you are confused now, aren’t you?). The garden is cute and colonial, featuring: a pool, a green and a victorian folly-type pseudo-ruin.
No, this is not fiction; I live it.
The food was preposterous. Even worse than that offered at my compatridos’ embassy parties. It probably gave Jod mild food poisoning, too. The gastronomic side of the party actually made me miss my UCL graduation ceremony buffet. So, there.
Now, the Palace contains a model of itself after my compatridos and local outposter traitors bombed it, in the totemic year of 19… So, yes, the Palace actually contains a model of itself. Titillatingly platonic, huh? And yes, people: the word for those who did that is ‘traitors’. Although I know one of them and he is a good and honest man: he meant well. Misled. Misguided. Miscalculating. But a traitor. I stop here awed by human nature and its complexity. No joking.
What else? Oh, yes. I sat at the Cabinet table!!!! Wow. I looked very trustworthy sitting there. Hehe. But no photos of this, otherwise my face will be revealed.
Yes, I am immune to (mild) food poisoning. It also rained today. After a month or so. This is how people end up as pagans.
PS: Mi amigo Don Dolano de Santa Cruz, veramente, the pics are mine unless otherwise stated. Got the Shutterbug, too 😉