Hello. When I woke up on the first day I all i knew was my name is Peter and I like Coffee. I took a leaflet from a protester soon to be escorted off the premises by airport po-lice. The world is getting worse and I wasn’t helping it. I’m used to having serveral crimes under my belt, thanks to the Hare. Hugging a piller in an an airport louynge i began to feel better about myself. Airports are oddly purifing – they have no right to be of course, all that dirty air. But planes are so beautiful.
I’m reading phillip pullman’s Northern Lights. I’m not using capitals where I should. Ireland is nice, the Book of Kells is psychedellic, the Hare is still fond of his handywork, and walked around Trinity College with a Wildean Smugness. In the long room, which is a huge library with ancient books piled high to the ceiling, The Hare proudly updated me on which texts he wrote and/supervised. The main library is closed today, I shall return tomorrow to study.
I trust you know youyr way around Wikipedia, you may have to find some bones to flesh this out.
The Bee and Bee, with whom were were to stay, had exactly the same names as another pair of Bees, offering beds for lodging several miles yonder- that-a-way.
A kindly stranger pittied us and drove us there, and there were many cars, horses and jams and the road so it was very late and silly when we turned up at the Bee’s door.
Nothing mucjh has happened yet, and might not…that might be the only peep you hear from me here. I hope it shall sate you, like a thimble of honey.
“Huzzah” to you all, to-be-sure-to-be-sure, Leprechauns and their henchmen, to you all.