The Other City

We are currently in Norwich.  Norwich's slogan when marketing itself to tourists is 'Norwich - a fine city'.  Some years ago it was changed to 'Norwich - the other city', in a reference to the time when it was England's capital city around the time of the Norman conquest.  I don't know who Norman was, but things have changed since he was around, and 'the other city' never really took off as a slogan.  Now it is simply 'A fine city' once again.

Today I met my other great-grandmother, Kathleen.  She had some very shiny buttons which were marvellous, and also some lovely Christmas decorations hanging from her ceiling which fascinated me.

Even better than great grandma was her cat, Feet.  

'Ga!  Ga!' I shrieked as soon as I saw him.  My parents think this means 'cat' but they are so wrong - of course it means: 'Do come over here, cat, so that I can conduct a detailed physiological study of you and double-check that you have been correctly classified on the taxonomic charts!  Failing that, I would like to eat some of your cat biscuits.'

Fitzwilliam, Fitzdoug and Fitzolly

Today Doug and Olly came to visit.  We went out to enjoy the British sunshine.  British sunshine is interesting - it seems to be made of an unfamiliar liquid which drips out of the sky.  

I found my face was quite tanned by the end of an hour or so wandering Cambridge in this shining light, but the tan faded very fast once we went indoors.

We visited the Fitzwilliam museum, where we saw the pots that were smashed a few years ago and then very carefully stuck together.  

Daddy put his jacket on as we were leaving, and I said 'A ga ba ba ba ba baaaaaa.' which means: 'Oh look - it fits William.'  Then I laughed my head off, but no one else seemed to appreciate my pun. 

Meet you at the cemetery gates

Today I accompanied a leading Wittgenstein scholar on an homage to the great man's graveside, which is down a quiet side path in outer Cambridge.  

It is said, though perhaps apocryphal, that the philosopher's last words were 'Tell them I've had a wonderful life.'

'Blllllllll brrrr brrrrrr.' I said wittily, which means: 'Tell them I've had a wonderful walk.  Tee hee!'

Fostering my genius

Today we went to visit Daddy's old house in London.

The place was renovated when Daddy lived there. 'Wa wa wa wa bfrrrrrr.' I said, which means 'This looks nice. Who did the building? Perhaps we can get him to do our bathroom in Melbourne too?'

Mummy explained that we would need plans by Norman Foster and a half billion pound budget to achieve a similar look in our bathroom.

I thought this sounded reasonable - I do some of my best thinking in the bath and I need an uplifting environment in which to bathe.

For example, I have already arrived at Archimedes' eureka moment completely independently. I've also discovered a formula that demonstrates that the amount of water displaced (w) is directly proportional to the poshness of the bathroom (p) and the presence of carpet (c).

Like all good scientists, I believe that a valid experiment must be replicable and so I make sure to repeat it at every bathtime.

Sad news about the Thylacine; better news about Ceylon

Today I visited the University Museum of Zoology, where many rare and extinct entities are preserved. For example, I discovered birds from British Central Guinea, Ceylon, Natal and Malaya, all of which are now very difficult to visit.

Best of all was the Thylacine label, which is written entirely in the present tense. I was stunned to learn that this evasive marsupial has been restricted in habitat to just Tasmania - and, regrettably, that there are some thoughts that it may even be extinct.

I was amazed to see that someone had parked a whale skeleton in the carpark above the museum.

'Ba ba ba ba ba brrrrr!' I said in astonishment, which means: 'Who drives such an ostentatious vehicle around? And how much does the registration cost? Let alone the parking fees!'

When I returned home, I was inspired to continue my entomological investigations and discovered a hyperintelligent silverfish, Buggus Cambriensis. It seemed to know an awful lot about eighteenth century chemistry...but not as much as me.

Eating Rupert Brookes' dirt

I am a very brilliant thinker, but as a baby of the people, I am not above a little housework. I started today by helpfully sorting the washing. I sorted it into two main sets: 'inside the basket' and 'on the floor'.

Later in the day we set off on a walk across a meadow to Grantchester, a village near Cambridge.

Daddy needs at least one church visit a day in order to maintain his dustiness and fill our camera with photographs of almost identical broken tiles. He found a nice one in Grantchester. 'Ma ma ma ma ma maaaaaaa!' I commented succintly, which means, 'There aren't many surviving details from the medieval period, are there?'

Poet Rupert Brookes spent a lot of time in Grantchester. His most famous poem speaks about a corner of a foreign field/that is forever England.

With these lines in mind, I sat on the ground outside the church and sampled a little of the field. It tasted damp and loamy with a topnote of moss. Now there is a corner of an English field/that is forever Wubba.

My thoughts on parasitic wasps, and my pint of bitter

This morning I took tea with a visiting entomologist. I was most intrigued to hear about his work on parasitic wasps, of which there are many thousands of species in the UK alone.

'Da da da da da gaaaaaaa.' I remarked, which means: 'Perhaps the variety of host species used by the wasps provides a trigger for a high degree of speciation among the wasps, due to the excessive specialisation required to successfully invade any one of the hosts?'

Then we went out for a walk. We visited a medieval church. In the fields, we saw a hare, covered in hair, haring away.

We visited a pub in a small village. 'Ga ga ga ga ga ba ba ba brrrrr.' I told the barmaid, which means: 'A pint of your best bitter, please.'

But they wouldn't let me drink it and insisted I make do with milk. I have however decided to start a group for like-minded, woolly-jumper wearing babies called CAMRILK, or 'The Campaign for Real Milk', which will argue against infant formula and in favour of my preferred tipple.

Uncle Richard...he's Great

Luckily my great uncle Richard was visiting from America. He also takes after me. You can't see how much his face looks like mine due to the beard, but you can see that he too is a fan of the woolly jumper.

Cold but enjoyable

It's chilly here, but very nice. I am taking lots of walks to try to reset my body clock so I stop wanting to play at 3 in the morning.

There are lots of cats here: cats that woof and chase frisbies, cats that float on the rivers quacking.

Very great aunts

Here I am with my very great great aunts...or perhaps they are great great great cousins in law thrice removed?

Either way they seemed to enjoy meeting me, and I enjoyed trying to remove their jewellery.

In Cambridge

Finally, after a 35 hour journey, we arrived in Cambridge.

I met my other grandad for the first time. Looking at him closely, I think he takes after me. We have the same nose, hair and taste in woolly jumpers.

His house is full of delicious coasters and tempting looking ceramics.

Singapore airport

In Singapore, breastfeeding is almost against the law!

You CAN have a feed in this special room right at the end of the airport.

I was rather distracted by the non-stop earsplitting Disney soundtrack and hypnotic lightbox of Disney characters.

Off on the plane

Here I am at the airport, munching on a rusk.

My Grandad kindly came to wave me goodbye. Everyone else had coffee, but I was lucky enough to get this delicious rusk.