This last week I have been away on my camping trip to the village of Fulking. How wonderful it was to finally escape and be able to relax without the threat of a cuddle interrupting one's sleep. Bliss! I boarded the train at the local station, sadly the quality of transport was not up to that of my last rail journey. Thankfully I reach my interim destination expeditiously and settled in for the long haul, awaiting the opening of the buffet car.


London, I can safely say, is not a place designed for cats. The escalators on the underground attempted to eat my tail several times, and did not react in the slightest to my scowled objections. I also found the populace a touch acrimonious much to my abhorrence. However, away from the city the camp was a welcome retreat, a fuel for my hedonistic tendencies. We were situated in a secluded spot next to a brook, a useful feature as we pulled out fresh fish to cook on our roaring camp fire that evening.

Mid week we went walking through the woods - gnarled oak trees and other deciduous varieties dappled the summer rays - a pleasant spot for a picnic. Whilst darting through the foliage Lucas made a fortuitous discovery, hidden amongst the bushes lay some Nepeta cataria, most unusual for this climate. A rub and a chew later we were sent into a state of kittenish euphoria, worryingly I don't remember much of that evening.

Home once again, the signs on the lamp posts at least show I was missed. My return journey was far from placid, a dog insensately broke free from his master's grasp and left Lucas traumatised as it bolted down the carriage. Nonetheless the farce was soon forgotten as we were promptly upgraded to first class due to the inconvenience. One lump or two, sir?