Just back from another trip to Stockholm- stayed on a yacht/hotel built in the 1920's (was an 18th birthday present to Woolworth heiress Barbara Hutton). It was all polished wood and brass, evocative of a bygone age. At breakfast I half expected Hercule Poirot to clamp a hand on my shoulder and accuse me of some kind of over elaborate murder- "J'accuse! You, with the buttered croissant and the laundry maid!"
The trip was fun- but I hate packing and double checking everything before I leave for the airport.
A cartoon of mine from Private Eye...this one has proved quite popular.
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