The Lost City of Atlantis

Oh dear, Oh dear. I am feeling most unwell today.
Yesterday was a Bank Holiday and, as is usual on such occassions, I decided to have a little expedition. I took down my 101 Adventures To Do Before You Die book and flicked through the pages to find something exciting. There aren't many in there that I haven't already done, but one entry in particular took my fancy. Rediscover Atlantis! Yes, I thought... that looks like a fun little jaunt.
Gavin and I hastily prepared the necessary equipment and made some sandwiches and set off towards the coast. There was one only one thing that weighed heavy on my mind and was causing me some concern. No-one knew where the Lost City of Atlantis was! With only a single day set aside for this trip I was worried we might not find it...
So, with some trepidation we set off on a little submaricycle we had chartered, heading due West. After some time we took a right and then the next left and Lo! There it was! Atlantis! We got off the submaricycle and wandered around a little. It was staggeringly beautiful... unfortunately, in the hurry to leave I had omitted to pack my camera so don't have any pictures to show you. (Perhaps I shall draw some from memory at a later date)
We sat on the steps of the Grand Hall in the main forum and took lunch (through specially constructed eating hatches on our underwater helmets, before you get all nit-pickily) and marveled at the sheer splendour of it all whilst strange little fish swam around us. After that we got up and shoved as much treasure and trinkets as we could manage into our rucksacks and headed home. It was the best day I've had for a long time.
However, my good fortune was not to last. As we reached shore and began unpacking our finds into my carriage who should pass by but the infamously debauched Lord Arthwipe. I could see him eyeing my jewels and knew he was up to something.
"One is having a little get-together at my mansion this evening and would be most grateful if you could attend." He slurred.
I tried to think of an excuse, but found myself unable to do so. "Er, yes. Ok, then." I replied. Drat! Drat! Drat! I knew I was getting myself into trouble.
Lord Arthwipe suggested we all go round there straight away and soon we found ourselves at his sprawling estate. As the huge black doors slammed behind us Lord Arthwipe turned and said the words I had been dreading.
"Perhaps a little dab of Laudanum before the other guests arrive?"
Next thing I knew it was 4am and I was in Lord Arthwipe's barn massaging a pig. I also have some recollection of losing all my Atlantan treasure in a game of Gin-rummy. And I still can't find Gavin.
oooh, never again.

Mother's visit

I have been unable to attend to any of my adventurising this week as my dear old Mother has been down to visit from her country estate. She really doesn't like London and its inhabitants, or "Scumbags" as she calls them. Fortunately it was only a brief stay and I am now able to concentrate on more pressing matters.
However, I thought maybe I could take this opportunity to talk a little about my family as it may give you, the reader, an insight into why I became an Explorer.
My Mother, Consternita Durkin is heir to the Durkin Gherkin dynasty and when younger was viewed as a very desirable prospect for young society gentlemen. She, however, did not care for the limp suitors that were on offer and decided instead to travel around Europe, thus avoiding the subject of marriage. It was on these travels she met my late Father, Albert Fschniddle. As a Swiss pilchard fisherman he had very few prospects but was extremely handsome and soon my Mother and he began a relationship. Unlike many couple of the time they decided not to follow society's rules and marry as a business union or for social climbing, but for love. Unfortunately it turned out that it was a love of money on my Father's behalf and a love of pilchards from my Mother. The marriage was short-lived and disasterous. Almost as disasterous as their Pilchard and Gherkin Jam business venture. (I'm so glad that Wortha and I's relationship is built of stronger stuff. Wortha never complains when I go away on my expeditions, in fact she seems to really look forward to them..)

My Father left not long after I was born, but would always return on full moons to take me out on fishing excursions. He regaled me with tales of adventure and spoke of monsters from the deep, pirates, pilchards as big as a cow etc. etc. It was on one of these trips I decided to become an adventurer and explorator myself and as I walked back from the canal, waving goodbye to my Father, I vowed that I would never rest until I had become the greatest Explorator and Adventurist of all time. I never saw my Father after that night. Some say he died wrestling with a monster, others that he was swallowed by a giant pilchard. The papers say he was drunk and slipped on some dog shit and fell into the river, but those hacks will believe anything.

So, dear reader, that is a little glimpse into who I am. I hope it was illuminating. Now I must go and prepare my packed lunch, for who knows what exciting adventurisms tomorrow holds?

A walk in t'jungle... in glorious technicolour!

Using the latest filmographic techniques we have managed to capture a little stroll through the jungle. Prepare to be amazed as the pictures move, just like real life.

Stabbsy Fletcher

Here is one of my more shadowy acquaintances. A young jive-talking cockney urchin by the name of Stabbsy whose services I sometimes have need to call upon. Stabbsy and his crew (the Eastside Ragamuffin Massive) are my eyes and ears on the streets. Although only 3 feet tall he has quite literally carved out a very profitable business in the mean streets and alleyways around Soho. All those fancy media types go to see Stabbsy if they want anything. Women, drugs, stabbing. You name it Stabbsy can sort it. But he has to be home in time for tea or his Mum will go nuts.
He also spins a mean tune on the old Gramaphone and his parties are extraordinarily wicked.