Prague

Apologies for the delay in updating. Work, life, and, yes, lethargy, have often prevented me updating this blog since my return from Prague. It really is the oddest thing. During working hours I am ever vigilant and am very harsh on myself if the smallest detail is neglected. There is always so much to do, and I am eager to do it. When I get home after work, and close the door to my flat at the top of the House, my will to be active sometimes fades away, to be replaced by a lethargic feeling which I can only describe as 'Pointless Slumptitude'. I suffer from this malady occasionally. Just lately it has been rampant.

I greatly approve of Prague. An interesting place. The people were all very friendly. They have, over the years, had a penchant for throwing people out of windows (defenestration) but, happily, this mania seems to have passed. My hotel was merely a tram-ride from the centre of town. I was, however, placed in an extremely small room at the top of said hotel. It felt like a footman's quarters from years ago (which, of course, it might well have been at one time). I like exposed beams in buildings, it adds character. I like them slightly less when I smack my head against them at regular intervals. The room was so small (lets be polite and say 'cosy') that everytime I got out of bed and stood upright my head was in grave danger of being hammered into my neck. I believe I have returned to Britain at least a couple of inches shorter than whan I left. At least the window in my room was small. No chance of defenestration here, I remember thinking with satisfaction. Unfortunately there was little chance of light entering either.

I think had I gone away for several years, I would still have found, on returning, that very little had changed at Carstone House. It is a comforting feeling to have. Everything seems to have been quite calm in my absence. In London, Mr Miles, caused quite a stir apparently when a party trick he was performing went badly wrong, but I did not ask for details. London is many miles away, and what happens there, stays there, in my opinion. Apart from that the gossip in the Servant's Hall was rather light. Mr Llywelyn, with permission from Sir Geoffrey, conducted a special 'ghost walk' around the grounds on Halloween. This proved very popular. Many people came from the local village and from further afield. I did not attend but saw them snake by torchlight to various parts of Carstone Park from my bedroom window. Not really my thing. I commend Llywelyn for his business sense, however. He raised quite a lot of money for charity. Flushed with this success I am sure he will be pursuing the 'Transparent Pound' with assiduity from now on.

I shall attempt to apply myself to this diary. I really must crack on with it. No more excuses. Did Samuel Pepys miss a few weeks because of 'Pointless Slumptitude'? Did Chips Channon or Virginia Woolf? What about those great Czech diarists like, Kafka (probably), even with the sinister shadow of defenstration looming over them, I'm sure they remained jolly, and knuckled down to recording the day's events.