This weekend is two-hundred years since the British won at Trafalgar. I only found this out because I walked around town today with my parents and we bumped into this huge son-et-lumière spectacle that was being prepared at - where else? - Trafalgar Square. It looked awful: with sails hanging from the poor National Galery and lots of navy people (Soldiers!) walking around, but the worst was the pompuous voice who was introducing Admiral Nelson from a first person perspective: "We're 27 ships, and across the horizon are the French and Spaniards, and I remember (follows a list with his naval battles) blah where I lost my arm, blah where I got famous etc., Duty, blah, I know all my captains very well, blah, they're great chaps. Blah. Blah. Blah." Bah, bah, bah: Dulce et Decorum est pro Patria Mori ... Scary stuff, all in all. The newspaper told me today there had been many other happenings, including dropping wreaths at Cape Trafalgar. Thankfully one of the ships present there was the HMS Chatham, which brought a smile of counter-nationalist smugness around my lips: thank you Michiel de Ruiter. The greatest booty he acquired there is still in the Rijksmuseum (the shield of England's flagship Royal Charles that Michiel towed back to Holland, see link for pic (clicker for bigger)). However, if the Netherlands ever prepare such a horrid nationalist feast in commemoration of that raid or something similar like, say, the capture of the "Silver Fleet", I'll .. I'll .. I'll be very angry indeed! Ha, that'll teach them ... Hmm ... Oh, and maybe I'll move to Sweden (which I might anyway, at some point in my life)

Anyway, moving on, and voor de rest: the play went very well yesterday: people actually laughed at me (they were supposed to) and I didn't even forget my lines! My flatmates were there, and people from my programme were there (who brought me a bunch of living bamboo sticks (is weer eens wat anders, niettan?) ), and of course my parents were there.

And, oh, before I forget: Anna, you will want to come back, I know you'll want to now that I have informed you that you missed Charles Dickens' home, which is literally 5 minutes walk from my place. And apparently most of his novels are located north of High Holborn, east of Gray's Inn Road and west of Russel Square (says my parent's guide book, which also has a Dickens walk).

Tot zover vandaags 'London Callling', terug naar Hilversum.