Friday, 15 December 2006

Between London and Ipswich without passing out

In London incognito

I can imagine that friends, cousins and relations would be cross with me visiting London and not informing them – I have reasons, which might not sound valid to them, but are essential for me.

The last time I was in the UK, I informed so many people and got so swamped that it was impossible for me to get anything done talk less of spending quality time with all these lovely people.

This time, the ones who know are so far out of town that the obligatory visit would not be exacted on the little time one has.

Ma’am and I this morning

So, I spent the morning reviewing the passing out parade of Prince William with the Queen by my side, sometimes one has to step out to grace royal meetings, even Ms. Kate Middleton’s hat was well-worn as it crossed my mind that if she tried to appear more glamorous than her prospective step-mother in-law she might accidentally prick her finger on a spinning-wheel as one does and a hundred years would pass in the bliss of being the 21st Century Sleeping Beauty.

Though, that is an apt reference considering the Prince could not exceed the 2 guest quota to the dinner celebrating his passing-out, my having rescinded a place did not mean Ms. Middleton could step up to that plate – such is life with the Firm.

Ipswich Town going down

One piece of news pervading the headlines in the UK concerns Ipswich, at one time in my life, I died in Ipswich for 2 years – it is my opinion you cannot live there – times when I tried to make friends the prospects ended up being hostile.

In fact, I slept over at one such “friend’s” place having worked most of the evening helping to recover data, just before 3:00AM the next morning, an armed response team broke down the door and entered the building with assault weapons, I could have been on the set of Lethal Weapon VI; the day before he had threatened his business partner with whom he has disagreements with a possible gun attack.

That put paid of trying to make friends in Ipswich, you make one and you are in a mysterious world of fear and terror, ever to loath all moments – that is just my experience.

Cardinal Wolsey, the catholic cardinal who could not arrange a divorce for Henry VIII bequeath some things to Ipswich, Ipswich is definitely an old town, Chaucer, martyrs and witch-burning in nearby Manningtree a charter that dates back to 1200.

The Suffolk Strangler

So, 5 women who probably were prostitutes and had drug dependency problems have been found murdered and dumped in rivers and fields around Ipswich and there is the possibility of another missing woman, who has been found safe and well.

Somehow, if anyone is missing for more than 5 minutes, panic first and think after, that is the pall of fear that fill the townspeople with irrational anxiety.

Not to talk of just one new opportunity to play up xenophobia as some now suspect a Polish builder who drives a Be My Wife (the irony of seeing prostitutes) – BMW – might have been sowing his wild oats and turned Jack the Ripper – err – the Suffolk Strangler, a good distraction till the facts are better gathered.

In all, if I have nothing to contribute to improving the reputation of Ipswich, I might as well end here – what a place, what a tragedy.

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