I’m a little muzzy of head today after the British Guild Of Travel Writers awards night at the Savoy last night, which I think I left at about three o’clock this morning. The whole thing was a pip and a dandy, and dandy was the word for your correspondent who was resplendent in best bib and tucker for the first time since being principal percussionist in the school orchestra in about 1986.
The Kansas and Oklahoma film was premiered on the big screen, and, I’m glad to say, featured my dead-eye marksmanship at skeet shooting. It also featured an inordinate amount of my singing at the Cottonwood Falls bluegrass festival, but you can’t have everything.
Right, off to World Travel Market I go, to break the second of my self-imposed codes. Last night I wore evening dress, today I go to an event where everyone wears name badges. My principles, irrational as they are, are now shot to pieces. Rather like the clay discs I was expertly picking off over the lake at Tiger Mountain Ranch, in fact.