No Proper Breeding At All

Well my dears, no doubt you have been absolutely glued to your laptops anxiously awaiting a new post from yours truly.  Perhaps you have been wondering if I had come to blows with Smithers my butler, or had been on a long voyage on the Queen Mary 2. 

No I am afraid that I had just become rather poorly after a horrendous experience with one of those fake aristocrats from Sydney. She had latched onto me at a charity luncheon, and gave the impression to the surrounding media that we were the best of friends. 

I ask you.  Would I want to associate with a woman whose voice was so loud, I was certain the Melbournians could hear every word? And she was wearing a most distasteful canary yellow and dark blue striped suit. The skirt was so short that when she bent over everyone could see her matching blue and yellow striped under garment. Honestly she looked like a Fowl dressed up as a spring chicken.

In front of the media, and giving the impression that we had known each other since the cradle, she absolutely insisted that I join her on a bus trip to the Hunter Valley to sample some wines that a friend of hers had created.

I was horrified.  I never traveled anywhere by bus, but it was clear by her insistent tone that she had no idea of the enormity of her request, and the impact this might have on me with my friends at the croquet club. So I reluctantly agreed to go.

I don't want to bore you with the details of my ghastly experience on the stuffy vehicle, suffice to say that the coach driver had no idea how to speak the Queen's English, and was dressed as if he was heading off to a party on the beach. And to my absolute horror I discovered on arriving at our hotel, that we were to share a room! Apparently there had been some mis-communication on her part and the entire hotel was full of noisy wine guzzling philistines,

There was no pheasant or venison on the menu at the hotel either, and my companion humiliated me by ordering roasted rump of crocodile, and making hideous slurping sounds as she used a straw to suck up the last few drops of ice cream from her iced coffee.

And to make matter's worse, her friend at the vineyard seemed to have no idea about where I could find a decent glass of sherry.  So I have been recovering ever since my dear friends.

I tried to book myself on the QE2 on its first trip to Sydney, but it was sold out and as you know I only travel on an ocean liner if it is on its maiden voyage.  So please forgive my absence of posts.  Hopefully the next one will be a little more cheerful
Yours despondently,
Lady O.