A Rosy-Lipped Batfish (real photo)
For more odd pix of eccentric creatures, click here
I’m now visiting the exercise bikes at the gym most days. In the programming section, I put my age down as “60” when no-one’s looking, then I peddle like an old person with my pulse at 124 bpm. It’s very boring, but there are lots of vast widescreen TVs in the bike section, so I sit there watching various friends and acquaintances reading the news with very large wide heads. I know I’ll have nightmares about this.
The dizziness is still terrible. Everything wobbles all the time. It’s like being trapped in a home video shot by an alcoholic. I fell over backwards yesterday and smashed my favourite lamp. But I’m seeing my GP on Monday, so no doubt all will be well.
Hertford now has a Caffè Nero, which is excellent. The coffee’s very good and it’s very well located for people-watching. But an odd question occurred to me this morning over my Regular Latte – Why is it called Caffè Nero? Nero was a dissolute maniac who just sat there and fiddled (well, actually played his lyre) when Rome was burning. What next? A Caligula Teashop on Fore Street. A Hitler Patisserie on Parliament Square?
Chester and the rabbit
I was amused to read an amazing story of rabbit derring-do in today’s Times.
Chester the dog, from Richmond North Yorkshire, loves chasing rabbits. And he was doing just that when the rabbit in question (see photos) decided to dive into a pond and swim for it.
But Chester almost caught up. So the rabbit decided there was only one option – to scramble on to Chester’s back and cling on till they were back on terra firma. Chester couldn’t reach the rabbit and swam for dry land, whereupon the rabbit darted into a bush and escaped.
So it ended happily ever after…for the rabbit. Hurrah.