Shem el Nessim: An inspiration in perfume
PART THREEIt was several days before I ascertained that Stan Tooprig had booked himself a cabin on a steamer at the Port of London. From my later research I found out it had been on a French-registered vessel named Cachous which, once she had left British coastal waters, sailed past Gibraltar into the Mediterranean and on to Alexandria, where Tooprig boarded a felucca — one of the small, lateen-rigged sailing boats that plied the Mahmoudieh Canal and the Nile — to Cairo. There was a train that transferred passengers from Alexandria but, strangely, Tooprig preferred the slower water route; it was as though he had been impeded by his sense of foreboding. By the time Tooprig arrived in Cairo, he was emaciated and his skin had the leathery appearance of the mummified corpse of Sethos I in the Cairo Museum. When I first set eyes on him, I wondered whether he was a morphine addict or was dying of some other terminal disease, but I didn’t like to ask. Read on…
posted by Chris Bell at 8:00 AM
2 Comments:
Funny,
We were talking about Germans only yesterday (nobody mentioned the war), at our daily dog owning racist club meeting at a local park.
We couldn't decide what was more disheartening, turning up at a world famous tourist attraction (eg, the Pont du Garde) and arriving at exactly the same time as a bus load of Germans, a bus load of Japanese, or a bus load of Brits.
Although one enterprising fellow who clearly had a lot of time to kill there discovered that when a mob reaches a Brit component of 35% a general melee will inevitably turn into an orderly queue.
A thought-provoking comment, Llew; partly because you've attached it to the wrong post. Author's disclaimer: ES GIBT KEINE DEUTSCHE IN MEINE KURZGESCHICHTE! Money back guarantee if not delighted. Although now you come to mention it, I do notice a few sun loungers with towels on them around the swimming pool.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home