The things whose name must not be spoken

I saw a friend of mine who runs a charity shop here in Bath last night, stepping out of the door wearing these and about to walk through town in them for a bet. I told her to watch out for Canadians wearing plaid shirts and carrying base-ball bats - she might get a few broken toes.

I'm off to the Isle of Portland in a minute. I'm going to select some stone for the next couple of projects. I'll take a camera just in case there's anything interesting to show you when I get back - which maybe tomorrow as we might spend the night in the area for a little holiday.

Portland is called an 'island', but it is connected to the Dorset coast by a thin road flanked on one side by the mighty Chesil Beach, and a Ministry of Defence naval base on the other. A German bird-watcher friend parked up near the base some years ago and began looking through his binoculars at the local wildlife. A few minutes later, Military Police arrived and arrested him. When he arrived at the interview room in the inside, they knew his name, address, date of birth and place of residence - all from the French number-plate on his old Renault 4. It took him about 4 hours to be released.

Interesting if confusing fact: If you say the word 'rabbits' in a pub on Portland (or anywhere else there) you will be taken outside and soundly beaten by the locals. It is virtually illegal to say the name of the creatures when on the island. I'm not sure why, and I'm not sure if they know either. I'll have to try to stop myself.