Authors: Karl Pilkington
Aunty Nora
l
i
k
e
d
h
er
d
ay out wit
h
me an
d
gave me a
w
ra
pp
e
d
-u
p
b
ott
l
e as a
g
i
f
t t
h
at I
p
resume
d
was some sort
of
w
h
is
k
e
y
. I o
p
ene
d
it on t
h
e train to
fi
n
d
it was a
b
ott
l
e
o
f
G
aviscon.
I TRIED TO TAKE A SHORTCUT to the London
A
quarium but got lost. I ended up in a part of Lon
d
on I’
d
never
b
een to
b
e
f
ore, ca
ll
e
d
S
t
J
ames’s. It’s a rea
lly
p
os
h
pl
ace. I cou
ld
te
ll
t
h
is
by
t
h
e s
h
o
p
s – t
h
ere was a
h
at s
h
o
p
,
y
ac
h
t s
h
o
p
, twee
d
j
ac
k
ets s
h
o
p
,
b
rie
f
case s
h
o
p
an
d
cigar shop.
T
h
ere were no customers in any of them.
T
h
e
most interesting place was an art shop that was crammed
f
u
ll
o
f
stu
ff
. Paintin
g
s on to
p
o
f
p
aintin
g
s, ornaments on to
p
o
f
stu
ff
e
d
anima
l
s,
fi
s
h
in woo
d
en
b
oxes, c
l
oc
k
s, so
l
diers’ hats, swords, tob
y
j
u
g
s, old doctors’ sur
g
er
y
kits, and a human skeleton
,
who for all I know could have been the
l
ast customer w
h
o went in to
b
rowse an
d
en
d
e
d
up
b
ein
g
h
it on t
h
e
h
ea
d
by
t
h
e stu
ff
e
d
moose
h
ea
d
t
h
at was
ly
ing
f
ace-
d
own on t
h
e
fl
oor. In prime position was a
f
ossi
l
fi
s
h
wit
h
a si
g
n sa
y
in
g
it was 58 mi
ll
ion
y
ears o
ld
. I
f
it’s
b
een around that lon
g
and still no one’s bou
g
ht it, it’s clear to me that no one wants it. The shop was like a museum
w
ith price tags. I would have gone in to see more, but the
o
wner wasn’t t
h
ere. T
h
e
y
’
d
p
ut a si
g
n on t
h
e
d
oor wit
h
t
h
eir
ph
one num
b
er as
k
in
g
customers to ca
ll
i
f
t
h
e
y
wante
d
to buy something. I don’t know how this shop survives, e
specially in this posh area. I can’t imagine some millionaire
wh
o’
d
just
b
oug
h
t a yac
h
t wou
ld
a
l
so
b
e on t
h
e
l
oo
k
out
f
o
r
a stu
ff
e
d
toa
d
(w
h
ic
h
was
p
rice
d
at £27 – I
d
on’t
k
now i
f
t
h
at’s a
b
ar
g
ain or not).
I
t’s difficult trying to get directions off people in London
cos everyone seems to be a tourist, so they either didn’t un
d
erstan
d
me or
j
ust
d
i
d
n’t
k
now. I
k
e
p
t wa
lk
in
g
unti
l
I
f
oun
d
m
y
se
lf
in a
f
ami
l
iar
p
art o
f
Lon
d
on. It was Par
l
i
a
ment Square, where Brian Haw was still out protesting on the green. He has been there for years, day and night in his tent, wit
h
h
is
b
anners an
d
p
l
aques covere
d
in
b
a
d
ges ca
m
p
ai
g
nin
g
a
g
ainst war an
d
as
k
in
g
f
or
p
eace. (Even t
h
ou
gh
h
e ta
k
es t
h
e matter serious
ly
h
e sti
ll
h
a
d
room
f
or a
h
umorous
b
adge that said “give peas a chance”.) I don’t think there’s much chance of him getting any peace round this part o
f
L
on
d
on, t
h
ou
gh
, as it’s one o
f
t
h
e
b
usiest roun
d
a
b
outs in
t
h
e West En
d
, an
d
on top o
f
a
ll
t
h
e tra
ffi
c noise, Big Ben
g
oes o
ff
ever
y
h
our. I
f
oun
d
it interestin
g
h
ow Brian was
p
re
p
ared to
g
ive his time for free to s
p
read the word about his beliefs, and yet the fella who made money from flogging dead toads couldn’t be bothered to turn up to work.
I
g
ot to t
h
e
A
q
uarium a
l
ot
l
ater t
h
an
pl
anne
d
, w
h
ic
h
w
asn’t
g
oo
d
as it was cramme
d
wit
h
k
i
d
s on t
h
eir Easte
r
holiday. I joined the queue. In front of me was a
G
e
r
man
f
amily of four, who all wore glasses (I can’t believe tourists
w
it
h
b
a
d
eyes
f
oun
d
t
h
eir way
h
ere an
d
yet I strugg
l
e
d
), an
d
b
e
h
in
d
me was an Iris
h
woman wit
h
two
y
oun
g
k
i
d
s, one in a
p
ram. I
d
on’t
k
now w
hy
it was in a
p
ram as it was o
ld
enough keep asking for a McDonald’s.
Fifteen minutes later and £14 quid out of
pocket, I was in. £14 seeme
d
a
b
it muc
h
. I
should
h
ave
j
ust
g
one to Se
lf
ri
dg
es
fi
s
h
counter and asked the fella behind the
counter about what he had on offer. I
co
u
ld
h
ave
l
earnt just as muc
h
a
b
out
fi
s
h
f
rom
h
im as t
h
e
y
h
ave a massive
se
l
ection, an
d
I’
d
g
et to touc
h
’em or
even eat one. That’s the odd thing
with fish: we like to look at them and
k
ee
p
t
h
em as
p
ets,
b
ut we a
l
so
l
i
k
e
to eat them – yet we moan about Koreans who do the same
w
it
h
t
h
eir
p
et
d
o
g
s
.