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The Blog of Phileas Fogg: October 5th 1872

From: Harry Hayfield <welshliberaldemocrat~at~yahoo.co.uk>
Date: Thu, 5 Oct 2006 16:48:22 +0100
To: "Jules Verne Forum" <jvf~at~Gilead.org.il>

BlankAt last, out of that blasted train and able to breathe in some fresh
air at last. Fresh sea air I hasten to add. That's right, I'm on board the
Mongolia and can look forward now to at least two weeks of unbridled sea air
(well, as unbridled as I will get it as I am most likely to be found playing
whist), but I dare say I'll come on deck occasionally to do a little bit of
astronomy and perhaps some shuffleboard as well. After all, I am English!

Which came as a bit of a suprise to some ruffians in Brindisi today.
Passepartout suggested that we have a meal at a dockside restaurant before
boarding and as we were now in Italy I suggested pasta. And a very nice
restaurant it was as well. There was a local string trio playing some
Italian music and as for the food, well, I decided to ask the waiter for the
recipe and shall give it to the cooks at the Reform Club when I get back.
And that's when the trouble started. As I came back from the kitchen, I,
Passepartout and everyone in the restaurant heard a loud shriek. We turned
around and saw a woman, clearly in distress, shouting at a sailor who was
sniffing her flowers and then for no reason ripped them to shreds.

Passepartout explained that he knew a little Italian and that the sailor
wasn't going to pay the 25 lira charge and rubbed salt in the wound by
handing the stalks back to the woman. Well, I wasn't going to stand for that
and so got up and decided to talk to them. I patted the woman on the
shoulder, smiled and then addressed the sailor. Now, clearly he didn't
understand a word I said but when I mimed a defensive position indicating
that I didn't want any trouble, the sailor laughed loudly and adopted a
similar pose.

Passepartout ran up and told me that I'd been challenged to a fight. I
handed my hat to him and went outside. "Queensbury rules?" I asked, but was
clearly mistaken as the sailor lunged at me with a knife. "So that's the
way, eh?" I asked and backed away. Only to walk straight into another sailor
who was at least six feet tall and very big. I later learned from
Passepartout they were all members of the same crew and appeared to have a
Musketeer attitude to them. Now, I know Monsieur Dumas personally and have
to say that I don't think he would like his idea taken in such a liberal
manner. Anyway, I decided that if they weren't going to play by the
Queensbury rules, then neither would I!. First to feel my objections was the
sailor behind me as I hit him in the stomach with my cane. Another sailor
charged at me and so my cane visited his head, then another sailor's knee
before finally tripping up the orginal sailor and giving him a good whacking
on his posteria!

Well, the woman was overjoyed and Passepartout had to stop her smothering me
with kisses. I asked for the bag and handed her a crisp £10 note and asked
Passepartout to tell her to change it into lira as payment for the flowers
that the sailors damaged. As he did, I bowed to her, put on my hat and
walked towards the docks. It is times like this I am proud to be English
(and have a good sports teacher at Eton!)

So as I said at the beginning, I can now look forward to at least a
fortnight of travelling on the high seas before our next port of call in
Suez on October 9th. Mmm, I wonder if Passepartout's any good at whist?

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Received on Thu 05 Oct 2006 - 21:29:57 IST

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