The internet is a queer old thing. I write this quaint little blog about a quaint little corner of Londonshire, not knowing where my lovely listeners are.
Having just checked the ridiculously complex hit counter, the only section I understand is the map of the World - it's a pretty picture, okay. This tells me that I have a lovely listener in Poland, one in Egypt, one in Pakistan, one in Mexico, one in the U.S. Virgin Islands (where the hell is that?). Of course, there are a few more in the UK and US of A, but I'm still wondering why someone in the Virgin Islands would be reading about daily murder and bloodshed on the streets of downtown Plumsteadshire? They must think The Common is like a township of Brazilian favelas.
Dear Sir or Madam of the Virgin Islands,
Plumstead Common is NOTHING like the hit film City Of God. Here, the men doff their bowler hats and lay down their capes as genteel ladies promenade around the Common. [This can either be interpreted as either an early 20th Century idyll or a scene from The Prisoner].
Be seeing you