Waterloo

I've got a wee bit behind with my Darkest Africa posts what with a) being unable to source any matt varnish directly (until yesterday - God bless Harburn Hobbies) and b) because I was sent off to London on business this morning.  It was meant to be Shetland today but someone changed my itinerary.

Luckily, as I write this, I'm sitting on the train back from Kings Cross (First class - at only £6 more than 2nd class, you'd be mad not to) scoffing sausage and mash washed down with G&T.  I'm a first class kinda guy ...

Anyway, having been sent down here on some fool's errand relating to Isembard Kingdom Brunel and potential interactions with rare mammals (don't ask), I was reminded of some joke or other, as I got on the tube at a well known railway station just south of the Thames, which goes something like this:

Insignificant man at party trying to impress haughty female:
"You know, one of my ancestors fell at Waterloo."

Suitably languid reply:
"Oh really?  Which platform."

(c.1907)