I really can’t moan about life in Dorset. People are nice to me and I’ve been accepted into the community. The locals find me to be endearing, a bit like one of those dogs that’s so ugly that it’s almost cute and madder than a box of frogs as an added bonus. Or, at worst, I’ve been accepted like a bad harvest or a squall the night before the biggest night of fishing. In relatively short order I was given a part-time position with enough hours to pay for my daily expenses — including my Waitrose and hand roasted coffee/hand blended tea tendencies. The landlady has made me her substitute innkeeper. She lets out rooms. In her absence, I will manage the house and sort out the housekeeping.
The only thing that sometimes gets to me is the same thing that gets to many people here. It’s bloody boring. Not to worry. I will go to Japan in October with Viking-type chum. That will be interesting. In a country where everything is said in allusion and euphemism, I will have to mind someone from a country where anything short of the most brutal honesty is considered a major character flaw. Before then, I will fly to Liverpool for a long weekend. Having taken our OZ’s recommendations into serious consideration, I’ve booked a room in L4 within minutes of the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Although a non-traveller myself I enjoy reading of your many journeys on this fine planet of ours, Christopher. Landing on Dorset’s door step, not that I know much about the place, doesn’t seem a final nesting place for you. I wish you well in finding your El Dorado.
Sussex, like Dorset, is gloriously boring. The alternative is unthinkable if the priorities are peace and harmony.
In general, I really can’t complain about life in Dorset. I do not lack anything and I have a comfortable, albeit busy, life. It’s something I’ve craved for a long time and something I don’t regret finding. Sometimes, I need to step out to see something else, to have a change of wallpaper, to borrow the German term. More importantly, the question I ask to justify a move has not been answered in the affirmative. That is, “would my life be better”?
Thus, I will for the time being remain in Dorset with the occasional sojourn away from the county for a few days or weeks.
Far better to be gloriously bored than attacked by some ravening wog in any English city!
Liverpool, my arse! You need your head testing!
One generally pays good money to keep away from such rat holes these days.
CO: Liverpool has some very good museums. I quite like Scousers, too. My reasons for going are fairly personal, but it’s something that I should have done a long time ago.
Well don’t expose a mobile phone and carry a pepper spray.
Actually I don’t think wog peasantry ‘do’ museums, they can’t read the labels. One ought to be safe!
CO: I survived Los Angeles, Oakland, San Francisco and Reno. I’m really good at coming off as an unhinged psycho. People tend to be scared of me and give me at least 100 yards of space.