I was hunting around for photos for our visa application to Bhutan the other day when I found the Irishman’s secret stash of passport pics in his desk drawer. To my horror and amusement, there were mounds and mounds of them, little fossilised souvenirs of the Irishman captured at various points in our history. And they hardly even look like the same guy – I must admit if I saw the guy in the top right hand corner I’d cross to the other side of the road and reach for the pepper spray!
Now this is just going to exacerbate the Mornington Peninsula myth that we are secret spies (The posh Chinese wife who speaks 5 languages and claims to like “rural living”, the Irishman banker-turned-vigneron cover story, the strange looking tower in the backyard…).
I’d write more but a mysterious lurker has popped up behind my computer to remind me that we have tickets to see Skyfall this evening…