Back in harness

Well after a decent period to allow the dust to settle, and certain East European bears to lose interest, Oi have decided that it is save for me to return to moi place of learnin'.

On the way there Oi met a new friend. His name is curly and it happened loike this.

Oi was trundlin' down the road to Oxford when Oi started to feel a bit peckish. (Actually it was after about three or four minutes of the journey, but that is not important to the flow of this narrative.) Oi stopped at the side of the road and started a small burrow with a view to finding some tasty invertebrates. Oi couldn't believe moi luck when almost immediately Oi laid paws on a wriggly tail. Oi pulled and pulled to get it free, but as Oi did so, the creature got larger and larger. Within a few moments, he had transformed from light snack, through tasty morsel, satisfying repast, and heavy meal to feast o' gluttony size. Then his head appeared and Oi was able to glean that the large worm Oi had been attempting to capture was in fact a snake, and what was more he seemed to be capturing me! He had wrapped several coils around me and his face was slithering around to strike a mortal blow! As his head swivelled round to face me, however, Oi realised that the mask of reptilian vengeance Oi had anticipated was in fact a cheery smiling face, with just a touch of loopiness around the eyes. He introduced himself as "Curly" - short for Curly Wurly apparently - and we have since become firm friends. Particularly firm in the sense that, once coiled on a body, this chap is extremely difficult to shift. Oi don't mind too much though - he's a friendly chap and at least he's keeping those cheeky squirrels away!

That's it, I'm off!

Vladimir was very insistent that Oi went along to see his troupe perform, so Oi agreed to go with him. When we got to the "King George Bar" it wasn't a pub at all but a large room in a building that was full of electronic equipment. Vladimir put a tape in a machine and played some traditional Russian music. I must admit that he dances very well, and Oi clapped along with the music happily for a while. But the Oi got to thinking about a few things:
1. Where were all the other "Folk dancers? One bear doesn't make a troupe in my view. 2. Do you really need such a huge satellite dish "to get good reception on Radio 4"? and 3. Why were there so many photographs of secret installations pinned to the wall? Oi decided it was time to leave and as soon as Vladimir turned to find a new tape, Oi was off as fast as me little legs could take Oi.

Oi have decided that it's time to leave Oxford for a whoile. Fortunately, The Boy is going for the holidays, so I'm going to tag along for a bit. Oi'm not froightened you understand, it's just what us molers call "Discretion". See you next term!

An old friend??

So there was Oi, stranded in the middle of the High Street, quite uncertain of where to go, but with money in moi paw. Oi decided to take a walk down the High Street and see if there are any shops selling tasty invertebrates, or objects of a shoiny nature. Oi hadn't got far when Oi felt a tap on moi shoulder. Oi turned round to see a large, furry and not very friendly face staring down at me. Oi looked at him for a few moments, unable to believe moi eyes. But there he was large as loife and twice as ugly - Vladimir the Russian Bear. (We have had a number of unpleasant exchanges in the past. As a former employee of the Soviet Union, Vladimir resorted to somewhat unusual business methods, many of which resulted in narrow escapes for yours truly).

For a few moments Oi didn't know whether to run or talk moi way out of the situation with moi legendary charm. As Oi was laden down with this gurt heavy Russian Banjo, Oi decided on the latter. "Well, what a pleasure to see 'ee after all these years", Oi said, smiling winningly. "Never mind that, Tovarich Mole", said Vladimir, "I think you know what I have come for".
"Not for poor little me?", Oi gibbered.
"No, you foolish insectivore", he replied, " You took my instrument from my courier. Now you must return it".
"What instrument", Oi said, hiding the suspiciously shaped case behind my back. But it was too late, and I had to hand it over. It turned out that Vladimir is now a member of a Russian Folk Music and Dance Ensemble and had arranged for the group's instruments to be sent on ahead. As I had returned without too much of a struggle, he invited me to witness an impromptu performance. All I had to do was meet him at the King George Bar later that night.

I suppose those initials should have been a warning...

A Mole must earn his keep

Well, Oi didn't fancy walking all the way back to The Boy's College. As Moi close friends will know, Oi am not built for long distance trundlin'.

So Oi decided that Oi must raise some money. Oi was just cogitating on how to do this, when along came a shifty looking man in a furry hat with a strange guitar case. He looked at me and said "The squirrels of winter have left for the coast". "Weird" Oi thought, but thought it's polite to answer a stranger, and so Oi said back to him "Yes, and Cyril's gone off to the park with his mates". The man looked at me strange, and then shrugged, gave me the guitar case and ran off. What an odd man Oi thought, and then had a brain wave. Oi'm a musical mole, Oi could busk for a few pounds! Oi opened the case and found the strangest looking instrument Oi'd ever seen. It was triangular, but best of all it had exactly the right number of strings for a Mole - three! Oi picked it up and started to play. It must have been sweet music because almost immediately a man came over and offered me a fiver if Oi would play in Cowley. The strange thing was that he said he lived in Abingdon. He'd never hear me from there silly man!

After a few minutes, Oi'd earned enough to get Moiself a taxi home, and packed away the Balalaika (that's what somebody said it was) in its case. Oi hailed a cab, and told the driver to take me home by the quickest route, stopping only at the fudge shop for a little treat. We set off and Oi was enjoying the view out of the windows when Oi became sure that we were being followed. Strange - who'd want to follow a Mole and his mysterious Russian folk instrument?

Ahhh, This is 'ee loife!

Things were looking pretty drastic for a few moments, Oi can tell 'ee. How was Oi supposed to know that rafts are supposed to be tied together? Oi mean, why can't the twigs just sort of float in formation? Anyway, they don't and Oi soon found my beautiful velvet fur looking very bedraggled. It could have got much worse if it hadn't been for a funny sort of flat boat comeing along in the nick of time. It was being poled along by a smart young lad in a blazer and straw boater. But none of that mattered, because Oi was spotted by the passenger in the boat who said something approximately like "Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelookatthe littlemoleohisn'thegorgeouscanIkeephimIwillstrokehimandpethimandcallhimGeorge" etc etc etc. Well it was a bit embarrassing, but any punt in a storm as us seafaring molers say. So Oi just snuggled up, said "Love 'ee" and soaked up the adulation all the way to the punting station.

That's where moi problems started again - Oi said goodbye to moi rescuers and trundled off into the street, only to find that Oi was further away from the Boy's college than ever!

Mole meets Vole

Oi 'm not ashamed to admit that Oi felt just a little bit apprehensive when Oi found moiself on the wrong side of the river. But Oi am not known as the indomitable mole for nothing. Oi girded up me loins and set to thinking about how to get across. Oi thought of tunneling of course, but it would mean going down a long way to avoid the risk of extremely damp fur occurring. Oi was deep in thought when Oi heard a loud squeak behind me. Turning around Oi saw a round furry face with small ears and neat whiskers. For the first time (in this story anyway) Mole had met Vole!

Vincent (for that was his name) was a most helpful rodent, and offered to help me build a raft. With his sharp teeth, he was able to nibble through some nice twigs and I arranged them together in a raft shape. Vincent muttered something about going and finding some nice reeds to tie the twigs together, but I was in too much of a hurry to wait for mere decoration like that.

It may have been a mistake in retrospect. After only a few moment the raft showed an alarming tendency towards floating off in all directions at once. It looked like Captain Mole was going to go down with his ship - maiden voyage and all! (And no Kate Winslet to cry over me either).

A Nice River Cruise

Oi wandered around the Park for quite a while without seeing any familiar landmarks. Eventually Oi ended up by a big round pond, and sat down to try to think what to do next. Oi must have been rather tired, because Oi dropped off to sleep. Oi was awakened by the feeling of somebody pecking my bottom! Oi opened moi eyes to see that Oi was surrounded by a horde of ducks, all demanding bread. Things looked bad for a moment until Oi recognised an old friend, Dave the Dissertation Duck. He was able to explain that Oi am a friend of the Boy, who apparently frequently comes to feed them. so everything was fine then and they offered to give me a ride on the River. This was great fun, and Oi rode up and down for ages, waving to lesser animals on the river banks. After ages, the ducks dropped me off on the bank and wandered off to blag some nice rustic wholemeal off a bunch of students. Oi left 'em to it, as Oi've already discovered that students, although they have many disgusting things in their pockets, never have worms. It was just as the last duck disappeared round the corner that I discovered an alarming fact - they had dropped me off on the wrong bank! Oi was even further away from home and safety!