I was properly mortified on Thursday evening when I opened an email from Frances at Heywood Hill inviting me to the launch of the new Capuchin Classic, Nancy Mitford's Highland Fling. Regular readers of this blog will know that I am a great fan of the mint green voyage of rediscovery that is Capuchin. The reason for the mortification is two fold. Firstly, by the time I opened the email, the party had practically already started, and secondly, I couldn't go in any case, as I was already on my way to St. Petersburg.It was our first time in the "Ve
nice of the north" and in Russia and what a time it was. We had a wonderful taste of Russian culture at the wedding of dear friends and topped it off with a splendid tour of some of the city's sights before dragging out weary and sleep-deprived bodies back home last night.
nice of the north" and in Russia and what a time it was. We had a wonderful taste of Russian culture at the wedding of dear friends and topped it off with a splendid tour of some of the city's sights before dragging out weary and sleep-deprived bodies back home last night.How much reading did I do? Well, not as much as planned. I spent most of the flight out sad about having missed the Capuchin bash, and most of the flight home, fast asleep. I feel like a very naughty book blogger. The book that I had with me, and which I did read a bit of was Nancy Mitford's Love in a Cold Climate - the lovely, if slightly dilapidated copy that you see here. More reflections on that; later.
