Tootling into Bootle

As you can see, I hit the pick ‘n’ mix this afternoon I’m afraid. Sweeties are my only consolation at the moment. Mummy and I aren’t on good terms ... oh, I'm sorry. You don't want to hear my problems (GET A GRIP PENGUIN)!

Let's start again. Isn’t that Queensway tunnel just the pip?! It was a discombobulating experience imagining that I was deep below the River Mersey, but it was all over in a jiffy and quite thrilling on reflection. There are two road tunnels under this famous river and I’m keen to try the other one – I wonder which is best?

I had a marvellous time today in Bootle. The experience was bracing, nothing but welcoming, friendly people.

I mentioned earlier how many Wirral smokers had given up the fags last year, and there’s a similarly thrilling figure to be found here in Bootle. Sefton PCT Stop Smoking Service assisted 2,522 people in a similar fashion!

But for all this success and good cheer, I don’t mind telling you I’m a bit piqued, and I can't hold back any longer. As I mentioned above, it's dearest mummy. Though back home on the ice, she's been kitted out with broadband having heard about the blog.

I’ve now received a fair old flea in my ear. It seems she’s none too impressed with me, particularly some of the photos. Do you remember when I was in Crewe and that charming young lady gave me a beck on the beak? Mummy didn’t approve.

So, I’m in the bad books. Hence the binge - two chocolate limes and an Uncle Joe's Mint Ball. Oops.

Burnley tomorrow, see you then!