Tuesday, 24 April 2012

The Secret Diary of an Edwardian Country Lady Vampyre Hunter (part IV)

The cataclysmic events which brought me here were now but a distant memory
as I perched above the blackened void which presented itself before me. I had to 
summon the courage to proceed and after what seemed like an eternity I finally
made the move. I took one step onto the cold and damp flagstone stairs that 
disappeared below the ancient building into the impending bowels of hell. One
after the other my footsteps echoed around the inky blackness as I descended,
On reaching the base of my only means of escape I stopped and breathed the stale,
dank air of the crypt. Somewhere ahead in the darkness I could just make out the
faint 'skritch, skritch, skritch' that gently reverberated around the vaulted ceiling and
stone floor........there was someone there!
My vice like grip tightened around the roughly shaved wooden stake which rested in
the pocket of my greatcoat. With my other hand I fumbled with infantile coordination 
for the crucifix that I knew was hanging around my neck on a piece of frayed twine.
My presence was noticed as the noise stopped abruptly and was followed by
a deafening silence. I could now just make out a figure crouching by the largest
of the stone memorials at the end of the chamber and without hesitation it 
started to slowly move. The figure grew as it stood, it grew to well over six feet
in height as it straightened out until eventually it was clearly visible in the dim light.
I grasped at the crucifix and held it high as I shouted "Nosferatu...I see you!"
Again silence. The dark eyes of the figure were now looking directly at me and I
shouted again "Nosferatu....I...I see you!" The deafening silence was only matched 
by the pounding heart in my chest. I could now hear the crunching of gravel
beneath the figure's feet as it slowly made its way towards me.
"Nosfer...Nosferatuthingy....oh he's up at Castle Drogo doing their septic tank,
I'm Dave and you have air in your radiators love.

An interesting series of events occurs at SX731774 The location is Bonehill Rocks, a
 large scattering of granite boulders laid out over a hillside sat majestically high above 
Widecombe in the Moor. It is here on most evenings, around the time that the golden
orb of life drops off the end of our fertile globe sending an explosion of billions of
shards of purple, red and orange light high into the darkening azure sky above.....they
congregate! When I say they, of course I mean the army of photographers who gather
around the rocks and point their tripod mounted lenses westward to capture THE shot 
of the century. There must be a collective name for photographers, I don't know it
so I shall introduce the collective noun, a 'smugness' of photographers. The last 
time that I pointed my camera in the direction of the rapidly failing sun, I was met with
a fairly frosty look filled with distain from the man with the biggest lens I have ever
seen. I could hear him discussing ISO settings and exposure compensation.....oo...
compensation, big lens...yes I see now. Needless to say I started clicking away and
captured some superb images. Big lens man was having issues as he clearly wasn't
clicking anything. The lens came off and I could hear his disapproval to the fact that 
a huge amount of dust had become attached to his sensor.

Amelia's top tip no. IV When removing a DSLR lens from the body, make sure that
the camera is turned off as there is an electromagnetic charge that builds up inside
and will attract dust directly into the recess and ultimately directly onto the sensor.

Big lens man I am assuming didn't and as a result, it did. 

I have recently been watching a large amount of vampyre films for no apparent 
reason other than they happen to just be on. I must point one thing out though, not
the Twilight saga. My perfect reworking of the film would involve Buffy...well 
you know what direction that would travel in. One late night Hammer Horror
also fell wildly short of its ability to entertain as I believe it must have been made very
late on a Friday afternoon when all of film crew were itching to go home. I sat 
through the entire film without one chuckle of being entertained, I want
Christopher Lee back. And as I am on the subject, Mr. Burton's latest 
celluloid extravaganza featuring one Mr. Depp that also had some location
shoots right on my doorstep, looks like it most definitely will entertain.

Amelia's top tip no. V When suspecting that a neighbour is actually Nosferatu,
a walker of the night, under no circumstances must you attempt to drive a wooden
stake through their hearts as it usually gets frowned upon by the local
authorities. Which brings me neatly into
Amelia's top tip no. VI I am not a vampyre so please stop throwing garlic at me,
I like garlic very much but not when it is launched in my general direction from 
across the road when I am looking in the baker's window.

Since my last post which involved Moomin's wanton destruction of a starched linen
tablecloth through the medium of jam, we have since returned to the scene of the crime 
where the ladies of the cake emporium were none the wiser. We entered recently and
purchased what can best be described as a wholly obscene and voluminous 
pile of cake based objects that was accompanied by surely one of the largest teapots
in the south west that I have ever seen. We were also encouraged to take extra cake
home with us as they had clearly overdone the baking. This particular cream tea venue
has the strangest bathroom facilities that I had ever come across. It involved entering 
through a huge studded door which led through a small panelled room. 
As I perched above the blackened void which presented itself before me......