This week I snuck in to a big country house for the Christmas party. (George Osborne's constituency.)
(NB: I'd been invited, but hadn't rsvpd for the meal or aquired my ticket - door staff were very happy with that - even suggested I might be able to ask the staff for some extra food to be brought out.)
To do so I had to first sneak in through two miles of park. What were those shapes darting about in the darkness? What was that swift, brief, eerie clip-clop on the road?
To get into the park, I had to enter in over a fence (as pedestrian access had closed much earlier at the gate I was trying to use). To climb the fence, I had to be careful as I was all heavily kilted for a big black tie 1920s dinner event.
To even find a good spot in the fence, I had to start edging my way around, including into the golf course.
Also the fence was a deer fence. Keeping them in.
Oh, deer. Herds of them.
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Made for a very fine night. I lost my albanian hat though. Knew it was a risk. Not everything comes home from an adventure.

