There s something rather quaint about the sound of church bells ringing out across the countryside. It gives you a sort of nostalgic feeling, that your are living in an Agatha Christie film set.
That warm feeling of nostalgia begins to wear thin, however, when one's hotel room is right next to the priory church, and they are having their weekly campanologists hoe-down. After 30 minutes exposure, GF was contemplating violence. By 45 minutes, he had given in and torn up a sheet of paper and thrown it viciously into the bin. (That'll teach them).
GF had ringing in his ears most of the night after a hour's exposure... now what can he construct with an endless supply of gas and a ringing sound? Gas driven mobile phone?

[File under: Diary]