Tomorrow evening I'm giving an illustrated talk on island life to the arrestingly-named Belfast Natural History and Philosophical Society, which fills me with awe because I imagine rows of stern gentlemen in frock coats, looking down on me over half-moon spectacles, taking notes with quill pens and testing me to breaking point during the Q&A afterwards.
All are welcome, so I mentioned the event to Geoff Hill, author and adventurer (in this context, he sounds like something out of Jules Verne: 'I say, Hill, I'll wager you ten guineas you can't leave this room, walk backwards to the North Pole and be back here by 9pm sharp the day after tomorrow.' 'I'll take that wager, you old scoundrel!') Anyway, Geoff emailed me to say, 'Sounds like a splendidly Victorian evening. If I can put my smoking jacket out in time, I'll get a hackney carriage over through a peasouper lit dimly by gaslight.'
It won't be like that at all, more's the pity, but how wonderful that the society is still thriving after 190 years. It's stated aims are to promote knowledge in the arts, history and sciences, and the lecture programme is hosted in the Linen Hall Library.
Tomorrow's event is at 6.30pm - as I say, all welcome.
