Now look here. It's all very well all of you saying the book's terrific and the drawings are out of this world, but that's not much use to me if a) you'd don't blinking well purchase the thing (at an unbelievably reasonable price) or b) do something when you hear I am in trouble.

And I am in trouble. No question about it.

Let me explain. You'll recall I said that I was about to beetle off to Venice once more at the behest of the Italian rozzers who wanted me to clear up one or two details about my adventures in that part of the world a few months back. Well, I'm a law-abiding so-and-so when not forced to bend the rules (it's a cut-throat business, this culinary lark, as I believe I've told you) – so it was off to Heathrow to do my humble bit for the good of society, defend law and order, etc etc. And take advantage of an expenses-paid bit of relaxation in what is surely the finest city on god's earth. If that's not a cue for another of my marvellous sketches I don't know what is...

Bearing in mind what happened last time I flew out of the UK I steered clear of the bars at the airport and settled for a coffee and Danish standing up (I ask you!) at a wobby steel table. It tasted of nothing but sugar and I shall probably be paying for it for the rest of my days.

But enough. Suffice to say I didn't get tiddly enough to end up by mistake in Rio de Janeiro and was soon trundling my self-willed little bag through the narrow alleys and canalsides of La Serenissima once more, savouring the sights and sounds of a city that is like no other. Claims that Birmingham is 'the Venice of the north' are enough to make you weep when you see the original. Even Amsterdam struggles to bear comparison.

I'll spare you any purple prose about the place – you'll have to fork out for the book if you want to relish the full magnificence of my writing style (even after that grammar-merchant David Pickering has gnawed at it, damn his alcohol-soaked hide). Similarly I'll skip over the business of my booking into my favourite haunt overlooking the Grand Canal and patiently receiving the adoring welcome of the staff there, who are always pleased to see me, of course, despite the fact that I only dish out tips when I think they've done something to deserve it, which isn't all that often to tell the truth.

I'm in my room at the hotel even now, but I must break off for a mo' as there's someone at the door. Here's a photograph to keep you happy while I'm seeing to business:

TTx