About These Adventures

I do not write of famine or innovation.I write of steamer trunks and chilled martinis—of veiled women glimpsed through mosquito netting and men who over-pack shaving brushes. I do not solve murders or reform the world. I observe it politely, like a visitor at a dimly lit ruin, and leave before luncheon is served.

These pages collect the ongoing accounts of my travels—sometimes mistaken for adventures—recorded in a style long considered extinct, like the white rhino, or the elegant use of the subjunctive.

You will find within:

• The occasional brush with crinkled time

• Well-mannered steamship mishaps

• Romantic misadventures on sun-bleached verandahs

• And the spirited correspondence of gentlemen who are neither reckless nor particularly competent, but always appropriately dressed

If these amusements strike a familiar tone, it may be because you too once kept a notebook in your sock drawer marked Elsewhere.

The stories are light-hearted by design. I leave arguments to the commentariat, revolutions to the revolutionaries, and discourse to the discursive.

I am, by quiet consensus, a work of fiction. But the trunks are real.

—Duffy Whitmore

Have Your Man Bring It In with the Tea

New dispatches are released at a pace best described as civilised. Subscribing is free, and ensures delivery by electronic post—even to the remotest verandah. Duffy Whitmore Adventures.