FEC presently FWC

CRIKEY!
His popularity has spread so far east that he has ended up west of us, but remains as lauded as ever.
What a good chap.

As suspected, the FEC has begun something of a cult in his Homeland. Last Saturday, they were showing the newly released ( east of Colne ) 'Close Encounters of the Third Type' when there was an unfortunate incident with the celluloid and a pair of snub-nosed scissors - you know, the ones you were allowed to use as a child. Anyway, the net result was a general disappointment among the gathered cinemagoers, who then searched for something else to do. As is often the way in these parts, they resorted to the usual adulation and praise of their favourite character of the moment, your very own Far East Corresepondent. Isn't that nice?
The assembled staff at Oboto Towers like to think that FEC will arrive at the Curryttee Meating, bourne aloft on a bed of nubile young things.
We are taking our cameras just in case.
To prove the point, I have found just how difficult it has become for our FEC to make his way around in an unobtrusive manner. Regardless of disguise, they keep finding him. Take a look at how many different disguises he has failed to fool the locals with at
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6j0myFovHA

The Far East Correspondent

The FEC has been away for the weekend. Not wishing to be outshone by Master RouteFinder, he took it upon himself to make an early start after the Curryttee Meating, and after dressing in the latest kit from the BMW catalogue, headed out. The unfortunate effects of the previous night's meal were, as it happened, about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit,which was rather apt. The original idea had to been to test the waterproofing of the new kit, but it was only when he got there, that Phil realised rain hadn't been forecast for billions of years on that particular beach.

'Seen the new clothing catalogue?', said Master RouteFinder to the Far East Correspondent.
'Aye, 'tis a wonderous thing, with many baubles and trinkets with vast price tickets attached'.

The Public Relations Secretary, Paul, makes his way in hot pursuit of our Far East Correspondent Phil and Master RouteFinder Mick to the Bellachroy Inn. This fine establishment is heartily recommended by The Oboto as a centre of fine food, Deuchars and malts. A magnificent bar that causes beer to teleport onto the table, and a clientele that one needs to meet to understand, makes for a very interesting stop.
Without doubt, the loudest swearingest pub in living memory. I love it.