Fainting in Coyles An occasional letter from the
Heart of Euroville
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Lunch in Soho
After sitting around, nervously twitching in Bar Italia, consuming too much coffee, finally plucked up the courage to saunter into the world of chaos that is the offices of Private Eye. Greeted by Hilary, who seems to be the only stable thing in the office we plonked on a chair and skimmed the latest edition.
Hislop bounced though the door and off to lunch. Short rounded and with soft but deep lines set in concentric circles round his face he is a walking caricature of somebody who laughs for a living. Results of meeting, ahh… that would be telling.