So I find myself confined to the house. This wretched fog has grounded all airships and there is no way for me to get out of London.
Not that it is advisable to go outside at the moment. The atmosphere outside is more like a soup than breathable air.
I am incredibly grateful that neither myself nor Papa suffer from any sort of respiratory distress. For the moment all we can do is wait and hope it clears soon. The majority of shops are closed and all manner of recreational events have had to be cancelled. I fear I shall go quite mad from boredom and isolation.
I was supposed to be meeting a contact in Belgium next week but I can’t imagine I shall make it now. I hear that the Belgians have a special touch when it comes to the production of eating chocolate and thought I might be able to secure a shipment in time for Christmas if I could bring it in by airship. So much for that plan.
Still we have managed to get hold of many of our usual luxuries, tea from Russia, silk from China, spices from India, Coffee and Turkish delight from Turkey, Oranges from Spain. I just hope that there are people still left in London to buy our goods.
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I’ll be up to see you as soon as I have time, possibly sooner, if the fog persists we may all have to leave the city.
All my love