Young Jah Cousteau is well and truly back in the country after his 13-odd week sojourn in the Seychelles and Mauritius (he refers to this as "work"). This is the young fellow in question on the day he got back into Plymouth only to immediately depart again for the dire seaside pit that is Newquay.
Since gorging himself on a railway station catering cinnamon Danish pastry at vast and step-father-sponsored expense, Monsieur Cousteau has re-implanted himself in his bedroom of yore and slightly muffled yet all-too-loud music can be heard permeating Millbrooker Towers throughout the afternoons. Soon, with luck and following wind, he'll have some gainful employment again.
Meanwhile, using a very handy conjuring trick in which having absolutely no money at all turns into buying a new set of wheels, a mildly clapped out van-shaped jalopy has now joined the assorted vehicles of Millbrook. And here it is being inspected by its new owner (who seems to have difficulty being photographed whilst not shovelling something down his gullet).
Also in attendance at the grand unveiling of the little pink love-wagon (oh, yes, it has a fold out bed in the back) was Jah's mate,young Hamish. Hamish seems to have about as much to do during the long autumn days as our diddy-dreadlocked resident - but has the additional misfortune of being unable to find shorts that fit him properly, so his undercrackers are on semi-permanent display. Poor fellow.