The Author leaves Lagado, arrives at Maldonada. No outgoing flights from local International Airport. He takes a day-tripper to Glubbdubdrib. His reception by the Governor.
The continent of which this kingdom is a part extends itself, as I think anyway, eastward to the United States, westward of California, and north of the Pacific Ocean, which is not above a hundred and fifty miles from Lagado, where there is a good airport, and much tourism both to and from the large island of Luggnagg, situated to the north-west about twenty-nine degrees north latitude and one hundred and forty degrees longitude. This island of Luggnagg stands southeastwards of Japan, about one hundred leagues away. There is a strict alliance between the two parliaments of Japan and Luggnagg, which allows for cheap cruises between the two. I resolved therefore to direct my course this way, in order to further my homecoming to Europe. I rented a car, with a tour guide to show me the way, and of course, take pictures of me with local landmarks. I left my hotel room, whose maids never forgot to leave a mint on my pillow, and tipped them generously at my departure.
The short flight was without any turbulence or cute stewardess worth mentioning. When I landed at the airport of Maldonada (for so it is called) there was no outbound flights determined for Luggnagg, nor likely to be in some time. The town is about as large as Silicon Valley. I soon hooked up with some people at a bar, and was very warmly entertained. A celebrity (who shall remain nameless) said to me since the planes flying to Luggnagg were down for evaluations and repairs for at least a month, it might be fun for me to take a cruise to the island of Glubbdubdrib, about five leagues off to the southwest. He offered himself and a friend to accompany me, and that I should be provided with a large spacious cabin on the main deck for the trip.
Glubbdubdrib is said to mean "Island of the Sorcerers or Magicians". Of course, since this IS the twentieth century, you and I both know that sorcerers don’t exist, but these quaint islands don’t have the scientific access we do, their customs must be honored. Glubbdubdrib is about one-third the size of the island of Manhattan, and extremely fertile: it is governed in appearances only by the head of a certain tribe, who all claim to be "magicians". This tribe marries only among each other (they ALL have hemophilia), and the eldest in succession is Prince or Governor. He has a massive prairie castle, and a pasture of about three thousand acres, surrounded by a hewn stone wall, twenty feet high. This pasture has enclosures for horses, and cows as well as several silos for grain storage.
The Governor and his family are waited upon by servants of an odd fashion. With his family money, he has managed to buy some robots that appear to various people from the past. He claims to be calling them up from the dead, with his great powers of necromancy. I have yet to see this great power in action. The rules of his "necromancy" dictate that he may bring anyone from the land of the dead for only twenty-four hours, but no longer: nor can he call the same person again for at least three months.
When we arrived at the island, around brunch time, one of the men who arranged for my travel had lunch with governor, and arranged for me to tour his castle, as well as eat dinner with the royal tribe.
He advocated this tour, as long as I made a refundable security deposit. I at once offered up my gold card, and was given much assurance that no charges would be made without my knowledge. These "ghosts" (robots or at least androids) had the facial expressions of a hyena; cold, and soulless, their grins made my flesh creep. I was given the "VIP" tour, in other words, dragged through countless rooms of dusty heirloom furniture, all of which were guarded by the odd servants. After bowing an excessive number of times, we were allowed to sit on minuscule perches located at the base of the governor’s throne. Incidentally, our seats were made of worm-ridden oak, while his throne was gilded rosewood. The governor had an elucidator, who understood both Balnibarbi and his native language well enough to translate, although I am sure he embellished. The governor insisted I tell him my life story, and in order to make me feel more comfortable, he banished all the courtiers, and with a wave of his hand he "banished" his servants from the room. I’m sure it was a built-in command of some sort. After seeing the technological capabilities his island possessed, I became agitated, until he assured me that I would come to no harm. My fellow travelers guaranteed me that they had been entertained in the same way many times, and if I was of the lineage I claimed, I should be used to it too. One of his servants appeared, bringing me a Valium and a martini, and I began to tell my life story. Several drinks later, the mass of family and servants appeared, and we ate dinner. After dinner, the governor offered me a chance to stay in his palace, assuming I paid a small consideration. I begged off, claiming a dust allergy, when in truth, I really just didn’t want to stay someplace that disgustingly dirty. One of my hosts owned a chalet close to town, and suggested we use it, if only to check on the domestic help’s work. In the morning, we arrived back at the castle for lattes and scones, and the governor bided us to ask him for a favor, he really wanted to show off his "necromancy".
We lounged around the island for ten days, spending most of our time with the governor and his ghosts. Wouldn’t you know it, his necromancy was real. I understand that it doesn’t sound true, but incredibly it is! Eventually, I became accustomed to the listless faces of the ghosts, and now I barely notice them. The governor volunteered to call up whomever it pleased me to speak with. I was assured of their speaking the truth to me, for lying may be a useful talent in the living world, it is useless among the dead.
I thanked the governor for such a generous favor. As a matter of fact, I thanked him so many times that he threatened to take back the favor. I asked for a chance to jam with John Lennon. With a wrinkle of the governor’s nose, John Lennon appeared in the middle of the stateroom. We sat and talked for a while. He assured me that "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" was truly about LSD, not about some picture his kids drew. He also gave me some ideas about music that would be totally rocking.
Next I saw Mickey from the Kix commercials, and he told me that he never drank Pop Rocks and Coke, and that he was alive and well, working as a marketing director in Beverly Hills.
I saw Rommel and Montgomery at the head of their battalions, ready to engage each other in crossfire. Rommel totally kicked Montgomery’s butt, leaving the Briton to crawl home on his hands and knees. I desired to see the ministers of Britain and the ministers of the 3rd Reich together, in the same room. Truthfully, the only difference was the color of their clothing.