Itching

Lately, London is a dreary place. Since my return from exploring the lowlands last July, in which I observed at close quarters the chin-people (noble beasts), I have been busy, true. But tea, brandy, my club (The Porcupine) and whores (m/f) will suffice but for a limited period until my feet (and elsewhere) are itching.

What am I to do?

Is there another campaign into which I can dig my unspeakable molars?