221B Baker Street - Snowstorm Ambiance, Historical Soundscape

Hullo there, old friend! By George, it certainly is wonderful to see you again! Please, do come in out of this terrible snowstorm we're having. That's right, take off your coat and your boots and put them by the fire to dry off. Wouldn't dream of sending you back out in this! Holmes and I are having a quiet night at our rooms on Baker Street, and you're welcome to join us. In fact, I insist on it!

You might hear the sounds of a passing horse and carriage every once in a while, but not many people want to venture out in this weather, I dare say! Why, the winds are positively howling out there! Mrs. Hudson will soon be in with tea and supper, and I do hope that you'll join us for a small repast.

Oh, and please don't mind Holmes and I. You may hear me scribbling in my notebook - I'm trying to finish recording another adventure for the public to eagerly read in the next edition of The Strand magazine. And with Holmes in a meloncholy mood as he normally is during such weather when not even the criminal element of London ventures forth, you might hear him scraping on his violin or scanning the newspaper for any interesting tidbits in the crime blotter. For a man who claims to desire silence as much as he, he certainly does tend to make a fair bit of noise when shut up at home like this.

We'll try to be as quiet as possible - I know how tired you must be - but the floorboards creak a little, I'm afraid, and there might be a lonely train whistle once in a while, but pay them no heed. Here, I shall light my pipe and yours, as well. Just enjoy your time here in Baker Street, get warmed up, have a nice cup of tea, and we'll all keep each other company on this cozy, wind-swept night.

By the by, this ambiance is best enjoyed with headphones.

TO LOOP: Right click anywhere on the video - that's right, you've got it - and select "Loop" from the menu. Now you can enjoy us for as long as you like.

In this ambiance, you'll hear:
- A grandfather clock that Mrs. Hudson swears is from the late 17th century, and crafted by an ancestor of hers. Holmes is suspicious of this, but perhaps in the interests of staying in the lady's good graces, never comments on the matter.
- The howling winds of this ferocious snowstorm. Now really, what on earth where you doing out there tonight?
- The inviting crackle of our trusty fire, well stoked.
- Me, scribbling away on my notepad, transposing a few case notes into something that is hopefully worth reading.
- Mrs. Hudson bringing our supper to our rooms from the kitchen downstairs. We enjoy a quick bite.
- The abondimable creaky chairs around our dining table.
- A few hansoms, braving the weather outside.
- Holmes' infernal scraping on his violin. Luckily for you and I, he loses interest fairly quickly.
- On a night such as this, a man enjoys lighting and smoking his pipe, which we do several times. Happy to share, if you like.
- Holmes perusing a book, no doubt a compliation of criminal cases. His light reading material is normally some compendium of human suffering, it seems.
- I'm happy to pour you a cup of tea, friend. And I'll join you.
- If you don't mind, I'll read the newspaper as well. Such a lot going on in London these days, don't you find?