Paul Rowley

In the world of venom, Paul Rowley is a stellar name. If you don’t know him personally, you should without a doubt know his name and the work he does with venomous snakes. Paul is the U.K.’s premier venom extractor, working at Alistair Reid Venom Research Unit at the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine in Liverpool, England. LSTM is known the world over for its’ research and contributions in the production of antivenom.
A normal day at the office for Paul is the stuff of nightmares for some and the matter of dreams for others. Paul is a (normally) quiet, shy-at-first, unassuming type of guy. If you met Paul on the street you would never guess what he does for a living. And for a LIVING, I absolutely mean! Paul’s contributions to the planet are enormous. It’s estimated that he helps save several THOUSAND lives annually all over the globe, especially in notable places such as West Africa. ANNUALLY! The project has been in operation from around 2006 and has, so far, saved around 14,000 lives. And it’s not just human lives that Paul is concerned with. He genuinely cares for his charges at LSTM and they could be in no better hands. I sometimes think Paul takes better care of these venom pumps than he does of himself. Paul gives tours of his venom unit at LSTM to visitors, children, VIP’s and even Royalty! He is no stranger to the camera and his latest venture on film was to help Rom Whitaker in the making of: “One Million Snake Bites” for BBC in July of 2010. Paul is an integral part of “The Family,” and seems continually amazed at his own status!
Paul is the type of guy, who once you get to know, can make you laugh regularly. Sometimes he means to and other times he does something out of left field that you can’t help but snort at! I had the pleasure of taking Paul to Deadwood, South Dakota in October of 2010. During this trip I’m pretty sure I snorted at least a hundred times!
Come with me, back to Deadwood, and meet Paul Rowley.
It’s a beautiful, warm October evening in South Dakota, unusual for this time of year. The sun is setting over the mountains as we drive into the valley that is Deadwood. The smell of pine is heavy in the air. As I drive, I can see Paul looking in every direction soaking up each new sight. I am confident in my ability to find the parking garage downtown (if you know me, you will find the irony in this statement…). As I slowly navigate up the cobbled street, I flick my blinker to indicate we are turning right. I have no problem pulling into a space right in front and I park expertly. Unfolding ourselves from the car and stretching, I tell Paul that I am starving for steak! I look like any other “tourist” in jeans and a T-shirt, but Paul looks like is ready for a safari wearing his khaki long sleeve shirt tucked into his khaki field pants (and his ever present watch!). Walking with a quick pace from the garage out to the street, Paul blinks as he looks at the historic buildings on either side, their lights now coming on illuminating them against the falling darkness. “I just love the old west. I sometimes think I was born on the wrong continent.” He says.
We walk up the small side avenue to enter onto Main Street. We take no time to explore this side of the street and cross over to make the short walk to a fabulous steak house. My stomach growls loudly as we enter and the myriad smells of steak, potatoes and other foods waft around us. Paul glances at me and I laugh as I tell him: “I SAID I was hungry!!!!” Paul nods in agreement and catches the eye of the host. The host greets us and asks us to follow him to a table. I notice Paul’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and wonder what caught his attention. We take in the atmosphere… wooden tables, padded booths, wagon wheel chandeliers and artfully scattered sawdust as we make the way to our table. Taking our seats, the host hands us our menu’s and tells us the waiter will be right over. Again, Paul looks surprised but I am too focused on the menu and getting food to ask questions. Perusing the menu and the fabulous sustenance offered therein, I glance up just as the young waiter arrives. Setting our glasses of water on the table, he flashes a high beam smile and introduces himself in a sing-song way. I am still looking at him when I hear Paul cough/laugh. I look at Paul to be sure I interpreted the sound accurately. Paul’s face is bright red and it’s obvious he is having some issues. I ask if he is ok in genuine concern. “Fine, fine. No worries!” he manages to blurt between coughs meant to disguise his laughter. The waiter tells us he will give us a few minutes to decide and that his name is “Derrick.” He asks if we would like anything else to drink. Paul decides on a local beer brew and I order a Diet Coke. Derrick notices Pauls’ accent and inquires about it. I am beginning to wonder if Paul is having some sort of stroke when I notice perspiration beading on his now burgundy forehead and note with interest that he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with Derrick… who, having just found out where Paul is from is now regaling us with how much he would LOVE to visit England. Paul’s mouth is executing a fascinating array of positions and it is obvious he is struggling. As the waiter leaves I, again, immediately ask Paul if he is ok. Unable to hold it in any longer, Paul laughs outright. “Did you hear his accent?!” Paul says. “Umm. Yeah. Texas, I think.” I answer. Paul is SO full of absolute mirth that it is contagious and I begin laughing, too. For no reason, this seems to inspire both of us into a fit of laughter, causing all the patrons in the immediate area to glance at us. This causes more laughter on our part and we can’t seem to stop! The waiter brings Paul’s microbrew and my coke over to the table and takes our orders. Paul quickly puts the beer to his mouth, in an effort to cover his laughter. I snort my order at Derrick; steak and a baked potato. Paul, trying gallantly to maintain his dry, English countenance, orders too… a buffalo burger. Derrick flicks a look of suspicion at both of us and suddenly we are again taken with a fit of laughter. Wiping the tears from my eyes as Derrick walks away to put our orders in with the chef, I decide to try to maintain some dignity and ask Paul about himself and his career.
Knowing what Paul does for a living, I can’t help but wonder if he has ALWAYS loved reptiles. I ask him about this. Paul glances at Derrick who is at the next table, and then shrugs his shoulders. Quietly, he answers:
“Reptiles are in my blood… as an infant I was drawn to reptiles, particularly snakes. My first ever memory was seeing some old snake sloughs that my Grandfather kept in a glass “trophy” cup (styled like the sort of sliver 2 handled cup that people are presented with, but made of glass) these where from the Dice snakes (Natrix tessellate) and Grass snakes (Natrix natrix) that my Father kept as a boy. I became fascinated with the fact that snakes could shed their skin in one go. Then when I got to see some live snakes, came the realization of just how much they can achieve without limbs and of course in the case of venomous snakes, their absolute killing power. I was hooked! My interest didn’t go unnoticed by my family and with my Grandmother already working at Chester Zoo it wasn’t long before I was a regular visitor to the wonderful reptile house. At the time, virtually every other cage had something venomous and exciting for me to look at. I pretty much decided there & then that I wanted to work with venomous snakes one day. 40 + years on and that is exactly what I do for a living.”
I nod at Paul, impressed that he has done precisely in life what he set out to do. I slowly stir the ice in my Diet Coke with my straw and tell Paul that my first reptile, when I was 4, was an icon of the American West… a Horny Toad. Then I inquire as to Paul’s first reptile.
“My first snake was a Red-Sided Garter in 1969. I think these where fairly common at the time but this one was given to me by the Curator of reptiles at Chester Zoo, so was kind of special. A few more snakes came my way via the zoo staff… sand boas and a reticulated python to name a few. I also kept slow-worms, wall lizards and terrapins etc.
A funny story though: My parents had a Greek tortoise back in the 1960’s before I was born, given to my Father while in the army by the Brigadier. We also had Pixie our Cairn terrier and she had some “toys” that were actually large beach-stones, pebble shaped but much larger & heavier. Pixie loved nudging these stones around the garden and she would bark for attention if one of her toys fell down a grid or some other such place where she couldn’t push it back out from. Sometimes though, the poor tortoise would receive the same treatment as those rocks and she’d be pushing the poor thing around the garden and we would have to go and rescue it!”
We both laugh at that memory and I become more curious about Paul’s experiences. Noting that he had some exclusive interactions and learning experiences at an early age, I ask Paul if he studied reptiles in school as well.
“I’m sure we covered reptiles in general terms along with natural history. I was the kid who always had their hand up in such classes. It didn’t matter if the topic was mammals, birds, reptiles, fish or inverts, young Rowley always had something to say. Other school children referred to our family home as the “Zoo” due to all the wonderful exotic creatures we had.”
With such a unique background with many animals to choose from, I want to know how Paul chose reptiles as his main focus.
“Yes, I seem to have a natural affinity to a wide range of different animals and I’ve certainly handled / worked with some interesting creatures over the years. I made a list once, it was long!
Reptiles and in particular venomous snakes have always been my main interest, along with crocodilians. Although I had been keeping reptiles privately for 10 years, it was when I took a job at Chester Zoo that I started on my career “path” to becoming a Herpetologist. I actually left school a month early and took days off in order to go and sit my exams. I didn’t go into further education and I certainly don’t consider myself gifted academically, but I do have an inquisitive mind and I learnt some good practical skills. I progressed to the point of being a Senior Reptile Keeper. After spending 14 years at Chester Zoo I was made redundant in 1992 due to a serious drop in visitor numbers. The reptile section went from having a Staff of 4 down to 2 leaving just the Curator of Reptiles and one female senior keeper who also happened to be his partner and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to let his girlfriend lose her job. A few months later the Curator phoned me up to say that there was a vacancy at LSTM in Liverpool. That was 1993 and I’m still here (for now). My “specialization” I guess is the husbandry of a major venomous snake collection held for the purpose of venom research. I hold the distinction within the UK of being the only person routinely extracting venom for research. I am considered to be a skilled snake handler, given the tens of thousands of hours spent doing this work I guess I ought to be eh?
One thing that became obvious last year while at a meeting in London Zoo was just how much freedom I happen to have when it comes to handling snakes. Obviously due to the fact that I am doing venom extractions I need to physically handle the snakes. This is so different to the situation in zoos and safari parks across the UK where zero handling is the norm. The audience were certainly impressed with my presentation detailing various “holds” and procedures, techniques that the Health & Safety do-gooders would see lost to all but myself and private venomous keepers.”

Paul has taught me a lot of handling techniques both outright and vicariously by me watching and listening. Paul trains many specialists in handling techniques and in venom extraction. Some of handling is a natural affinity but we all learn so much more when we can learn from experts. Paul describes one of his mentors:
“I was initially taught to handle venomous snakes by the two keepers (names are withheld due to privacy) who ran the Chester Zoo reptile section at the time. They were about as different as you could get in their approach to handling. One was a perfectionist who would try to plan every move in advance. She had taken 2 bad bites in her time (pygmy rattler and a rhino viper that cost her a finger tip) so was extremely cautious (if not over-cautious). The other, by contrast, was very relaxed and comfortable to the point of being caviler. My style developed as from a mix of the two.
With the move to LSTM came another mentor with a very different style. The Professor wasn’t a “snake-man” per se, so had developed techniques that were influenced by the “safety” of Staff within the Herpetarium rather than the snakes themselves. If a snake was on the floor he would be saying “grab it, grab it” and I’d say “It can’t go anywhere, there’s no rush!” and gently maneuver the snake around. I set about revising methods so as to use a more gentle, kinder way of “handling.” We had also been using a technique favored in Latin America to knock-out snakes such as Crotalus durissus prior to venom extraction involving Dry Ice. A trip to a local brewery where we were invited to “smell the hops fermenting” convinced me that carbon dioxide inhalation is not pleasant, so I set about designing my famous “neck-brace tool” which has proven to be a great success and is routinely used on large Bitis, Crotalids, Vipers.
Although I am pretty well established as a snake handler, I am always open to new ideas and techniques I have worked alongside Mark O’Shea, Tony Phelps and Wolfgang Wuster to name just a few people. They differ in their methods, but this provides for variations in techniques.
Probably one of the most notable stories in connection to my career involves the late John Foden. He was an "old school" snake man who was one of the founding members of the International Herpetological Society as well as Curator of Reptiles at Drayton Manor Park. He was a father figure to many of us younger guys & girls. I first met him when he would visit us at Chester Zoo. He was a larger than life character who always entertained us with his stories and jokes. When I moved to LSTM I had the honor of showing him our collection on several occasions. You could see the excitement in his face as I'd get various snakes out for him to play with. I would visit him at Drayton Manor and here is where the story unfolds. I had been helping him clean out various cages at his house and we had worked through quite a number of snakes until we came to one young Australian Elapid (a King Brown IIRC). John was really struggling with this snake and I was acting as ”back-up handler.” I don't know what came over me but I said "oh, come here" as with one quick swipe of my hook I had the snake back in its box and the lid securely fastened. Proud of myself on my reflexes and hooking skills I looked at John and it hit me like a sledgehammer! I suddenly felt so bad! I had just upstaged the grandmaster, shown-up one of the most respected snake-men I knew. I apologized to John and a broad smile spread across his face. He said: "Paul, don't apologize, don't feel embarrassed. You’re a dammed good snake handler, you’re handling them every day and it really shows. No need to say sorry!" That was a special moment. One I will never forget.

Later when John was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he asked if I would take his snakes when the “time” came. I felt honored that he saw in me someone who cared about snakes as much as he did. On the day following his death I was there at the Park honoring his last wishes. Even that day, he must have been laughing from above as Mark O’Shea and I were sorting through various cages and trap-boxes. Thing was with John’s private collection, none of the cages when labeled. It was a case of “What do you think is in here? Dunno, let’s open it!” Then “jeeeze” as we were confronted by a fairly large King Cobra. We ended up taking 3 Kings that day along with plenty of other interesting snakes. 11 years on and there are a number of those snakes still here in the collection.”

I smile at the affection I hear in Paul’s voice. As with most of us, snake handling and the people in the hobby and profession are not just a way we spend time “at work.” It is a way of life. We eat, breathe and sleep the field of Herpetology. I like the laughter I see in Paul’s eyes when he describes his little “adventure” with Mark O’Shea and it perks my curiosity. I ask Paul about the funniest thing that’s ever happened revolving around his career.
“Hmm, there was the time I was cleaning out the croc pool. It had been a busy weekend and there was all sorts of rubbish that the public had thrown into the pool. I told the curator I was heading off to clean the “empty croc” pool. Because it was empty I didn’t bother taking a broom just a black bin (trash) sac and a pair of litter pickers. Working away quite happily. All of a sudden this croc came flying out of the water at me. Trapped in a corner, shaking a black bin sac at the croc while trying to climb backwards over the wall! I went back into the reptile house and demanded to know why there was a croc in a supposedly “empty” pool. “Oh, they were fighting so we had to separate them, forgot to tell you, sorry!” It’s funny now but not at the time!”
Suddenly, Paul sits straight up with a laugh. He laughs outright as he tells another anecdote:
“Another time that was funny was hearing a terrible scream from the far end of the Reptile house.. I ran down the corridor thinking that the female curator had been bitten by something venomous. I found her at the back of the Rhino Iguana enclosure quite obviously upset. The cause? A banana spider! Not much bigger than our common house spiders! In time we learned to recognize when she had “found” another spider!”
Paul shakes his head in mirth as I laugh. Glancing over Paul’s shoulder, I see the horrified look on the tourists faces in the next booth. I guess some people just don’t appreciate a good spider story. Shaking my head, I glance at several other booths and notice that people are staring in rapt attention. Our conversation has not gone un-noticed. As I am sneaking covert glances at the other tables, Derrick reappears with our supper. The plates are piled high in a breath taking presentation and the warm, intense smell causes my stomach to rumble loudly, again. Paul glances at me and quirks one eyebrow. I smile and delicately shrug my shoulders as I dive in! I am midway to my mouth with my first much coveted bite when my eyes land on Paul’s plate. I freeze. I blink. I blink again. Paul is attacking his Buffalo burger in a MOST British manner; with knife and fork. As this sight soaks in, I begin snorting in earnest. Paul looks at me, surprised, and I can only point to the fork and knife he is wielding. “What?” he inquires. I merely snort again as I take my bite of food and chew thinking I have died and gone to heaven. I watch Paul carefully maneuver the bite of Buffalo to his mouth and watch with interest as he tastes the unique flavor. Paul processes the bite, swallows and nods his approval as he cuts another piece. I snort again and roll my eyes at him. Paul leans forward and says: “What? Do you expect me to actually eat this with my hands?!” The comment is made in absolute sincerity and I respond with: “Well, that’s what we American’s do!” Paul shakes his head at me and continues to cut his burger. My attention slides back to the people surrounding us and their interest in our conversation. Thinking to really give them a good story, I ask Paul about the scariest moment he’s ever had with reptiles.
“Bites obviously rank pretty highly on the list . I’ve never thought that I might die. We had a young Sri-Lankan doctor working with us when I happened to take my second Crotalus durissus bite. Ariarne had helped treat snake-bite victims back home and insisted on accompanying me to the hospital, the poor girl was clearly stressed that I might die or something. I ended up having to comfort and reassure her I was going to be OK.
I had a rather scary moment one morning (July 2008). I was at work early and rushing around as I needed to get down to the West Midlands Safari Park later that day to present a talk.. I worked my way through assist feeding 13 young King Cobras. As I got to the last snake, I suddenly felt ill. It took all my reserves of strength to fight blacking out with a King Cobra in my hand. Somehow I managed to get the snake into a box before collapsing, wondering what the hell had just happened. I carefully examined my hands for any sign of puncture wounds in case I might have been scratched by a fang and then took myself over to the hospital. No sign of envenomation. They thought it might have been dehydration, but I’m not so sure! The scary part was NOT knowing why!
Another scary moment was while out in Cameroon doing some voluntary work for the Cameroon Wildlife Aid Fund. My friend Chris ran the project and had invited me out to teach his staff how to handle venomous snakes and crocs at the zoo. I’d find time to wander around on my own looking for herps, but it was a bit too populated with people. Chris suggested that Charles, an ex soldier who we hired as “security,” should take Susan, a pretty Welsh blonde and I out to some remote area so we could search for snakes . After a few hours driving in a battered old Land-Rover that broke down and I helped fix, we arrived at the chosen site. Charles wandered off and spent the time with some army buddies while Susan and I wandered around searching. We found several snakes including a Night Adder. Finally, in late afternoon, we set off back to the house. We related to Chris what we found and where we had been searching. Chris suddenly went rather pale and began yelling at stupid Charles calling him all sorts of colorful names. Seeing the confusion on our faces, he turned to Susan and I and said: “Do you know what that bloody stupid bugger has done? He only sent you pair wandering around an area laden with Land Mines!!!!!”
Another scary moment was seeing a friend put her hand into a cage with a “dead” Gaboon Viper. She reached in with a snake hook and moved the Gaboon first, as you always should. The snake appeared dead to both of us. Neither of us are exactly novices, so we trusted our judgment at that moment. Upon determining the state of the snake (or so we thought) we agreed that the mass should be identified (crudely at this point). We both thought the snake was dead; she was reaching in to palpate a mass on the snake to see if it was an air pocket or solid tissue. She had the entire hind half of this rather large Gaboon in her hands and then he slowly turned his head to look at her. We both jumped a foot and she let go immediately. The snake never tried to strike her but she was very lucky. If you have worked with bitis, you understand how fast their strikes really are. Lesson learnt that day I think….. I would much rather take a bite myself than allow someone I cared about to be hurt (if you are wondering, yes, that was the Venom Angel he is speaking of).
I’m not that scared of dying and I certainly don’t go to work thinking I might end up in hospital or a wooden box! “
The reaction from the surrounding booths is exactly what I had hoped for. There is a range of emotion showing on every single face. Disgust, horror, fascination… but each one staring in rapt attention. I smile my thousand watt smile at people and encourage Paul to keep talking. I ask him what species is his favorite to work with and what is the most difficult.
“Well, I reckon my favorite species is anything with fangs! I really like the variety of working with different species. We have around 26 species at the moment (at LSTM) which is rather low. The most I ever had at one time was 50 species and 350 specimens. I particularly like our eyelash vipers and mambas.”
Paul takes a quick scan around the room and then leans close and says loudly, in a conspiratorial manner,
“I’d also like to try handling a sexy female vampire… they apparently have fangs too… not sure what species they are though!” He then breaks out into laughter and winks at me. I chuckle and encourage him to think about the most difficult species. Paul takes a few moments to think, pursing his lips and letting out a small sigh. As the answer comes to him, he quickly glances up at me and snaps his fingers, saying:
“For sheer bad attitude probably Sri-Lankan Russel’s Vipers, Daboia russelli.
For risk, the Malayan Kraits Bungarus candidus, no antivenom. They are the sort of species I psyche myself up for and take extra care when handling for venom extractions.”
Knowing his contributions in teaching venom extraction, I ask Paul about the people he has worked with and trained.
Some such as John Foden have sadly passed on. Others are now more friends than peers, B.G.F. (Bryan Grieg Fry), David Williams, Mark O’Shea, Rom Whitaker, Tony Phelps, Wolfgang Wuster and the Venom Angel!!! Last but not least are some of my “new” friends via FaceBook.
The venom I have extracted from our snakes has, with the help of our small venom research unit and overseas collaborators, gone on to save thousands of lives across West Africa.
I have, on too many occasions, “taken the call” telling me that someone has been bitten. I have been able to help out and ensure that the person has received the fastest and best possible care. It is really gut retching when it happens but I try my best to stay calm and professional.
Whenever possible I like to help and encourage newer (venomous) keepers or the younger generation of herpers.
I enjoy teaching / mentoring people whenever I can. I also helped to design an accredited snake-handling course for the Home Office (UK government) where I teach students who are going to be working with venomous snakes, generally in relation to University based field work.
I do get to meet a wide range of interesting people through my work, TV celebrities, VIP’s and even Royalty. There have also been opportunities for me to get involved in TV work. Another aspect has been the chance to get involved with field work / research projects in some pretty remote areas, the Sahara and Cameroonian rain forests, India etc.
My least favorite part would be seeing how stupid some novice reptile owners can be, for example snakes that have been burnt by heaters because the rest of the cage is too dammed cold.“

Paul is a vital member of “The Family” and I ask him specifically about that.
“I have always felt a kindred spirit towards any fellow venomous keepers either private or professional and I do care when something happens to anyone of them no matter how well I might know them personally, or not, as the case might be. Over the years I have got to know some of the world’s most influential members of the venomous community and I feel honored to be able to say that some of these people are personal friends.

The concept of the “family” is relatively new to me but I would have to say that getting to know the key member, the one who holds us all together, to become her friend, meet and physically spend time with her are memories that I will always cherish!”

Speaking of family, Paul and I discuss some of the newer members and the herp. community in general. So many changes have taken place over the last two decades in our field.
“Two things really stand out.” Paul says.
“Just how far things have progressed in relation to the amount of help, advice and information that is now freely available via the internet, forums, and magazines. The fact that contact can be made via e-mail, forums, facebook etc. with some of the world’s leading figures within the herp community. That you can be chatting with someone the other side of the world, that is amazing! Maybe some people take this availability for granted and communication (as in snail mail) has lost some of the respect it once had? By far the biggest change is the sheer number of women / girls who are now involved with reptile keeping both privately and professionally. I enthusiastically support this gradual change for the better. I now notice when giving talks, attending shows or meetings that the gender mix is pretty even. I am not one of those blokes who think reptiles, especially venomous are the preserve of men, far from it. I actually prefer working with women. They don’t have the “ego” and are often more gentle and considerate of their animals. Courtney Roles is a good example of a young woman new to the hobby. She works hard and she asks questions from everyone around her that she respects. She doesn’t argue the advice and she puts it into practice. It’s a pleasure sharing knowledge with someone who is respectful and learns.”
Thinking of Courtney, I ask Paul what his advice would be to someone just now starting out in the field.
“It is good to be relaxed and comfortable around venomous snakes but never become complacent! Remember that no matter how long you might have been handling venomous snakes, there are going to be the times when a snake does something different to what you expect...so expect the unexpected!
I honestly can’t think of anything reptile related that I wouldn’t do again…. even being bitten can have it’s positive side in that I now appreciate first-hand what is involved, the pain, shock, stress and treatment. This gives me the opportunity to talk with students and other visitors about the effects of snake-bites. I, in no way, want to encourage anyone to handle venomous snakes without first doing the explicit research involved. This also includes owning nonvenomous snakes and understanding them fully before any attempt what-so-ever is made with a “hot.” My advice here is also to listen to what you are being instructed on and take the advice from experts. They got to be where they are for a reason. If you are going to throw out their advice then you should expect to get a bite and possibly death, not to mention you make a fool out of yourself in the process.”

As our supper comes to and end and the time to go for an evening stroll in Deadwood approaches, Paul shakes his head, coming out of his thoughts. He turns a serious eye on me and tells me what he would really like for the future and how he would like to be remembered.
“There are two things I really want to do and they are inextricably linked ….. I would like to run a public venomous snake display / combined venom lab to provide both education and a valuable product (venom) for research and to have and a wonderful woman as my partner or wife, someone who shares a love of reptiles, who understands the “venomous thing”…. Someone who is just as capable as me and is able to love me for who I am….. If it can only be “one thing,” I guess it would be to meet the (single) woman with her own venomous collection and take it from there.
Funny thing is you never really get to know what people REALLY think about you until you are dead and then it is a bit late!
Someday, I’d like to be remembered as a good snake handler….and someone who did something worthwhile. I guess that will do.”

For further information on the school where Paul works, please see the following site:
Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine
http://www.lstmliverpool.ac.uk

Oh! And what did Paul think about the Buffalo Burger? “I Really enjoyed it, tasted very good!”
Deadwood? “Fantastic place, full of real “History!” Signs gave details of famous events that had taken place on the high street. One highlight was having our photos taken in period costumes… even then I had to carefully check out the cowboy hats to make sure I had “my” style.”
*The Venom Angel would like to salute Paul for his bravery in taking this small trip with me. Paul didn’t scream one time while I was driving and there was ample opportunity for him to do so! “I” even screamed one time at my OWN driving! I lost a hubcap off my car right outside of Deadwood as we were leaving if that gives you any clue. Paul, you are brave to work with so many venomous animals on a daily basis and you are brave to ride in a car with ME driving!