Hi, it's me, agent 006 (a real spy never reveals his true identity).
As the ancient Russian proverb goes, the early spy catches the, er, worm. Or in my case, catches the early bird 7.50am from Euston to Milton Keynes. Why? I hear you ask. Again, I cannot divulge too much about my top secret mission, but let's just say, a spy's gotta do what a spy's gotta do, and Spy Camp is the place to do it. While the other guys in my Spy corps seemed to prefer combats, I took my sartorial lead from the slickest secret agent of all: James Bond.
Three hours – and several hundred bullets – later, I had completed my spy training, honing my pistol skills, dodging an intricate laser trap in the dark, decoding clues to defuse a bomb… and finally earning my stripes. If you fancy a go at Spy Camp too, head out to Disneyland in Paris this autumn where special agents will be receiving tip-top tuition in wily spyly ways. Maybe that mouse outfit is just a cunning disguise, eh?
006's wardrobe: Tweed jacket by La Stupenderia; black trousers by American Apparel; trainers by D&G Junior; T-shirt by H&M.
