We’d been planning this expedition for months. It was to be an epic ramble across the west of the county while calling in at some hostelries. We’d planned to do it wearing dinner jackets but the floods had come in recently so I wasn’t prepared to risk my clobber. Maybe I should have bought some charity shop stuff. Instead, I’d arrived in full rambler gear complete with map and compass. I drove to my friend’s house where I’d been stopping the evening, and we got on the beer as soon as I’d arrived. I got introduced to his other friend who came up from London and looked a bit glazed already. It turned out that he’d stopped over at his parent’s house the night before and went to catch up with his friends. ‘Good luck’ they said when my friend went to pick him up. The first pub wasn’t too far away, so we walked over, cans in hand. An apparent opportunity for a shortcut came up through an old people’s home to cut off the corner of the road. I think this guy has forgotten about country values.
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