Possible law-breaking, now, as we leave the county (just) for some essential shopping. Do that in Renfrewshire and you’ll be attacked with a battered
haggis Mars Bar.
Technically I’m safe buying my aubergines from Bury St Edmunds in Tesco as it has a slightly lower Covid rate than our own village. The sign at Junction 42 of the A14 saying “Cambs Plague Carriers Go Home” is surely a joke.
I’d dragged the family out to Bury for a short walk round the town and some street food.
Half the middle-classes of Bury (approx 13,711) had the same idea, so we did the walk first, up and down the six lanes leading out from the market place.
Lots of folk walking around forlornly, dozens of cafes attempting to make a living selling takeaway lattes.
We admired the beams.
Well, obviously I did; Mrs RM and James were bored stiff and used the tiny patter of rain to plead for a return to the car.
To be fair, I can’t really expect a 21 year old to be interested in brewery maltings and outbuildings.
Or views to churches.
By 1pm he was hungry.
As I’m all heart I offered to queue for the Japanese food while they headed back to the car.
At 1pm there was no queue, but over the next half hour I realised with horror that I was Number 71 and the folk returning to get their Katsu curry and Meal Sets were only Number 58. They’d probably been off to have their tea while they waited for their lunch. Life has slowed down these last 8 months, not always for the better.
It was pretty good, and freshly cooked, and would have been ideally washed down with a pint of Abbot from the Nutshell.
Another for the To Do list, then.