Run Til We Come, Until We Be...

I had an early morning stop off in the town this morning, and discovered it thus. 

All sparkling in the rain.   

Weirdly I hadn't noted that the street furniture had been painted blue, until I looked at it in this shot.   I'm sure it was black before. 

I remember a time when there wasn't street furniture, other than the old concrete / wooden slatted benches which sat at the opposite side of this street.  There were two of them.  Denis, The Mad Hatter owned one of them.   If you dared, you could sit on the other. 

Sitting on the other chair meant taking the risk that you would get embroiled in a conversation with Denis.   I was never very sure what he was talking about, his hats, the mess on the streets, the people.  It was safest just to agree. 

Denis is gone now, along with the concrete chairs,  but I met ANOTHER chap this morning. 

He stopped me and said "Are you local, Miss? " in an accent.  "To be sure" I replied. 

Which is the road to Ayr?  He asked. 

"Are you driving?"

"Am waiting on a lift" he replied. 

I glanced around at the near empty streets, and contemplated best way to Ayr.  I pointed to a corner and said, "Take that road, go along it about a mile, maybe two.  You'll pass shops, small houses, big houses, mansions, and then you'll come to the corner where the Golf Course and two hotels sit.  Take a left, and follow that road. At the end of that road you'll see the signs for Ayr. 

"Thanking you kindly ma'am", he said,  and off he toddled with his BAG SLUNG over his shoulder. 

After I had been at Doctors, and was driving that very same road to Ayr,  did I not almost run him over.  Walking on the wrong side of the road, three miles away from where I last saw him. 

Ladies, and Gents.  I think there is a new breed of traveller.  No white van, no mercedes.  Just their feet and a bag over the shoulder.