My day

I had a sausage and egg in warm ciabatta on Central Avenue in West Bridgford this morning. It was lovely.

I stayed in the cafe for a second coffee and watched the rain get steadily heavier.

From my seat I could see Lady LaLa's bench.

I noticed the absence of a plaque.

I had a ten minute walk from there to where I was doing 'a turn'.

I got soaked.

When the bus drove through the small river that used to be a road and threw its bow wave towards me it didn't matter. I could be no wetter.

I did my turn. I stayed seated throughout so that no one felt the need to comment on my trousers that were several shades darker at the front.

Or my dripping.

This is Chesterfield station. I took this when I was last there just over two hours ago changing trains.

About twenty minutes prior to posting this, after the driver parked the train and stared at a sodding great puddle across the line for a while, we have just returned to Chesterfield in search of another route north.

I didn't take another photograph.

I've been in touch with Mrs B. She's on the brandy. Out of sympathy I assume.

If we ever get to Leeds I probably have to give up this seat too.

Still, worse things happen at sea, hey?

My feet are nearly dry now.