Pellow talk

Today we bade a fond farewell to the little town of Seaton. It’s been a very welcome respite from limbo in Cambridge, and the cliffs have acted as a wonderful distraction. Hannah drove me to her house in Shrewsbury from where I’ll be able to bob and see the family at Christmas.

We entertained ourselves on the journey thanks to Spotify and a plethora of well known songs generated at random but covering the mid 1990s to early 2000s era. We surmised that Caravan of Love by the Housemartins is an excellent track, that the Lighthouse Family’s songs have always been a bit dull, and that Marti Pellow of Wet Wet Wet has a crackin’ voice.

Meanwhile lorries are backing up in Kent and supermarkets have started announcing shortages of certain products and restrictions on some items to prevent panic-buyers stripping the shelves.

It was not a smart move to try and enjoy a ‘refreshing walk’ on the way to collect the Chinese we’d ordered. We didn’t intend the refreshing feeling to be one of getting pissed on. However it was a very smart subsequent move to be found with platefuls of sesame toast in front of the chilling Netflix documentary about the Yorkshire Ripper.