Minced Oath

Having missed out on a square meal yesterday evening, and late to bed and late to rise, by dinner play I was famished.

In an atypical display of decisiveness, I determined I would not bother with town but would treat myself to more sausage, egg, chips and beans at Morrisons, borrow their car park, and head off along the canal. Even so, by when I got there, the itch to take photographs muffled the cry from my middle.

From the Old Warwick Road I headed west along the Grand Union in the direction of Warwick. Just before the Moorings the A452 crosses the canal via the 90s named Europa Way Bridge. Beneath, the pigeons congregate and the concrete drips. And over the years, young men have impressed each other and teased the chaps from the council with super-sized sketches of their bollocks.

I continued along the canal to the bridge crossing the railine to Birmingham. By when further on, I had reached the bridge over the Avon, camera itch seemed unlikely to be satisfied. So I about turned and went and had my scoff.