Pictured here at the St. Tropez although it was less St. Tropez and more shellsuited Basildon, still.
In other news on the commuting side of bicycling, I passed a bloke on the way to work this morning.
He was struggling along on his "regular" mountain bike, whilst wearing a camelbak slung around his ribs like a papoose. His bike by the way was kitted out with many of the latest Specialized must have accessories, as he struggled into the head wind.
Being the friendly type I let on and said hello as I rode passed, to which I'm sure i heard him mutter "twat" at me.
I've tried to think what else he might of said but nothing else quite has that "T" at the end of it like twat.
Also today, I visited one of Penzance's many Deli's/coffee houses today. Whilst getting a double shot, I perused the cheese counter. "Do you ever get any Cheshire cheese?" I asked. ( hankering for a taste of the old country)
the deli person looked slightly puzzled and repeated "Cheshire cheese? I'll ask, is that what it's called?"
Honestly....pfffft if it had olives and vine leaves wrapped around it. Roots and Culture!