Friday, 9 September 2016

A cut above

Nicole from Calgary was in today.
She's on her own, visiting every English Heritage property she can using a GPS on her tablet.
Trouble was that today it ran out of juice so she asked if she could avail herself of an electricity source while having a cream tea? (She was the second person who asked to charge a battery today. I might have to start, ahem, charging.)
While she was waiting she told me of her travels in the UK.  She decides where she'll stay on the day itself. No plans. No bookings. Just turns up.
After visiting one historic site last week she pitched up in a town and went to twenty b&bs which all had vacancy notices outside but when she knocked the owners said they were full.
At the twenty-first the lady who answered the door questioned her closely - who was she? how long would she stay? where had she been? Eventually she opened the door and allowed her to check in. Nicole thought it an odd town where everyone seemed so suspicious of her.
She asked whether there was a restaurant nearby?
"Yes," said her new landlady, "but you might want to freshen up first. Have you looked in the mirror recently?"
Turns out that after misjudging a wall earlier that afternoon, Nicole not only had a big bump on her head (which she knew about) but blood in her hair and on her face (which she didn't).

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