It’s raining (it’s pouring) and there’s no-one on the pavements of York but me and my big, purple umbrella. ☔ Well, almost no-one.
I startled a man from his gloomy (judging from the dark clouds on his rain-soaked brow) reverie by wishing him a hearty ‘Good Morning!’ His surprised nod was reward enough. This is, after all, Yorkshire, where dour is the habitual watchword.
I bamboozled a middle-aged woman walking on the pavement by slipping by to her left, which she obviously regarded as her sovereign territory. There are many people living here on York who have spent almost their whole life walking and driving on the right-hand-side of their paths and roads and so it’s a struggle to adapt to the UK’s left-hand-side ethos. I offered her a consolatory smile but she fended it off by ducking her face under her brolly.
A young woman passing me on a corner in her hooded (and soaked) raincoat said ‘ooo’ with a surprised tone to her voice. I hadn’t touched her and so I was, in turn, surprised by her interjection. I would have said ‘Good Morning’ to her too, but her back, as she marched away from me, looked a bit too huffy for my cheeriness to have had any effect. Hey-ho.
Right, I’ve reached Sainsbury’s now (I was sent out for bread (not really)) and so I’ll bid you a moist adieu. Hope you’re safe and happy. Robert.