Just around the corner I painted a caravan in a field. The owner pops around each evening and mows the field. The field is tended so well you could bowl on it. I asked him what he was preparing the field for. Tourist camping maybe? It turned out to be nothing whatsoever, he just seems to like mowing. He mowed I painted.
We popped over to Bangor for a while. There was a chap and his wife running a small kiosk on the pier. They sold crab lines and tea towels etc. He was not Welsh so I asked him what brought him to Wales. ‘Ohhh’ he said with a worried face. ‘I couldnt’ stand the rat race of Dorset!’ No need to ask whether he had ever lived in London.
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