'Thought for the day'
Walking out of Huish Episcopi into Langport the other Sunday morning, showing my passport to the Jones boys at the Hanging Chapel checkpoint, I decided to head down Priest Lane. The medieval walkway was covered in leaves and wet and within seconds I lost my footing and somebody had slipped up behind me.
"I didn't know you worked on Sundays" I said. We exchanged pleasantries and I continued down to North Street, passing the boarded up place opposite the old Black Swan.
Just then I noticed this local homeless resident, wandering around and looking lost.
Just then I noticed this local homeless resident, wandering around and looking lost.
Making my way along 'Upper Bow Street' - Ordnance Survey still hasn't worked out where that is - I turned Post Office Corner and looked down at what our town is known for - it's long long narrow main street with its leaning back houses.
As I walked past Boilertec, wondering how many different ways there are to display a pair of gardening gloves, I gazed up at the jewel in Langport's crown left 2 millennia ago by the Romans: the ancient sundial sticking out of the roof of the town hall. However, it was cloudy. I wasn't sure if it was twenty to nine or ten to six.
Further down Bow Street I had a cup of tea at the cafe at St Mary's Church Hall, which some locals apparently call The Angel. Further down the street still, I tripped over a cat as it ran terrified out of the front door of the Chinese Takeaway.
"Flied Lice?" said a voice from inside. "Not today thank you" I replied.
As I approached the end of Bow Street, just before the bridge, I was knocked down by 38 cyclists heading to The Wharf for morning coffee. Dressed in lycra from head to toe on their state-of-the-art racers - they made an impressive sight. "How's life in Pitney?" I asked.
Just then I was mugged and injured by a group of inmates escaping Langport Prison and since then I've been writing this blog in the waiting room at Langport Surgery where Hattie Jacques threatens me hourly with a daffodil. (Watch the film)
But despite all the trauma of my Sunday morning walk....I wouldn't have it any other way. We may all grumble about the old place (especially me) but for many of us Langport - and all the nutters who live here and around the town - remains at the centre of the universe...where it belongs - and long may that continue.
Who would want to live anywhere else? (please form an orderly queue)
