‘Let’s walk to Folkestone...
I need some more of those non-slip hangers from Primark!
Where do I get these crazy ideas from?
Off we strode, luckily with the wind behind us.
We got there in one and a half hours making our mph just under three. Good going for a pair of old codgers.
‘I will buy you lunch with the money saved on petrol!’ he said.
So a pickled egg in a bag of salt and vinegar crisps?
Last of the big spenders!
Folkestone is such a happening place now, the ageing hippy in me felt happy as we trogged up the Old High Street. Being a Monday and out of season, he was safe, his flexible friend, if you’ll pardon the expression, stayed safely stowed away in his pocket!