Monday am. penultimate morning in England.
What I should have done and what I actually did are not the same: it's why I am constantly ill at ease. Firstly the long walk up to Waitrose via St Chad's in Headingley, which was a test to see what the shoes I've been wearing for dog sitting/walking duties since July would be like on a long walk through suburbia to the pain on my left arch area, was a good thing. Then I briefly saw Glenn who was a little shifty and wouldn't come for breakfast across at Fika, so I stupidly bought two doughy bunlike affairs at the bakery/deli just off Hollin Lane which didn't give me the kind of energy I sought. Walking into Meanwood, through the park I didn't feel right so after the purchases I made at Waitrose I wrongly had two sour half pints - one each in Terminus and Alfred - and then, because the new Meanwood Tavern doesn't open until October - where I was going to have one more half and then head back to the flat - I walked back into Leeds along Otley Road, going over ...