The sky was all purple, there were people running everywhere, so said someone, with exemplary guitar skills, but last night this really happened, the skies were purple and most people were sat in the restaurant watching and listening to the water bucket down in biblical proportions before the persistent thunder and lightning making us coo like teens.

Theres something so primal about being in the middle of a grandiose tropical storm (not quite in the tropics but you catch my drift) there was a couple who insisted on staying outside under the massive umbrellas and through the rain dappled plastic window sheeting I could make out the lady swaddling her self with whatever rug or sheeting she had with her; only the most perceptive people take sheeting to a restaurant, i’m going to start bringing a flannel or a “sweatachief” as its been quite rightly called, God I’m sweating so much around these parts and coincidentally around my parts, but you don’t really need to read that, so don’t… ignore it… The only reasons anyone had to leave the shelter of the opaque sided marquee type structure was to run accross the road into the restaurant for the toilet. If i’m honest being stuck in a restaurant and bar in the middle of a biblical tempest with fine food and an unlimited supply of booze isn’t such a bad spot to be in. The only worrying thought going forward was the sight of 4 wretchedly soaking wet diminutive figures pacing up the hill to Bedfordshire at various speeds, drowned rats all. 

Thank God for Uber and my daughter who controls the Uber, all hail and lets hope it doesn’t.