As you can see, this rock contains the sunset. Apparently, if you are willing to stand there long enough, it might even become the sunrise. But I’m an impatient sort, so for me, it was only ever the sunset. A nice one though, don’t you agree? I was on a journey from one there to another along the North Downs Way when I found it. After about five minutes of a captivated stare (and the occasional cautious caress), I felt my corporeal existence waning. My body seemed to melt away and then, the next thing I knew, I was on a small boat on that sea, sailing towards that giant black cloud on the horizon. I realised that I was dying, but at the time, I didn’t seem to mind that at all. As I sailed, all manner of strange beasties jumped out of the sea and over the bow of
I saw this here toilet in this here field as I was walking the North Downs Way near Harrietsham in Kent. As I paused with amusement at the complete lack of utility of a wild loo with no modesty screen or plumbing, four lads on quad bikes pulled up. ‘Say’, one said, ‘aren’t you the person who writes 10,000 Delights?’ I must say that it was exciting to be recognised so, and it is to them I owe this cautionary tale. Thanks be to Stevie, Ralph, Benson, and Peter. You may be surprised to know that this isn’t a lavatory in the conventional sense. It is located at the far north western corner of an autonomous district called Rodorburg, which is adjacent to Harrietsham. Rodorburg has long since emancipated itself from both local and national government who eye it with suspicion, but have thus far not sought to suppress it, namely