The next villager, this time male, also wished me the same. Me back. The third I beat to it and got ‘And a very good morning to you, young man’. Now I knew was in a strange land.
I got to the newsagents/mini mart in the short row of shops I’d seen as we’d arrived. A hairdressers/barbers, a real butcher, a bakery and an iron mongers that seemed to stock everything but irons. I pushed open the door, and a bell attached to it announced out my appearance.
Next surprise was that the proprietor of the newsagent was a middle aged white man. Like I said. Definitely not south London.
There was an old dear at the counter picking up her copy of the Mail, a jam Swiss roll and a bunch of sweeties. Haribo, a Milk Tray Easter egg, and assorted bars of chocolate. I looked round the place as I waited. E
