He was exhausted from so much walking, the tourist center people had taken his details and booked him into a little guest house.

He was a little worried because he had stayed at guest houses before in England and found those who offered “A peaceful stay in our family home” to be utter control freaks, wanting to know everything about their “Guest” (Really victim) and acting like the person filling their pockets by paying for this “Nosey parker” torture,
probably undeclared as taxable income-was some kind of alien. The images from the British comedy “League of Gentleman” of the “Local Shop” proprietress came to mind “Don’t touch the pretty things” when the “Pretty things” in question were usually bought cheaply from some dreadful second hand store. The woodworm ridden “Tastefully polished teak desk” was probably some worm ravaged veneered pinewood nightmare bought from some dump with a name like “Reminisces” for five English pounds. Read more…