The Leaking Snout

A great name for a Peak District pub, maybe? 
Or just the state of my old snozzle?!

Thankfully, the weather was first class filth and I didn’t feel at all bad stating a coffee shop was preferable to a walk today.  We enjoyed a few cups of tea and a leisurely breakfast before checking out. Normally fairly efficient, my mode was immutably slow. I slept fairly well in a wonderful bed, only having to stifle coughs a few times so as not to wake Liz in her adjoining room.  But, I’m not on form.

It’s a long time since I’ve seen quite such driving drizzle. It was almost comical (if it weren’t so worrying) watching walkers and cyclists doing battle as we went to have a little recce of Winnats Pass in the car before finding some caffeine. One day, we’ll blaze up here in glorious sunshine (that was the hopeful plan) but everything was in agreement - not today! It’s always good when it’s unanimous.

We had a fine coffee and cake at the David Mellor cafe (I thought he was a politician, Liz a cyclist - you can see why we get on!) At about the time my nose began to run. 

It’s now 10 hours later. My hooter is hooting red. My language the same and I think it’s fair to say I’ve lost the game with this bug. The swearing has made no difference to the state of affairs but it passes the time.

I won’t need Pilates this week as my abs are working overtime helping out with alternate coughing, sneezing and blowing. Desperately hoping the quieter nature of the start of my cold has not shared it Peak-wide, particularly not to my generous buddy who knew a break would do me good.


Rich is now doing well on duty but keeping his distance. I get that. Germs are repulsive.