Follow the red line

Well, I have to report that today had an unexpected medical theme. Without boring you all with excessive detail, I managed to hurt my leg the other day and......the cut has gotten a little bit infected :( This meant a trip to the local general. In through the out door and then I was told to follow a rather dramatic red line around some inevitably taupe hospital corridors to the GP 'out of hours' clinic. I am now on a course of antibiotics and feeling a little... peculiar.
But I'll be okay. On a brighter note - and in a special note for Frank - I did manage to slot in a coffee at the local branch of [a national caffeine emporium]. There I ran into a jowly gentleman who had acquired the genial but very UnEnglish habit of exchanging jocular remarks with complete strangers. Apparently 'Apple fritters look like something out of Star Wars' and 'one of the most mysterious things in the world is getting to the front of the queue and forgetting your order'. Of course I kidded around with him for a bit but really, talking to people?? Joking with strangers?? Hadn't he heard that hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way? ;-)