Dump

It isn't often that I get monumentally dumped upon when cycling around Cambridge. Likewise in the tropics even during rainy seasons, it's customary to pause during showers and take shelter under a few banana leaves or a corrugated iron shack. No one cares if schedules have to shift.

Tonight caught me by surprise. I'd had an evening with the policy team of our refugee support group, generally seen as the drier, duller but necessary part of the work. We'd indulged in vast amounts of picnic food to see off and thank one of our lawyer volunteers Aziah, who is returning to live in Singapore. Along with another volunteer, Gill, she's been instrumental in supporting us through the process of becoming a charitable organisation.

Cycling back late I got soaked to the bone, but still stopped to snap this pub in the wet gloom.