through the round(ish) window ....

.... lies madness.

The morning starts well; breakfast in the Spanish cafe - (poached eggs and sausage, followed by almond tart and chocolate brownies with raspberry coulis) - and then a wander round the nearby farmer's market.  (see Anniemay's entry).  Note the singular use of 'farmer'.  There is a market, but just one farmer.  No matter - there's also an Italian baker and a few other people selling home made stuff.

We chat to the farmer - he comes here every other Saturday.  We explain that we're only here for a few months before moving to Newport Pagnell "that's alright - I'm there every other Friday..."

He explains which of the produce on offer is grown on his own farm and which he's bought in, because his is not ready yet.  

He offers us his phone number so we can text him with any special requirements or to find out when he's around.  He gives his dirt-encrusted phone to Anniemay; "you'd better do it" he says "you can tell I work on the land".  

It all looks very good and he's a nice man.  We make our selection and pay.  In coins.  The dream of walking into town and buying local produce just might come off.

What he doesn't sell though, are fluffy dusters.  So we cross the road and brave Tesco's.  Utter madness.  On the way out Anniemay points to the jammed carpark -"it's only closed for one day ......."

As we walk back to the train shed I notice the supermarket through one of the windows of The Reading Room.  I am trying very hard not to be smug.  Honest.