On Pitfalls and Pleasant Things.

Let’s have something we haven’t had for quite a long time, eh? A My-Day-In-Ashbourne post. (Sounds grander than it is, but I suppose it will do in the absence of anything better.) Here goes then:

The generally quiet little market town called Ashbourne has a troubled air about it at the moment, courtesy of the county council choosing to spend millions of pounds it doesn’t really have making a difference that doesn’t really need making. They’re digging up all the pavements (sidewalks) and replacing them with smart, off-white flagstones which obviously won’t stay off-white for very long. They’re also re-laying and making changes to the two town centre streets which carry all the summer tourist traffic heading for the Peak District as well as the year-round quarry wagons going in the same direction. Consequently, the quiet and normally unobtrusive little town is littered with yellow signs redirecting vehicular traffic, and red barriers doing the same to pedestrians.

It’s occurred to me a few times that if only we had steam vents blowing off and the odd broken fire hydrant treating us to an impromptu fountain, it would be easy to imagine being in Manhattan. Apart from the honking of horns, that is, or rather the lack of them. I think it’s probably self-evident that British – and other European – drivers are less given to impatience, angry outbursts, and the making of excessive noise in protest, than those who frequent New York City. But I might be wrong.

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(The line break is so you don’t get bored because you think there’s something completely different about to take the stage. There is actually.) This:

Costa Coffee has a new Ellie. She has all the physical credentials to be eminently noticeable, and I was somewhat intrigued by her nose. I couldn’t decide whether it was Jewish or merely aquiline, but decided it didn’t matter. She’s also energetic – constantly shifting from one foot to the other and occasionally breaking into a little dance to complement the background music. Ashbourne Costa has become somewhat downbeat and characterless since the last crew left after the Covid lockdown, so I have hopes that the new Ellie will re-invigorate the old place.

And do you know what she said to me? ‘I think I remember you.’ That’s what she said. Me? Memorable? The only time I remember anybody saying that was seven years ago in a different coffee shop (that was Lucy, the ex-dental nurse.) That’s how rare it is. It transpired that Ellie used to work in the pet shop where I bought seed and peanuts for the feeding of wild birds, although that doesn’t explain why she should have noticed me and remembered my face all these years later. (Then again, both Gollum and Quasimodo had pretty memorable faces, so maybe…) I chose not to smile at her lest she thought me creepy. I’m not, you know, not at all. It’s just that some people are wont to get the wrong impression when faced with the odd creature that masquerades as me.

But it got even better. The Bernese Mountain dog sitting with its humans at the next table, and the chocolate Cockapoo I encountered in the street following my departure, both insisted that my company and approbation were every bit the equal of a juicy bone and became my very best friends for a few minutes. And life made sense after all.