Many years ago, before I got arthritis, I made it on foot from the Ham to the bar in the Late Night Extra with a pint in my hand - in 35 minutes. [No, I didn't carry the pint all the way, a friend was buying a round at the bar as I came in and caught my eye.]

(I have a recurring dream where I am in a campsite on my own, and there is a festival going on somewhere over the hill near the sea. I know that I am supposed to be at the festival but I never actually get there. I fear my dreams may come true.)