For a visit to a museum — any museum — I have learned not only to wear appropriately supportive shoes, but also to sit down at every opportunity. My back does not tolerate the slow mosey of most museum patrons and quickly starts to ache if I don’t either pick up the pace or halt altogether and take the load off. Consequently, I never go on popular days — I’d get myself chucked out for charging through the throngs of folks standing in the gangway while they discuss brushwork and lighting. No museum has ever had enough benches, incidentally.

According to my fancy Space Age bathroom scale, I have altered my body composition to less than 35% fat, and therefore can no longer be described as “over-fat”. I’m sure that’s great for heart health etc., but the skin on my thighs is a size too big and I have to wear a sweater and wool socks.