The chaos of Mexico City seems so far away and so long ago. Here in England, everything is so well organised. Down to the very last detail. Take the bus route for example. You wake up in Bournemouth Hospital having had a little accident the night before after a drink too many. But no problem – a bus will pick you up. And take you straight to church, where you can ask for forgiveness for the previous night’s indiscretions. On to the Post Office to cash the Social Security check, before stopping off at the village shop for a packet of smokes.
Next stop, The Bull. But be careful, and have a peek in the window before strolling in. You didn’t make it home last night and the missus might be loitering in your favourite watering hole, ready to give you what for. Worse comes to worse, The Stag is just one more stop along the line, and they serve a decent pint. And it’s one stop closer to the bus shelter, where you can get a few winks in and avoid ‘her indoors’.