Continuing my exploration of your world, I decided I should leave my motorcycle behind, and try out some of your public transport. I took a train from Cambridge to Whittlesford on a dark and stormy November evening.
The man sitting opposite me could almost have been from my world, with his wild and windblown hair, his wide brimmed leather hat, and his fabulous multi coloured waistcoat. He had with him what looked at first glance, like a strange outlandish creature, but he explained to me that it was actually a set of Northumbrian bagpipes!
By a fortuitous circumstance, the gentleman, whom I shall call Colin, since that is his given name, was actually on his way to the same establishment as myself!
The Red Lion Hotel is an imposing building, which has a Tudor appearance. Colin and I made an impressive entrance, backlit by a furiously ferocious bolt of lightning, which framed us in the doorway.