Country Living: Our Man in Arundel

"Would you like a lift?"
The guy in the blue Fiat stopped alongside me and wound down his window.
"Thank you but no - I'm heading for the station and I've left plenty of time."
A friendly wave and he'd gone.

That tends not to happen in big towns, does it? Certainly not when you're an I-can't-believe-I'm-in-my-40s bloke striding manfully down a fairly busy road. (Some of that last sentence exists only in my imagination!)

If I was to get all philosophical - and I probably am - I'd say that's what the oft-sought mystery of 'community' is all about. Not the helping part... but understanding. Empathy. Offering a lift in the knowledge it'll save me from walking down Ford Road and playing 'chicken' with the oncoming traffic. Not gossiping from behind your net curtains but being there to help if you're asked. Okay, philosophical moment over.

Incidentally, it wasn't my mother's warning about talking to strangers that made me decline the lift. Neither was it a similar message from Charley the talking cat. No, it was simply the fact that waiting at Ford station would have been boring and cold... and I'd just enjoyed a decent-sized cheese sandwich for lunch. I reckon I needed the exercise.