Decided on lunch. Found place selling burgers and beer. Sat down at table to consume said meal and was informed that, though they had sold me a beer, the establishment didn’t have a licence and I couldn’t drink it on the premises. Ate burger – before transferring next door and downing a ‘licenced’ pint. Eventually returned home late afternoon, très weary, to be met by Mrs G. who insisted I accompany her on a jog across the moor for an hour or two. I still have it, thinks Gudgeon – while clutching his knees/back and swallowing a handful of paracetamol tablets.