Wander with me. Wonder with me. It's not cold at all; the sun's shining and sparkling the ocean with light. The snow on the ground still isn't sure whether to come or go. It's quiet - quiet like those old Surrey days when the weather stopped us all driving and we leapt back into a Victorian peace. An old man shuffles past, mumbling, chewing. There are Lego houses, shambolic houses, neat and colourful houses. The mountains watch. A woman up there is doing yoga on her terrace. Breathe. A bunch of teenage boys are jumping up and down on the roof of a dilapidated shack: I want to warn them. The fishing boats are moored, waiting. Kids in hi-vis jackets are being shepherded across a road that hasn't seen a car for an hour. Breathe. The supermarket is called Pisiffik. There are no planes. In the old square, the old men smoke and stare. Let's sit down here and have a cup of coffee. All the time in the world. Just breathe.
OK. Let's head back now. And wonder: is that pram just a pram?
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