Life In 79

Like two characters from a Samuel Beckett play, we sat in our van, in a car park, on a Sunday morning, in a place called Moutiers-les-Mauxfaits (no I hadn't heard of it either), waiting...waiting for a man, we had never met before, to arrive. We didn't know if he would arrive...he said he would. 'I need the toilet,' I said.  'You shouldn't have had that second coffee,' Anna, my wife, said sympathetically. 'There's a public toilet over there,' she added.  'I've already checked it out and it doesn't meet my hygiene requirements,' I said...'I'll wait'.  A car swung into the almost empty car park.  'Is that him?'  'It might be'. Let me contextualise. We have a very big bedroom, enormous. It would take two to three minutes to walk around the perimeter... no exaggeration. What we lack in downstairs toilet, we make up for in bedroom. You could swing a cat, swing your pants, anything you care to swing could be ...