‘When I was told that “Mus. Reynolds come along last night” he was spoken of so intimately that I supposed he must be some old friend and expressed a hope that he had been hospitably received “He helped hisself” was the reply; and there upon followed the explanation, illustrated by an exhibition of mutilated poultry.’*
James spoke of some reference or other to ‘The Boosh’ (those in the know, know I suppose), about a Crack Fox. He said that we would be taking a sideways look for this fox and it was suggested that we “bring: cross bike with cross tyres on (and mtb shoes incase its muddy), lights, beer money, maybe a scarf and suncream, some giggles and finally a bit more beer money.”
That’s what we did, except Josh, who appeared riding a Dawes Galaxy with a full pannier bag and all of the touring trimmings – but we considered that he knew what he was doing.
What transpired was a very pointless and very silly higgledypiggledy tour of Lewes, in the dark. An hour and a half of weaving down twittens, up and down steps, along cobbled streets and some other places I didn’t really know but was glad to have experienced.
The fox remained elusive but the beer was good.
Thanks James. And, Alun, Jo, Josh, Kris, Sam.
*Extract from A DICTIONARY OF THE SUSSEX DIALECT & COLLECTION OF PROVINCIALISMS IN USE IN THE COUNTY OF SUSSEX, Reverend W.D. Parish of Selmeston, 1875.