When my aged companion, Lester, suggested I accompany him on a holiday to the town of Fye I at first thought he was joking.
I never considered Lester as the holiday type, he was more your stay at home and watch the telly sort of man. So I thought.
But Lester had had a win in the lottery and wanted to see the world, as he put it, and Fye was to be his first destination. By the time we were ready to leave, Lester had been on his computer and found out all there was to know about Fye. Apparently, the word was a shortened form of the word fire, and in Lester’s head, he was itching to find out why the word fire had been corrupted into Fye.
We arrived on a Tuesday; Lester had a thing for doing things on a Tuesdays. And found our accommodation at the Fye Guest House and Laundromat. I discovered it was a town of odd combinations. The local pub was also the pharmacy, and the supermarket doubled as the church for Sunday services.
Lester meanwhile busied himself flitting here there and every where, taking photos and ultimately organising for us to go on a river cruise with Alf Majors’ River Tours which had to be organised between milking times of his large goat herd.
It turned out a wonderful holiday and Lester despite his age never showed a moment of tiredness being more than happy to go through the day taking in everything the town offered and planning further holidays on his trusty computer.