To say we had a plan for the day would be an exaggeration. We decided to go for a walk, so while the Silver Vixen was getting ready, Gorse Fox sat with his laptop plotting some suitable routes. By the time we were ready, however, the weather had become showery, with hail mixed in. We decided to conduct a referendum, a la Francais, and like the French, we voted Non!. So the plan changed.
Whilst away last week, making use of the ubiquitous Corby trouser press, Gorse Fox became conscious of the wear and tear that his business suit has taken, and feared an impending wardrobe malfunction. Plan B, therefore, was to visit the emporium of Messrs Marks and Spencer at nearby Southwick. After causing a near melt-down on the plastic GF walked off with a number of jackets, trousers, shirts, ties, and so forth. The newly styled Gorse Fox was ready to meet the world in a dapper new style. The Silver Vixen had tried hard to foist pink shirts upon the GF, but just like visiting Wales, you have to draw the line somewhere. Trinny and Susannah would be proud.
We headed inland looking for a suitable hostelry for lunch. Steyning had been our initial destination, but we had picked the day of their country fair, and it was heaving. We moved on along the foot of the Downs and eventually stopped in Washington. (No not that one, the one in West Sussex). We had an unassuming lunch at the Frankland Arms and then headed home.
By late afternoon the showers had blown away, the natural order of things had been restored, the sky was blue, the sun shone and Kingston Gorse sighed as it nestled peacefully against the shore.
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