venta

Those who enjoyed reading about travels with an inflatable panda may be interested to know that there are regional variations.

On Tuesday morning, Putney and I headed out of London. I had thought that Sunday's experiences might have been because people were all festivalled up and weekended out, but we were still finding lots of friends on Tuesday; almost the whole bus wanted to talk to us on the way to Paddington. A bloke driving the opposite way in a clapped-out Fiat gave us a round of applause as he paused in a traffic jam. (At that stage, there was a breeze blowing in through the bus window, and Putney was having trouble keeping his paws on the seat.)

Even the platform staff at Paddington - usually so forbidding - said hello, although we were left to ourselves on the train.

In Reading, however... in Reading, people cannot see if you if you are accompanied by an inflatable panda. There was not a smile, not a wave, and people I needed to talk to did their best to avoid me. I stood at a bar waiting to be served, while the girl behind it manufactured various excuses not to notice me.

Having grown used to my minor celebrity, it was quite disconerting. I think Putney enjoyed the rest, though, and snoozed gently on the pub floor while people came and went around him.