We all gathered at my parents’ house in a small town off the M4 corridor for my sister’s wedding. It was a huge affair, largely because the expected guest list of family and friends was supplemented with the names of numerous vague acquaintances. Most astonishing of all, the tiny bridesmaid in shocking pink was a toddler called Lucy. This child was only known to us up to the wedding day as the daughter of NH, a woman I had met online through Blipfoto.

With so many guests to deal with, setting up the room was hard work, and we only managed to get the seats and tables in place with five minutes to spare. Then we had to deal with the smokers. I patrolled the room and ejected anyone who lit up.

After the wedding day, and for the remainder of my stay down south, I cycled through the commuter towns of the south of England. I almost reached M and AP to the east in Reading and KG in Bristol to the west – but not quite.