The other day I took the train to the village of Cuffley. Apparently not many people go to the village of Cuffley because the village Cuffley got quite excited about it.
I though this might mean that I’d finally made it, but Myleene Klass lives in the village of Cuffley according to the internet and she didn’t meet me at the station, so probably not. Maybe she was too busy protesting something called an Anaerobic Digestion Plant which someone apparently wants to build in or on or under the village of Cuffley. I’m told this also happened in Radio 4 programme The Archers. Maybe it was why David Archer chucked that man off a roof.
The real aim of my visit to the village of Cuffley was to walk very far away from the village of Cuffley, which is lucky, as the village of Cuffley didn’t look very interesting, unless you’re a fan of naff churches.
I did find a house with loads of pictures of young boys pasted to the upstairs window. I was a bit worried that this might be the bedroom of a dead child and that the pictures were some kind of loving tribute to his life. It’s probably not okay to take a picture of that and mock it on the internet.
Luckily on closer inspection it turned out that at least 2 of the pictures were of Justin Bieber, and no-one can say that there’s anything wrong with taking photos of a 12 year old girl’s bedroom window and posting them on the internet.
For unrelated reasons I decided to get the hell out of the village of Cuffley and walk through some fields next to the railway line. It started to snow.
And who doesn’t? Onward, onward, under the M25 and into the hell world of Crews Hill.