Pocklington...

Spent last night in Pocklington, where a flower shop stayed open late to flog Valentine’s Day tat. Avoiding any pub offering overpriced meals for romantic couples, I found a local boozer with a pool table. Two guys were playing, though the game didn’t last long because they were both going for the same-colour balls. I met an old guy (old? he was probably younger than me) who also lives in a motorhome; we swapped tales of the nomadic lifestyle. He was quite impressed when I said I’d been doing it for nearly five years.

Licensed today: motorboat racing in Barrow Docks...