Phil...

I was looking around the church in Wareham, when a lady came up to me and said “How’s your leg?”. I said it was alright, the last time I looked, but I wondered who she thought I was. “You’re Phil”, she said, confidently. We had a chat, about Phil and the church and Wareham. As I was leaving she asked me to sign the visitors’ book. I signed it as ‘Phil’… what else?

I’m beginning to appreciate that, to a lot of people, old guys with a bit of a beard all look the same. We’re generic, interchangeable; one old guy is as good as another…

Another good place to stay...