He's off to the tip so a trip is proposed I'll just nip into town past the roundabout Ship and then whip right past Willis and zip up The Saints where it's happening and hip for some dip and a sip except there's a blip and I might have to skip. Flip.

We settled on a 2:30pm rendezvous before I realised that the new-to-us Sandwich Shop on St Nicholas Street closes at that very time. Oh, and I was deep in a WFH Teams call around 2pm. Dead important work stuff finally over, I made one of those old-fashioned phone calls -- remember those? -- and the nice lady was happy to take my pre-order for two sarnies. I'll be there for half-two-ish, I said. Don't hurry, she said, we'll be cleaning. Good good.

Andy, sweetly smelling despite his waste-related visit, is there first, obvs. Even more typically, he's chatting to another customer who turns out to be Yet Another Contact of his. Boy's like a walking talking Linked In. Far too nice to sit indoors when we can nab the pair of battenberg seats out front. Smiling woman wants reassurance that I didn't hurry down -- my glowing face perhaps gave me away -- and hands over our goodies. We ain't going far.

For some years this was the highly rated St Nicholas Stores. Last year, 2023, Katrina (she serves) and Andy (he bakes) bought the business to establish "the home of the focaccia sandwich". Out in the darn heat, we're sharing (aw!) the Italian -- sausage and mozzarella and pesto -- and a Bean -- roasted veg and white bean and tapenade. Both made with grilled focaccia, they're finger-licking fine and super suited to a sun-drenched street.

Poor decision to pre-purchase our chocolate heavy desserts which are now in a more liquid form inside their paper bags. Many napkins were involved in the consumption of some fine ginger tiffin. Diagonally down the road is Cafe Myra whereas up the road is Rocket Music, outside of which is a guitar being examined by a guy with a familiar face. That'll be Matthew, one-time tuba tooter. After saying our light lunch goodbyes, I spent the next half-hour reminiscing about life in the Westbourne School Brass Band, 1979 to 1984, a story for another time.

If it was a car -- Nichols N1A.
If they were passing by -- Nicholas Hoult.

Fabulous WFH Friday, a Bute of a day. Sun's big and bold up in the Skye and I'm freshly back from the fourth-largest island in Scotland, that there Mull. Arran to meet Andy outside the newly tarted-up Tesco but he beat me to it; I failed to recognise his Yeti. Me? Iona VW Polo.

Out by Morrison's we figuratively speed from J54 round to J56 then left into The Street (reach Jimmy's Farm and you've gone too far). Were we playing ping-pong, we'd head into the stable block. Word is, however, of a new-ish eatery in Wherstead Park so let's be cheeky and park with the executives right outside. Used to be the HQ of Eastern Electricity when I attended meetings here over 20 years ago; is now home to the Rochdale Pioneers, aka your caring sharing Co-op.

Through the magic doors and first left, even before reception, is Sarah's Coffee Shop, a curved area with a smattering of tables and a concise three-column menu on the wall:

• column 1 — hot drinks / cold drinks / teas
• column 2 — sandwiches, wraps or rolls / jacket potato
• column 3 — panini / salads / snacks

So what do we do? What we do is both order The Mike, today's handwritten special panini with pesto, chorizo, chicken, cheese and sundried tomato. Is your mouth watering? It should be, 'cos those hot 'n' toasty breads we were brought five minutes later were very good indeed. Note my Nettles-approved Cawston apple on the side and the driver's apple 'n' lemon 'n' ginger fruit cooler. Which is an apt time to mention the ambient cool temperature, a welcome change from the Friday furnace.

I'm chewing away when one of the many worker ants taking away their lunch stops to say hi. It's always Andy who knows somebody. Finally my turn to wave, wipe my cheesy mouth and exchange words with a former colleague. Weird. Of course we didn't need that carrot cake nor the chocolate muffin yet of course we had them, mine with a huge flat (but actually quite tall) white.

Saying our thank-yous to the single woman running the place -- not Sarah today -- she asked how we'd heard about The Mike. I pointed at the mini blackboard on the countertop. Oh, she said, not on the radio, then? I gather that Sarah has a show on Suffolk Sounds and had been discussing sandwich fillings, and, waddya know, had promoted her own product. Why not when it's that delicious?

If it was a car -- Sarah Jane Smith's Nissan Figaro.
If they were passing by -- Sarah Crabtree.