Hiking to The Gate.

K (breathlessly): Can we slow down a bit? You’re going fractionally too fast for me.

M: Oh, am I? Sorry. You know why, though: there’s a pub lunch waiting for me at the end of this, and the thought of it is propelling me forwards.

K (pointedly): It’s that stomach of yours again, isn’t it?

M: That’s right. But it’s all progress. Ten years ago, I was led by my dick; now I’m being led by my stomach. It’s all moving up the body, you see. Who knows: in ten years’ time, it could be my head

K (witheringly): That’ll be nice. I’ll look forward to that.

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