Chilly Journey

I rode into town this morning on the trusty two-wheeler, the first tome I've been out on the bike for quite awhile. Despite wearing my heavy British Warm overcoat, thick jumper, cords, scarf and gloves, the old finger-tips were aching with the wind-chill.

I locked the bike at Fountain Street and ventured into the venerable old Linenhall Library, where I researched the Wilsons of Maryville and the Nugents of Portaferry.

The ancient fellow-swimmer, Robert, was reading a newspaper on the first floor, so we had a brief chin-wag.