A day recovering from the journey to Canterbury and back, and a sudden realisation that this is it. I am out of England. Out of the gloom and despondency. Away from the fretting bureaucrats and the Big Brother surveillance world. Away from the place where I gave them everything with my years of dedicated service – for little reward – and then they all deserted me when the police computer mixed up my details with someone else. England, I do not know you any longer. You are a stranger to me.
Computer Says No? Sorry, but life is too short. Rabit says Yes!!!
Life goes on. The rabit piligrimin has discovered that donkeys are far more interesting than the Archbishop of Southwark. (In the foreground, Daly, being fed by the rabit piligrimin. Looking on: the Archbishop of Southwark. Your turn for stale bread next, Your Grace.)