I once cycled from Stockton to Washington. It hurt a bit. 

An essential stop-off when legs went all wobbly was Wingate. I’d never been before and have only been there once since. 

When seeking calories, we found a cafe. The coffee was great and the crisps were … well, crisps. 

The place was amazing; a plastic fronted cafe with gorgeous victorian/edwardian booths. Long, narrow tables and mirrors. Ok, so there was a little bit of graffitti. But the place was gorgeous. 

A few years later, I heard that the owner had died and his son wasn’t interested in taking over the business. 

This afternoon though, in the Euston Tap,  I came across a man from Winton (who now lives in Camden). We had an excellent conversation about the old cafe, which sadly is no more. 

Now, in my post train state, I can reflect on a nice conversation. And wonder about the fate of the gorgeous booths of the cafe. I can’t imagine. I heard that landfill might have been involved. 

I’d have bought the lot.