There has to be a place where you can retreat in comfort and experience peace, tranquility and a pace of life that is not performed at the speed of sound.
Traveling has to be at such a pace these days that even a quiet drive in country is achieved at motorway speeds. A walk in the dales, on a hill-top or a valley can be fraught by the sonic boom of the swooping aircraft practicing their military manoeuvres and if you believe a walk along the sea-shore would be any better, do not be surprised while walking around the Wash in Lincolnshire you encounter jet formations looping the loop.
Some people believe that the only place to seek peace is within the precincts of the cloistered temples of middle England. I hate to be a Job’s comforter but be prepared at some point in time as was our experience the other day while seeking sanctuary from the mayhem of the A1 road network, that the parish priest has called in the builders and you cannot get near the altar for wheelbarrows, lifted rotten floor timbers and mugs of tea and the clamour of hammering is hardly an aid to inner peace and penitence.
This only leaves one place for retreat, beneath the duvet at night. Don’t count on it as the cat snores and dreams of mouse manoeuvres.