There's No Place Like Home

This weekend Mr B and I went back to our homeland for a brief visit and a surprise birthday meal. We were staying with my grandparents in a little town / village called Garstang on the outskirts of Lancaster.

As we turned into Garstang and headed towards the chinese, we passed a rather unusual spectacle.

It was an elderly man on a bicycle, cycling down the main road ... in his underpants. Not just his underpants, but also a flat cap, shirt and tie and some walking boots. Definitely underpants though.

Soon after this, we passed a warning sign (which Mr B says has always been there, but which I have never seen). It looked like this ...

I feel that this needs no further explanation.

I texted our friend LB "You know you're in Lancaster when..." with a brief outline of the story. Her response was : "Tell Mr B to get back in the car. Now." She is officially the funniest person I know.