I caught myself running my fingers along the ridge-line of the Patagonian logo. I guessed they were traversing, metaphorically speaking, at a few hundred kilometres an hour.  The craggy terrain is actually felt in my fingertips, which I suppose could be a pair of legs. Coffee number, whatever- let’s say...

I find myself running with two 10 year olds. Twins. One has laces flopping about, untied, the other has no socks. They don’t like shoes, shirts, hats, jocks, sunnies or sunscreen. Shorts, to be decent, are fair enough. ‘Less moving parts’ is their moto, as if it were written on...