It has been the most gloriously sunny and mild day of the year. But the Downs round here have been like a Poussin landscape — full of strange people who could be part of a hidden narrative, perhaps.
First there were a couple of couples, all togged up in startlingly clean fresh-from-Oxford-Street walking gear, the ladies with hair-dos which cost more than our weekly shopping. Then there was a trio of runners: two beauties clearly more used to running alongside the Thames, with their local guide. Finally a guy on an expensive new mountain bike, a toy drone strapped to his rucsac.
And whilst on an average walk almost everyone else is walking their dog(s), today most lacked dogs or children.
Then the penny dropped: yesterday Benedict Cumberbatch married a few miles from here, at Mottistone, an explanation?