According to Wilbur Smith folklore, the Bushmen of the Kalahari measure wealth by the amount of fat stored in their buttocks. Well, since I am (by most accounts) a pauper in Kalahari terms, it's fair to say that I really wanted to avoid a two point rump first landing on the icy pavement. So, I had to resort to a ginger, shuffle-trudge instead of the customary brisk pace. Consoled myself with lunch at The Rose and Crown. Which informed me that Australia is a trifling 16776km away, but managed to serve some quite interesting tasting ale.
And in something completely different, since I enabled vi mode on bash, the vim tips have been quite useful.