December 9th – Lichfield has a little secret that I’d love to share: Melbourne Coffee.

In a passageway between Market Street and the central car park, there’s a kiosk run by a lovely Australian lady who, to put it frankly, can caffeinate me anytime. Here espressos are toe-curlingly good, and made with expert care, dedication, and the happiest, loveliest customer service you could wish for. 

On this cold day, the bar-seats at the kiosk counter had hot water bottles for customer comfort, and the brew slid down well, as no doubt would have the lovely looking cake were I not digesting my own bodyweight in marinaded goat.

The lady running this fantastic venture is the same lady behind the frankly bonkers Leomansley Snail thing, and I think she’s ace.

July 2nd – Passing through Leomonsley in Lichfield later in the evening, I note it’s holiday time for the Australian snails who currently have a bit of a beach party going on.

I won’t make any bones about this: The Lichfeldian ‘A-Snailian’ cult is bonkers, childish, utter nonsense and totally, totally brilliant. People regularly take diversions in their routes to see what the snails are up to. 

Find out more here – Facebook (sorry).

I love it to bits.

December 27th – Passing through Leomansley in Lichfield, in a hurry, I did a double take, and had to stop to record the Lichfeldian cervine genetic engineering project’s latest results.

I also learned from the ever informative, cardigan bedraped LichfieldLore that this is the home of the wonderful and witty A-Snalian thing. If you look closely, I’m being watched over the wall.

I’m told this is the second set of deer and penguins, the first being lost in the storm on Friday. That must mean there are others now roaming free.

Be afraid, kids, be very afraid.