Listening to all the recent stories of lockdown cheese and wine business meetings at the seat of government, I am reminded that during the same period one of my friends, in his late 70s, while on his one-hour daily exercise walk, had sat down for a few minutes' rest on a bench seat on Gurnard seafront and was promptly instructed to move on by a couple of passing police officers.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have been harassed under threat of being fined if he had been wearing a suit, had cracked open a bottle of burgundy, was sat with his accountant holding a business meeting, or was rustling up a sausage sandwich on one of those disposable barbecues.

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