The Old Bridge of Wood makes for a handy halfway-ish point between Andy's base in backroads Boyton and mine in Hipswich. Huge number of caffs there. Helps henormously that Woodbridge, according to Rightmove, is "the happiest place to live in Great Britain", beating Richmond-upon-Thames (winner in 2023) to second and Hexham (winner in 2021) to third. Except that was 2024 and, well, things change. Most recent survey in 2025 had wannabe Woodbridge down to 5th behind Harrogate (4th), Camden (3rd), Richmond-upon-Thames (2nd again) and Skipton (winner in 2025). Ipswich's national rank? 87. That compares to the fine city of Norwich (49) and the jewel that is Bury St Edmunds (107, ahem).

Recently I've been doing a lot of bike-on-train journeys. Resisted the urge this time and instead sweatily cycled up and down Sandy Lane one Thursday lunchtime to meet Andy at Longfields, newest incarnation of the caff on Kingston Fields. Third time's a charm, they say, us having visited previously in both 2020 and way back in 2007. Must mention and give full praise to their drinks cabinet. Yes, there are the usual Cokes and Fruit Shoots, but also beverages from:

• Hip Pop -- "fizzy pop that's refreshingly real"
• Fentimans -- "botanically brewed, exquisitely crafted"
• Folkington's -- "authentic juices and mixers"
• Breckland Orchard -- "we make fabulous soft drinks which make people smile"
• San Pellegrino -- "Italian sparkling drinks"
• Pip Organic -- "making it easier for parents to say "yes""

Exactly 2pm when we joined the small queue only to be told, "Sorry, mate, we've just sold the last lunch". Oopsies: no paninis or sandwiches or jackets for us. Our good fortune, however, that they had a pair of prime sausage rolls remaining, and doubly delicious they were too with a bag of Brown Bag crisps on the side. All helped by finding an outside table within the pavilion's shade. My can of Hip Pop ginger and turmeric added more than a little zest.

Sweet treats were found in the form of ice creams at the reliable Riverside kiosk. Ride home or take the train? Neither since Andy 'andily offered to put my bike in his VW boot for the return TrIpswich. Him to physio, me to the nearest Lidl to cool down in their chilled section.

• Instagram -- Longfields Cafe

If it was a car -- Morgan Plus Four from Longfield Motor Co, North Weald.
If they were passing by -- Francis Pryor.

Bad me last attended the local Latitude festival fully three years ago, tut-tut. All change this year as soon as they announced personal hero David Byrne on the bill: here, take my £115 for a day ticket. In fact I'll take another one for my Good Lady Wife, please! Not often I've already got my ticket in January, six months prior to the event. Probs a bigger and better line-up this time due to their 20th anniversary. Think I've done around 15 of those starting in 2008, which ain't bad.

Up past the weird new A12 Sizewell-related roundabouts, parked on the site at 10:25 and into the arena at 10:58, already a long and dusty walk. Security guy deliberately emptied G's water bottle but wasn't interested in mine. Me and her took our oaty flat whites into Listening Post for Danny Does The Crossword, apparently back for its 16th year in a row. Where have I been all that time? There's a bespoke cryptic crossword for the this year's festival and we, as an audience, have 40 minutes to solve it. Example: "Gram and two Es in the mix -- it's not enough (6)". Surprisingly entertaining, and fully completed by the crowd within 25 minutes. Is it going in?

Splitting up, I popped my head into a discussion of street trees at the bookshop tent next door before heading to the huge Second Stage tent for the Adam Buxton Band, in full swing with his large festival pass pinned to his beanie. Crowd loves him up there singing about tea towels and aided by his Metronomy buddies. Lunch time demands meeting at the stumpy tree opposite the merch stand: Middler and boyfriend waiting, eventually joined by G. back from a Gok Wan DJ set. As per a T-shirt I saw, Gok Is A DJ. As per, way too many choices so pick one and stick with it. Very much liked my Irish spice bag eaten like a grown-up at a very long picnic table. Avengers, disperse.

Away from prying familial eyes, treated myself to a £6 marshmallow cone. Had hoped to catch some of Flo & Joan but that comedy stage is first come first served, so onto some pleasing Mesadorm in the woods -- is that my wife over there? -- then grabbed a grassy spot near the Sunrise for the electronic hardness of Adult DVD. Would later find out that my wife was in there dancing away.

Left mid set to secure a good in-the-tent spot so saw a tiny bit of Courttia Newland whose novel was shortlisted for the Arthur C. Clarke prize. Managed to get best ever place, absolutely front and centre, for the arrival of Adam Buxton and Ivo Graham in their matching Stop Making Sense big suits. Who knew they were such Talking Heads nerds? Terrific fun with singalongs of This Must Be The Place and a big Psycho Killer to finish. Joyous.

Saw one and a half songs by Australians The Heart-Shaped Aces and wandered past Greenpeace Cafe for carrot & chia cake to sustain me through Shellectronica in which nice guy Steve Pretty plays a selection of synth-altered shells. After a quarter of an hour, G. said it was doing her head in; I stayed, flat on the grass, for the full duration. Caught final track by Brooki -- wow -- and bought a £14 lamb curry to nourish me as Alessi Rose did her thing about 200m away, going down a treat with a way younger audience.

First and only time to the mahoosive Obelisk stage, trying and failing to find wife/daughter "near a pink and purple flag". Come 9:30pm and here's the main man, David Byrne, accompanied by a dozen or so musicians and dancers: the future's bright, the future's orange. Wasn't sure he still had it in him -- I'd seen him live in Cambridge in 1994, over 30 years ago -- yet he totally does. He sings, he dances, he makes the world a better place. "We stayed in Norwich," he said. Fine City, I thought. Houses In Motion one of many highlights for me but what a way to end with Burning Down The House. Stunning show.

That 11pm curfew isn't a great time for those of us with poor night-time vision. Follow the crowd, I thought. Down the slope, I thought. Ooh, donuts! And so it was that I brought a bag of fried pastries to various grateful family members at the stumpy tree before we did one last thing for me, namely to check out Gilles Peterson in the woods. Another top man, there with his mate Rob G., doing his stuff on the decks. Shame we were all so v. tired. Said goodbyes to daughter (doing the whole weekend), left the arena at 00:30 and found the trusty VW at 01:15 after another long walk. Pretty good day.

...and still missed Goodbye, Clara Mann and Theatre.

Chapter 19 of the non-bestselling Crinkle-Crankle Crew mentions Hollesley (aka The Colony) and some former notable inmates such as Brendan Behan, Jeffrey Archer and Andy Coulson. Prior to this visit, I suspect the closest I'd been to HM Prison Hollesley Bay was, of course, to visit a couple of serpentine walls, exhibits 1 and 2. Or possible a visit way back in 2012 to the nearby Suffolk Punch Trust which I'm told is currently closed.

In the glory days of Light Lunches there was often talk of visiting the prison. There's a caff? Yep, said Andy, and not one but two. Finally, then, in our Third Age, time to go all Norman Stanley Fletcher. Bike to station, train to Melton (MES), bike to Boyton on that l-o-n-g Going Straight stretch or road. Much needed WC2026 hydration break chez Andy and his GLW then off we go, him on his Nordic poles leading the way to Boyton Marshes, an "example of coastal grazing marshland". Hey, we're on the King Charles III England Coastal Path. Here be locations for The Dig, esp. that scene with Lily James and Johnny Flynn. Whereupon we briefly meet an older guy walking the other way, proudly shirtless.

Boyton Boy, who's doing this walk with someone who's not done it before, tells me we're heading for a distant treeline. He does this several times on our approximate four-mile stroll before we at last see signage for Marsh Barn Coffee Shop. With its giveaway tagline of "brewing new beginnings", the caff is run by some of the prison's Category D guests, that category meaning low risk of escape or harm to the public. And the service? Is absolutely all smiles and extremely polite, in the same way that the prices are extremely cheap. Sandwich and crisps and a can? £4, please. Where did you last see a jacket potato for £2.50? Greatly enjoyed my egg mayo and Piper's and Pepsi Max parked on a picnic bench round the back with Mr and Mrs Andy.

Given its out-of-the-wayness, I thought we'd be among the few people here, but not so. Very popular with the walkers and the twitchers, apparently. Also on offer are some fresh vegetable boxes and a selection of clothes, as a bonus. Veg, nice, obviously, but not as instantly pleasing as the carrot cake and chocolate cake that we split between us. Half-decent cuppa coffee, too. Coming away, I took a photo of the price list. Want to take one of me? said one of the hench T-shirted lads working in the cafe. What would you do?

If it was a car -- Ford Sierra RS Cosworth.
If they were passing by -- Sid Owen.