When the High Street Was King: Shopping in 1960s and 70s Britain (Part Three)

The local toyshop, just around the corner from my home back in the 1960s, was a treasure trove for local children. It seemed that every toy we could ever want was in that small shop. Mind you, at the time it didn’t look small. To a small boy, though, it was big, stacked from top to bottom with every toy imaginable. I only discovered, years later when I revisited the area, just how small the shop was. 

It was in a row of local shops, conveniently next door to my favourite sweet shop.

I would visit the toyshop several times a week, mostly window shopping, but occasionally I would pluck up the courage to go in. As you walked in, the left side of the shop sold toys for boys. To the right, girls' toys. Needless to say, I never crossed the boundary to the right. 

The shopkeeper would look in my direction. 

“Hello again.” He would say, in recognition of my many visits. “What interests you today?”

“Just looking." I would reply.

“Well, don’t look for too long, because next time you come in, what you want now might be sold.” 

The shopkeeper tried his best to encourage me to spend.

When the High Street Was King: Shopping in 1960s and 70s Britain (Part Two)

 

Buying something on 'tick' is a British idiom that means to buy on credit. 

It might be used alongside other idioms, like to buy on the “never-never”. Often people would use both. 

Another way of paying later that was popular in pubs was to buy drinks and then ask the barman to "put it on the slate”.

It probably helped if you were friends with the publican.

In many ways it was a system based on trust.

Buying on “tick” and the “never-never” or “putting it on the slate" were all forms of credit, but not in a legal sense. Typically, it was often a private arrangement, and perhaps most importantly, there was usually no interest to pay. In other words, you just owed the shopkeeper or publican money for goods purchased. It was one way of helping customers through the week until they got paid. It worked as long as you settled your bill on time; otherwise, you might end up being banned or barred.

And it was different from purchasing items by using an actual credit card. The first credit card was introduced in Britain on 29 June 1966 by Barclays, but it would take a long time for their use to become widespread. For the most part even paying by cheque was rare. Most people didn’t have a chequebook or that type of bank account. 

In fact, many people didn’t even have a bank account.

And debit cards were also some way off in the future as well.

The 1960s and 70s were a time when cash was king.

When the High Street Was King: Shopping in 1960s and 70s Britain (Part One)

 

Back in the 1960s and 70s, Saturday was the big day of the week when people went shopping. The weekend often began with a shopping trip.

“Up town”

Even if you lived in a city, a shopping trip was typically referred to as going “up town”.

I still make those Saturday shopping trips to my local city centre, but things look very different now. The side streets have just as many closed shops as open. It has been that way for many years, and the city centre today is nowhere near as busy as it was in the past. While there are calls to revitalise city centres, it tends to overlook that people have more choice as to where and how they shop today.

There wasn’t as much choice in the 1970s. There were local shops and markets, but out-of-town (or city) shopping centres were still only a town planner’s dream. The first arrived at Brent Cross in London in 1976. Out-of-town superstores had been around for a while, although I only rarely visited one.

We mostly went “up town” to do our Saturday shop.

There was a time when the high street and the city centre were the place to go when it came to shopping. Before online shopping and before everything could be delivered to your front door with the click of a button, most of us went shopping in person.

That meant a car or bus journey, sometimes a walk.

On Saturday morning, the town centre was often "packed" by nine o'clock. Shops were full, queues long, and buses arrived every five minutes. If you wanted a new pair of shoes, you went to the shoe shop. If you wanted a record, you went to the record shop. If you needed a birthday present, you went into “town” and looked around the shops. Christmas shopping was hectic, and it didn't begin in October either.

As a young boy, if I wanted toys, which was most of the time, I would visit an actual toy shop. I remember one in the city centre that was massive and had every toy I could ever want. The fact that I would always leave the shop empty-handed, with a “Maybe at Christmas” comment from my parents, gave me hope that often failed to deliver.

Santa must have forgotten.

Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Comfort Foods That Kept Us Going - Bread and Dripping: So Good It Caused Riots

 

If ever there was a meal that perfectly reflected Britain’s frugal past, it had to be bread and dripping. Perhaps hard to believe now, but there was a time when it was seen as a nutritious and desirable meal. A meal that was eaten regularly across the land.

But what was bread and dripping?

Back in the 1960s and 70s, for many it was almost a staple meal. In our house it was served as a once a week event, on Sunday. That was the day when a traditional beef roast was cooked. When finished, the fat left in the roasting tin wasn’t thrown away. Instead, it was poured into a pot and allowed to cool. It was then used to spread on bread, or as a cooking fat.

When I went to live with my gran in the early 1970s, she would always serve up a couple of slices of bread and dripping after Sunday dinner. There was a skill to getting it right, though. The right balance between the leftover meat juices and fat was key. Often the rich meat juices settled underneath the layer of fat, creating an extra burst of flavour. Out of the pot, it would be spread onto bread or toast, sometimes with a little salt and pepper.

Too much fat, though, could spoil the sandwich — or maybe that was just me? I was not that keen on too much fat. It could be served at any time, as a filling afternoon snack or as a simple supper. In an emergency, it was a lunchtime sandwich to take to school.

To modern eyes it may sound unhealthy, and it was. A sandwich, the contents of which were mostly fat - and it wasn’t good fat. Exactly the opposite, it was loaded with saturated bad fat. But the truth was, many people were blissfully unaware of the dangers of too much saturated fat back then. 

And who was going to tell us anyway? 

We were years away from healthy lifestyle information being readily available. This was a time when many people were more concerned about wasting what was seen as perfectly good food than its fat content. The dripping from a roast dinner was simply an opportunity to make more meals. 

And then there was the cost.

With money and household budgets often tight, we ate what was available. Leftovers often became the next meal. Throwing food away simply wasn’t an option. It’s another reminder that previous generations often had to make every penny count and that austerity was nothing new.

People have even rioted over dripping.

Five More TV Catchphrases That Defined 1960s & 70s Britain

Following on from our look at five famous television catchphrases that became part of everyday British life in the 1960s and 70s, here are five more that many people of a certain age will remember instantly. 

Catchphrases from television programmes which became a part of the language of the time.

Love them or hate them, a catchphrase once heard almost had a life of its own. And if you were in the business of show business and were the one who came up with the catchphrase that took off, you would be remembered forever.

So, let’s get started.

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“I didn’t get where I am today …” — C.J. from the BBC comedy series The Rise and Fall of Reginald Perrin and The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin

The Rise and Fall of Reginald Perrin is the story of a burnt-out and very bored executive, Reginald Perrin. Written by David Nobbs, it tells the story of Reginald Iolanthe Perrin.

Simply known as Reggie, Perrin was played by Leonard Rossiter. The series follows Reggie as he faces a midlife crisis and decides to fake his own death. He leaves behind his old life and searches for something better. He ends up working on a farm looking after pigs and soon realises that the grass is not always as green on the other side.

His boss, C.J., was played by John Barron. C.J. is the pompous managing director of Sunshine Desserts who sees himself as above all those around him. Whenever he disapproved of or questioned anyone, he would always use his favourite expression:

“I didn’t get where I am today by …”

He would then offer his opinion — a supposedly wiser observation about business or life that questioned the proposition. The humour was in the repetition. C.J. was completely convinced of his own self-importance, while everyone around him either feared him or took no notice.

The phrase was one to use as a joke. As a putdown, it could be adapted to almost any situation.

“Eat your greens.” Mam might chastise me across the dinner table.

“I didn’t get where I am today by eating greens …”

You didn’t even need to finish the sentence. Everyone knew what was coming.

〰〰〰〰

“I’m free!” — Mr Humphries, from the BBC comedy series Are You Being Served?

Another phrase that became part of British popular culture came from the BBC sitcom Are You Being Served? Mr Humphries was played by John Inman. He worked on the menswear counter at the fictional Grace Brothers department store.

His famous cry of “I’m free!” was delivered with a knowing, flamboyant and somewhat camp flourish that raised the inevitable question about Mr Humphries; was the character gay? I can’t remember it ever being mentioned in the series, and Mr Humphries did occasionally mention girlfriends. No answer was given.

There was no doubt that the character of Mr Humphries was camp, though. His reply of “I’m free!” became one of the show’s most recognisable jokes. The character and catchphrase reflected the risqué, innuendo-filled style of British sitcom comedy that followed in the tradition of the Carry On films. It became increasingly popular during the 1970s.

Five TV Catchphrases That Defined 1960s & 70s Britain

 

There was a time when television was still relatively new, yet its influence on everyday British life stood out. With only three television channels for much of the 1960s and 1970s, millions would watch the same programmes. The most popular would regularly have audience figures of fifteen to twenty million; at Christmas, they would be higher.

Today, it is very different. There is far more choice and many ways to view “television” content. Audience figures, even for the most successful programmes, are much lower now. Back in the nineteen sixties and seventies, if something was popular on television, chances were that a large proportion of the country had watched.

And that meant television catchphrases could quickly escape from the small screen and become part of everyday conversation. They often became popular overnight. Many were funny, and you didn’t necessarily have to explain the joke, as many had already seen it. Say the phrase in the right voice, and everyone knew exactly what you meant.

Here are five memorable examples.

〰〰〰〰

“I wanna tell you a story.” — Max Bygraves

Max Bygraves was one of Britain’s best-known entertainers. He performed at a time when those in show business would simply call themselves an entertainer. The “Jack of all trades” type of act. They would typically sing, dance, play instruments, tell jokes and stories, and even act in films. A bit of everything.

And if there is one catchphrase that people who lived through that time will remember Max Bygraves for, it is “I wanna tell you a story.” It became closely associated with his stage and television performances.

Bygraves would typically use the phrase before launching into a joke, story, or anecdote. His delivery was as important as the words themselves, slightly exaggerated, becoming part of the character. “I wanna tell you a story” was a simple, memorable and easy-to-imitate catchphrase. Children and adults alike would use it, and often did, when they had something to tell.

It became so popular that impersonators like Mike Yarwood did their impression of “I wanna tell you a story” with exaggerated waving hands. Yarwood’s own television show would regularly attract a big audience. If you watched Mike Yarwood, then you didn’t need to be a fan of Max Bygraves to know about the “I wanna tell you a story” catchphrase.

And Bygraves himself thought highly of it, as he named his autobiography “I wanna tell you a story”.

It may be less well known today, but just about everyone might have said it at some point back then.

 〰〰〰〰

“Just like that!” — Tommy Cooper

Few comedians had a catchphrase quite as recognisable as Tommy Cooper’s “Just like that!” Cooper had a very distinctive appearance, a big physical presence, and he always wore a red fez. 

He was a magician and a very funny one.

His act was based on magic tricks. He would attempt a trick, fail spectacularly and then confidently announce, “Just like that!” He perfected the art of doing magic tricks badly, but he would often follow it up by actually doing the trick right with an add-on to his catchphrase.

“Just like that — not like that — just like that!” When he finally got it right.

Tommy Cooper’s timing was the best in the business. Actually, he was an excellent magician, but he also crossed over into telling funny stories and jokes, while occasionally attempting to sing. He could turn a simple phrase into a punchline through his delivery and facial expressions.

“Just like that!” quickly became something people could use whenever something happened easily, unexpectedly or, perhaps, not quite as successfully as planned. It became something you could hear repeated in homes, workplaces, and school playgrounds.

The Writer's Life : A Simple Reason Why Books and Reading Are Important

 

 

Two stories about books: One involves war, the other, Dolly Parton.

Last week I came across a news article about books that was front-page news on the BBC website. 

It was about the publishing industry in war-torn Ukraine, but not for good reasons.

For anyone who is a book-lover and reader, here’s the bit you would rather not read. Russia has been targeting the book publishing industry and books as part of its war on Ukraine.

Here’s the BBC headline:

Russian strikes destroy 12 million books ahead of Ukraine’s first week back at school.

In recent weeks 35 publishing facilities were hit. It’s part of a concerted effort by the Russians to attack cultural targets in Ukraine. That includes book publishing, museums, art galleries, film studios, libraries, and opera houses. I suspect that the attacks probably violate international law, but since when has that mattered to an aggressor?

The fact is, when it comes to war and extreme politics, the written word and books are always a target. 

Then I came across another news story about books — one that tells us about the importance of books and reading in our lives. A positive story that takes us away from the nastiness of those who choose destruction and aggression.

Did You Know… Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Hot Summer of 1976 - The Long Heatwave That No One Forgot

 

It’s the summer of 2026, and officially, the UK has seen five heatwaves this year, the latest one coming to an end last weekend as temperatures dropped to mid-twenties.

This year, the grass in many areas has turned brown and then yellow. We have seen wildfires and drought conditions. Health warnings about heat exhaustion are front-page news. The hottest day of the year so far was recorded at Kew Gardens in London, with temperatures reaching 38.1C.

We have had hot summers before, but hot, relentless heatwaves are rare.

1976 was one of those long, hot unforgettable summers.

It was fifty years ago, and back then we didn’t have weather apps or amber heat warnings. There was no rolling television coverage. Unlike today’s forecasts, there were no smartphone alerts warning us to drink more water or stay indoors. Like now, we knew it was hot, but being a young teenager, the sun was what we wanted.

Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Comfort Foods That Kept Us Going - Sugar Sandwiches

In the 1960s and 70s, when jam wasn’t available, children would often turn to sugar, in the form of sugar sandwiches. It was the meal that kept children happy and dentists busy. A sweet treat made with two slices of white bread. Every sandwich seemed to be made with white bread back then. They were cheerfully cheap and satisfied the sweet tooth of the nation.

The sugar sandwich delivered empty calories while giving an energy rush that stopped hunger in its tracks. Many adults who grew up in the 1960s and 1970s may still smile at the memory, although I doubt most wouldn’t dream of eating one today.

It was a snack designed for comfort and convenience.

And just like a jam sandwich, they were so easy to make. As a boy, even I could make them. I’d return home from school at lunchtime, hungry for a sandwich and with a plan in mind as to what I wanted.

“What are we having to eat?” I would ask my mother.

“There’s cheese, spam, some corned beef left …”

“Do we have any jam?” I asked, ignoring all the more nutritious options on offer.

“Jam? Not until I go to the shops.”

“No jam? I wouldn't mind a sugar sandwich. I can make it.” I said with hope.

“Sugar sandwich? I suppose so, but don’t blame me if you get a toothache.”

Wise advice often ignored.

Did You Know… Life in 1980s Britain: Council Housing in Transition: Tenants as Owners and the End of Affordable Housing

 

 

For much of the mid-to late 20th century, council housing was to become a cornerstone of British life. That all changed after the election of Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government in 1979. In 1980, they introduced a policy that would see one of the most significant housing reforms in modern British history. 

From the start, it was controversial. Council tenants were given the legal right to purchase the homes they were living in. The policy was called “Right to Buy”. And to encourage tenants to take part, they were often given a substantial discount to market price to do so. 

Traditionally, council housing was there to provide cheap, affordable housing to rent, not to buy. It was a policy grounded in affordability, and a recognition that a basic level of decent quality housing should not be left to the market to decide on the basis of what you could afford. That was about to change.

But first, how did we get there, and why?

The Post-War Council House Boom

After the Second World War, Britain needed new housing and lots of it. Housing stock that had been damaged and destroyed by the Luftwaffe needed to be replaced. There was also a need to replace the rundown, ageing, privately owned housing stock that was no longer fit for purpose.

Not for the first time, Britain had a housing crisis. The same call to build homes fit for heroes had gone out after the First World War. For the most part it failed to deliver. Britain’s housing stock for the masses was poor, but in 1945 a Labour government committed itself to building decent-quality, affordable housing to rent. 

They were called council houses.

From the end of the war, up to 1981, over five million council properties were built in Britain. By the start of the 1980s around 1 in 3 households lived in social homes. They provided secure, affordable homes, and for many, renting from the local council became the norm, something that was desirable. It offered stability, community, and a sense of belonging that stretched across generations.

But in the 1980s, that changed.

It was something that would reshape not only how people lived but also what they thought about homeownership, wealth, and society itself.

A Radical New Idea — The Right to Buy

In housing, there was a shift to the ideology that the market knows best. 

The Writer's Life: The Hospital Clock

 

One thing about getting older is that you spend more time at the local doctors surgery or, occasionally, a hospital visit. Even if you’re fit and healthy, you can end up needing a check-up now and then. And this is the second time this year I’ve found myself at a local hospital — nothing serious, but I still needed to go in for tests.

I have written before that writers tend to look at the world differently; everything is potentially a story. 

That was the case on this visit as well.

My appointment was for two thirty in the afternoon, the letter saying that I should allow for two hours. I arrived at the hospital with thirty minutes to spare and made my way to the department, only to be surprised that the reception was empty. The only person there was seated at the reception desk working away on a computer.

I thought, ‘Lucky me, no one is waiting; I should be in and out in no time.’ I handed in my letter to register that I had arrived. Unfortunately, I soon found out that I was not so lucky after all, as all appointments for that day were to be seen on the first floor.

“Go out this door, turn left and up the stairs. The door directly opposite is where you need to go.” Said the receptionist.

Life in 1960s/70s Britain: The Comfort Foods That Kept Us Going - Spam: The Meat That Refused to Disappear

 

Love it or hate it, Spam, canned pork and ham, has become one of Britain’s most recognisable foods. At least there was a time when it was recognisable. Today when Spam gets a mention, it is often more to do with spam emails or online scammers than food.

Introduced in the 1930s, it gained enormous popularity during rationing in wartime because it was readily and widely available. By the 1970s it remained a cupboard staple in many homes. That was certainly the case in my home. 

And it was cheap, around fifteen to twenty pence a can. 

Is it still popular? I must admit, I haven’t eaten it in years. In fact, I wondered if it was still available. You don’t hear spam mentioned much these days as a desirable meal or part of the weekly shop. And I don’t remember seeing it on the shelves at the supermarket.

So, I had to check. 

Of course, it is available, and it still comes in a tin can. An odd-shaped tin can. It was also a can that used to come with, if memory serves me, its own little key that you would use to wind the lid off (or maybe that was corned beef in a can?). That could be tricky if you got it wrong.

There was then the challenge of getting the meat out of the tin. Often, it didn’t move, and I would end up slapping the bottom of the tin. There was an art to getting it right that my mother seemed to know.

Now Available - The Wisdom of The Garden: Life lessons From Roots to Meaning

 

What can a garden teach us about life?

The Wisdom of the Garden offers a series of personal insights and reflections. Each chapter is a story from the author’s life, a memory of what was and what might be. It is not a how-to manual or about giving instructions but a book of our relationship with the garden.

Themes emerge, of patience and responsibility. The garden becomes a place where effort meets uncertainty and where the outcome can surprise. Along the way, the author learns that gardening shows lessons we often miss in today’s busy world.

Tales From The Simulation: Part Six - The Mandela Effect, James Bond, Moonraker and Dolly's Braces

 

I saved the best one for last.

Let’s recap.

What is simulation theory?

Philosopher Nick Bostrom proposed that advanced civilisations might one day create simulations that are no different from reality. If countless simulated worlds exist, statistically, we might inhabit one ourselves. And, if our universe were a vast computer simulation, any update, patch, or correction might leave a trace of what existed before behind.

This might explain something called the Mandela Effect.

What Is the Mandela Effect?

It describes a memory where large groups of people remember an event or detail from their life differently from how it actually happened and/or exists now. It has been explained as a form of false memory, but some believe that these shared memories hint at something stranger.

Furthermore, it might be evidence that reality itself has been changed.

Fiona Broome, a paranormal researcher called it the‘Mandela Effect’ after she discovered that many people, including herself, had incorrectly remembered Nelson Mandela dying in prison during the 1980s. In reality, Mandela was released in 1990 and became president of South Africa. He died in 2013. At least, that is what most people, including myself, remember. When I first read about the “Mandela Effect”, I assumed it was a false memory.

One possibility was that people were remembering the death of the famous anti-apartheid activist, Steve Biko. He was murdered in police custody in 1977, and his death was reported worldwide. The musician Peter Gabriel even wrote a song about it, which became a worldwide hit in 1980.

Since then, countless examples of the Mandela Effect have emerged, with many people insisting they remember details that simply don’t match reality.

The Writer's Life: Monday Morning Trivia - What's in a Word? Ageing or Aging?

 

Ageing or aging — that is the question.

Grammar — does it matter? 

The Writer's Life: Monday Morning Trivia - The Day I Became a Millionaire

 

In theory, and in fact, I was once a millionaire, just not in a way that was life-changing or meaningful. Let me tell you how I reached that status, because everyone can do it.

Many years ago, I collected coins and banknotes from around the world. Old and new ones. I was never a serious collector, but I did like the design, colour, and numbers on them. Some can even be valuable to a collector, but like stamp collecting, most are not worth much, if anything at all.

When I was a boy, I would find them at rummage sales. While they have long gone out of fashion, rummage sales were great places to find a bargain. Any old coins and banknotes I found would be tucked away in an old Quality Street tin box. I’d dream that one day in the future they might be worth more than the pennies I paid for them.

Tales From The Simulation: Part Five - There's Always the Sun

 

My latest encounter with the 'is the world a simulation' happened a few days ago. 

Like previous stories in this series, it was one of those coincidences where chance and randomness seem unlikely. The odds of it happening would be so high that most high street bookmakers would be happy to take a bet on it. For them, it would be money in the bank.

For me, it’s a good story, so here goes.

I had been writing about the summer of 1976, a time of record temperatures (until this year) in Britain. I was in search of a title, something that had a summer vibe to it. I started to think about songs about summer and the sun.

The Writer's Life: Is Imposter Syndrome and Procrastination Killing Your Creativity?

 

 

At some point in the writing journey, every writer knows the feeling.

You sit down with the intention of writing. The computer is on, the laptop open and waiting, and the ideas are somewhere in your mind. But instead of writing, you make another cup of tea or coffee. You check emails or scroll endlessly on social media. And there is always another YouTube video to watch.

Or maybe there is something else that needs attention. 

A little tidying up at home, or a visit to the shops. You decide that perhaps you’ll write tomorrow, when more inspired. But when tomorrow arrives, it looks remarkably like today, or the day before.

For many writers, procrastination is not always about laziness. It is about self-doubt and fear. A voice inside the mind that asks uncomfortable questions. Am I good enough? Has everything worth saying already been written? Who would want to read what I have to say?

And that voice has a name. Imposter syndrome, and it can fuel procrastination. For the last week or so, that has been the case for me. It started when I was reading through and editing a chapter from another project. I couldn’t get into it. What I read was a mishmash of words that were not coming together.

It felt easier to do something else.

Imposter syndrome affects writers of every level, from inexperienced to bestselling authors. It doesn’t matter where you are on the journey, because even writers who have had success find it still happens. The self-doubt and the fear of being “found out”.

Did You Know… Life in 1960s Britain: From Wembley 1966 to World Cup 2026 - How Football Went From Affordable Glory to Premium Prices

 

The 2026 FIFA World Cup is now well under way, and for those of us of a certain age, it’s hard not to think back to another summer that still holds a special place in British sporting history.

1966.

The year England last won the World Cup.

That was the year when commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme said the immortal words:

“Some people are on the pitch… they think it’s all over… it is now!” as Geoff Hurst hit the fourth goal that gave England victory over West Germany, 4–2.

And sixty years later, England opened their 2026 campaign with a 4–2 defeat of Croatia. The scoreline is a coincidence, but a reminder of 1966, as England try to end “sixty years of hurt”.

Time will tell.

But there is one very noticeable difference about the 2026 World Cup, compared to 1966. How much it now costs for fans to actually watch a game in person. 

2026 is the year when ordinary supporters attending the biggest football tournament on Earth might just need to take out a second mortgage to finance their desire to watch football. For the fans of the two teams that get to the final, following them all the way will cost a small fortune.

One big change in the game of football since the 1960s and 70s, is the impact of money on the sport, especially big tournaments like the World Cup.

It is now a commercial extravaganza.

The World Cup in 1966: The People’s Game — Football for Everyone

When England hosted the World Cup in 1966, football was still very much a working-class game. People would attend games in their working clothes. Some still wore a cloth cap, with a rosette pinned to their chest, a scarf around their neck, and a rattle in hand.

And to attend a game at the World Cup back then was cheap. Football fans today might be surprised as to how cheap it actually was.

As today, ticket prices varied depending on the match and seating area, but contemporary reports show that some supporters were able to buy tickets for as little as five shillings (25p in pre-decimal currency). Even the best seats for many World Cup games cost only a few pounds.

And yes, there were tickets for the actual final, priced at five shillings.

That may sound impossibly cheap today, and by comparison to 2026, it was!

Tales From The Simulation: Part Four - These Boots Are Made For Walking (Revisited)

I originally wrote the story below, in two parts, back in July 2023. 

At the time, a series of unlikely coincidences happened.

Here’s the story — part one.

About a month ago, I was out walking when a thought came to me that I really needed a new pair of walking boots. My old walking boots, more of a walking shoe really, had seen better days. The sole was beginning to show wear and tear, damaged from years of pounding the pavements and walking country paths.

I had put in the mileage on my footwear, and it was time for a new pair.

But I knew that a new pair of walking boots would not be cheap. A good quality walking boot, with a decent hard-wearing sole, is always likely to be expensive. The cheaper ones with softer tread on the sole never last that long. Over the years, I have had many, and they tend not to last. I must be a heavy walker. I certainly walk fast, which apparently is good for you but not so good for the boots.

The cheaper boots often look good, but as the saying goes, you get what you pay for, and I do like a bargain. Not so easy in these days with the rising cost of living. Mind you, I’ve always lived a fairly frugal life, and when it comes to footwear, I’ve usually managed to find a bargain — eventually. Typically, from a charity shop or a car boot sale (flea market in the USA), but I couldn’t rely on that happening this time.

Would my old walking boots endure until I found a bargain? The need for a new pair of boots was definitely on my mind.

And then something strange happened. Really strange.

A week or so later, I was on a trek to an appointment I had to keep. I had made the four-mile journey many times and could take several routes. In the end, I chose a route but then changed my mind when I was halfway there. A little further on I changed my mind again, deciding to take a scenic walk through open fields, finally reaching a road that I had not walked for many years.

It was there that I had my out-of-the-ordinary, strange experience.

I approached a bend in the road, and there on the grass verge was a pair of walking boots just lying there. They were about eight feet apart as if they had been thrown from a passing car. I picked them up expecting them to be worn down, tatty, old, and falling apart. That wasn’t the case. In fact, they seemed as good as new, just a little dusty. It was the kind of dust that boots pick up on a building site. They were in far better condition than the boots I was wearing.

I decided to take them with me. I would decide what to do with them after my appointment.

Meeting over, I walked home via a different route. On the way, I found a bench to sit on and decided to check out the boots. They were a good make, The North Face, and were in excellent condition. They didn’t even look as if they had been worn before. I put them on, not expecting them to fit, but remarkably, they were exactly my size. I walked the rest of the way home in them, about three miles.

They were the most comfortable walking boots that I had ever worn.

I later checked to find out how much they would have cost new. The price range for similar boots was around £100. I knew they were good quality, as the sole was of a harder tread. The type of boot that would last years.

It was as if they had been left in the road just for me.

As the saying goes, I had got lucky in my find, but perhaps it was something more.

Another coincidence that happened around that time was that I found a book in a local charity shop, titled The Secret, which had been very popular with those who believed in the idea of the law of attraction.

And then there was another coincidence.