It is a classic moment in all city breaks - the liminal space between hotel checkout and transport home. So too we find ourselves here. Today, its name is Tim Hortons.
Admittedly it’s mostly just the novelty of seeing a Tim Hortons but not being in Canada, which is I’m fairly certain the only time I’ve ever been to one. To find myself in one in Leicester six years later is, I mean, not actually disorientating, but still. When in Leicester, do as the Canadians do.
It’s not particularly an actively sought out experience. We are both very tired and just want to sit down until the coach back to Birmingham. I have a mediocre hot chocolate and am too full from breakfast to have anything to eat. Fine.
This doesn’t, I grant you, make for the most exciting entry on this not-quite-blog. I can’t particularly commend Tim Hortons onto you. But I’m not sure if that’s really why you’re here.
But hey, if you ever find yourself in Leicester the morning after the Leicester Mercury Comedian Of The Year final with your finalist boyfriend and need to have a coffee, there are worse places.