Spring seems to be settling in and that’s great, but I have been recently reminded of one of its worst bits: not hay fever or wrong coat season, but the absolute indignity of alfresco eating. I usually avoid eating outside; it’s fraught with dangers, from the stress position that is “sitting on picnic blanket” to seagull attack. I wanted to emulate metropolitan sophisticates by paying £12 for elite rabbit food; I wanted improbable amounts of protein and fancy dressing; I wanted vitamin D. You don’t get that in York. I found a salad bar, queued for ages, made panicky, poor choices and exited with a mountain of expensive roughage. Neither my trousers nor my springtime joie de vivre survived this experiment, so learn from my mistakes: enjoy a nice seasonal salad outside by all means, but first locate a table.

Source: The Guardian March 23, 2026 15:34 UTC