For Eric the alien, and a lot of humans and felines besides, there is nothing at all more peaceful than to picnic at a cemetery, which is one of Stonehenge’s assumed reasons for existing. Being a cemetery, and then being a picnic spot. Also, it’s a great place to rest on your way to Avebury, infinity, and beyond, although I’ve heard that getting a park is difficult from time to time.
If you go, enjoy the greenery, the greyery, and the gruesome knowledge that human sacrifice was a thing even and especially thousands of years ago. Say hello to Eric for me.
Didn’t every kitten play cowboys and aliens and lemonade stands and baguettes with their siblings and neighbouring cats of all the lovely varieties under the Martian sun? I know I did.
So it was no surprise at all to find this gaggle of upstanding equines and not-terribly-wild westerners discussing the important thing in life: hats and their place in the synchronised scheme of things.
Also, tuna-flavoured lemonade – the next big thing at your nearest pretentious cafe – move over coconut butter latte frappe-cino with hundreds and thousands, your time is up.