I was in Paris recently, striding down the Boulevard St Germain, when I noticed an elderly gent tottering out of the “Café de Flore”, renowned hang-out of artist types at some point or other. And he really was tottering, I don't know why, whether it was his age or his habits, possibly both. He was making for a tree in the pavement and was carrying a charcoal sketch and a can of fixative with the obvious aim of spraying his creation in one of the few places where people weren't. I was keen to surreptitiously scrutinize his artwork so I deviated slightly from my path and swept by close to the delicate operation. I don't know whether the gentleman had his nozzle on incorrectly but my left trouser leg received a powerful blast of fixative the consequence of which was a stiffness about the knee. I'm not convinced this was completely the result of accident.
