While I'm waiting for the bus outside Asda, a woman joins queue.
Tallish, almost middle-aged. But it is the hat you notice first - true Robin Hood style, feather included. When she turns, there is a swirl of the long purple cape, the lower edge frayed from dragging on the ground. A smallish stuffed silver dragon tries to crawl from her suitably medieval knapsack.
The trendy 18-year-olds peer and giggle.
She gets on the bus with me, pays her fare, and disembarks at Portswood.