Lunchtime. Yesterday. Prêt à manger sandwiches to eat in. British heatwave hitting us. Picking a table for two near the window. Done with my “special of the day pesto chicken sandwich”, I start eating blueberries. Turning my head to the right, my eyes stop on this very familiar face. Glasses, white hair, fantastic smile. Oh my . . . → Read More: On meeting Ken Loach over a sandwich