This pretty village of “Old” Alresford is where the opening scenes might plausibly have been set in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, on the infamous occasion of the beaurocratic and heartless Demolition of the Planet to make way for the hyperspace bypass.
Might have, I say, but were not. This was because of the Paraverse Holo in which Alresford and its environs continue to float in Tranquil Stability force-fields, thanks to the zealous efforts of the Sapient Pigeons, whose keen eye for a quick buck is the talk of the Western Spiral Arm virtual business community.
The Goodly Pigeons’ technical grip on the transcendental reality equations prevailing hereabouts preordained that this little local continuum remain untouched.
“For all eternity”, exactly as it says in the brochure.
The curiosity of visitors on foot like myself is sparked by the too, too obvious discontiguity between the near feudal bucolic population remnants in this “Hampshire” village; the curious depth of quiescent somnolescence exhibited by the oh-so-pretty waterfowl; and the incomprehensibly uncontrived, open-ended bonhomie of such folk as the sausage and tomato sauce sandwich dispensing staff at the Caff in West Street.
These last, and all their kith, live in perfect ignorance of, and side by side with the overlord holiday lets of the supermegarich retired Alien Galactic Orchestrators.
The Orchestrators were sold on the charms of this aboriginal “Hampshire” reservation. By and large, most migrated here from Hoag’s Object in Serpens constellation in our C15th and C16th.
Naturally, there has been a great deal of nesting activity with the indigenous populace over a period of time…