I had forgotten it was half term but soon realised when I tried to walk in a straight line down East Street last week without being knocked over by giggling teens.

I followed on behind a pack of lads wearing standard prison-issue droopy trousers which all wannabe gangstas have to wear to appear cool.

The boy in front of me had a vast stretch of purple pants roaming free above the cinched belt under his rear end. He was overcoming further slippage by walking with his knees pressed tightly together which gave him the look of an incontinent chimp as he swung his arms trying to gain momentum in order to walk.

The gang of girls coming towards them giggled and blushed, clearly finding something attractive about chimp-boy that I was unable to see. All the girls were wearing the ubiquitous Ugg boots, worn down at the heels, making them lurch unattractively as they scuffed and giggled along.

I don’t know why but I was reminded of two tribes of cave people meeting before a mammoth hunt.

But I should really have been looking where I was going rather than staring at teenagers, because I promptly fell over a tartan shopping trolley blocking the covered walkway while its owner was busy talking to a well-fed young gentleman on a moto-scooter.

There’s a moral here somewhere but I’m not sure whether to choose ‘Don’t forget you were young once’ or ‘Curiosity killed the cat’…