There are many reasons to avoid Ipswich —its stale history has given it a reputation for being a rural, cultural backwater. Still, I found myself driving there on a Sunday afternoon in search of an end to the dreary boredom, chasing anything to avoid the twin evils of bed rot and brain rot, mostly brought on by social media. Sundays are nothing days, we lie in bed -or on couches staring at the ceiling- stomaching the prospect of another week's servitude, feigning bliss in stagnation, as we benignly savour our free time by remaining as comatose as possible.