Have you ever had one of those cards from the Post Office saying you have a letter waiting at the main office that they can’t deliver because the correct postage hasn’t been paid?

I got one this week.

There was 11p to pay on the postage plus a £1 handling charge.

And I had to go to Holmfirth to collect it, which meant I would incur a charge for parking.

Did I want to be bothered?

This has happened in the past and I have trotted along, paid out money, and opened up an envelope trying to sell me a timeshare in Benidorm.

The letter could be anything. Maybe it was from Sylvester Stallone wanting to buy the film rights to my latest book.

Or a company offering me a pay day loan.

Or a bill for services I had forgotten.

“Oh yes. We mended the gutter while you were out. You can’t see the join, that’s why you never noticed.

That will be £210 40p, please, guv.”

I tried to remember if I was expecting a letter but you never are, are you?

They just arrive and, while the majority go straight in the bin as junk mail, there is always the odd one that is a pleasant surprise. Was it someone who had got my birthday wrong?

What if I had won the Lottery?

The point is, once you have been notified there is a letter waiting, there is a compulsion to discover what it is.

You can’t ignore it.

So off I went and stood in a long line of people waiting to pay extra postage or costs on letters and parcels that were languishing on the other side of the counter, like lost puppies waiting for their owners to collect them. I paid, took the envelope back to the car and tore it open.

It was not from Sylvestre Stallone and I had not won the Lottery.

But it was a pleasant surprise. It was from my old chum Dave Green, former landlord of The Slubbers Arms, and now a pub historian.

He had followed the recent columns about the turnpike built over the tops by Blind Jack of Knaresborough and had sent me a copy of a map that showed the three turnpikes that had been built in the 18thand 19thcenturies.

It was thoughtfully marked with the pubs of the day between Marsden and Delph: The George, Moorcock Inn, Shepherd’s Rest, Coach and Horses, Great Western, Floating Light, Globe Inn, Horse and Jockey.

Blind Jack’s favoured drinking place was Alexander’s at Holt Head, he said.

It really was a pleasant surprise, Dave, and thanks for sending it. But next time we meet, you owe me a pint.