The postman’s dilemma

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Abstract
When I was in sixth form and in my early days as a medical student I would, every Christmas, take a temporary job delivering letters and parcels. This entailed getting to the Chepstow sorting office by 7 a.m. to get the first van to the post office in a small village called Llantrissant. Here, the postmistress and assistant postmistress would ply me (the van continued on to Monmouth or Ulan Bator or somewhere) with tea and fruit cake until I was fit enough to do my round.