Yesterday, we went to Narberth. Some of the shops were so full Peter decided to wait outside, though the wind was keen.

I should have, too,because mostof the shops were so full, I had difficulty coming outagain.

'The Maltings' is one of my favourite shops, selling vintage and antique nick nackery. It is composed of small shop units, belonging to different people anddisplaying jewellery, vintage clothes, hatpins, furs, evening dresses, quilts, sheets, embroidered table cloths, cutlery, china,chests, chairs, kilims, brass, copper, Sir Kyffin Williams paintings and all manner of lovelyluxuries. Imaginea souk,stuffed witheye-popping treasures.

I'vebought pink-silk undies from the 1940's, cotton sheets trimmed with crochet, pillowslips, silver tea-knives,Melyn Tregwynt blankets (one in shades of blue, the other in purple) and I've got my eyes out for a red one.

'The Maltings' was full when I went in, so I dived into one of the little shops that was empty. Immediately,a family of four adultsfollowed me, so I decided to exit immediately, by turning sharp right and squeezing past somehandbags, which I swear I just glanced at quickly without stopping as I went by. Know what? They followed in my path and stopped to look at the handbags. (There were three other corners in the room, after all).

I've noticed a pattern (Idigress) but, if I stop to look in a shop window, other people crowd around me.

Anyone needing to give their business a boost can hire me to stand outside and peer interestedly at the goods in the window. That should shift a few hundred pounds worth of stuffin no time.

In another shop, my gaze alighted on some Christmas cards as I walked in. I did not stop, but two customers,on their way out and noticing what i was looking at, fell on them, saying: 'Those are lovely cards, yes, those are lovely cards'.(Theyreminded me of characetrs in a Pinter play: 'Do you like the cornflakes, Stanley', or something similar). 'Adjectivally challenged' went through my mind.

In Narberth, wheneverI looked at anything, someone immediately pushed in front of me

I'm not a particularly private person, but I don't like people crowdingme. I've developed a method: if I like something andpeople peer over my shoulder, I walk away. When they've gone, I take a closer look.

Every shop we went into was packed. Yes, Narberth, or 'Porth-ac-Arberth as it was called in the Mabinogion and home of Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed, is a boutique town, each shop a miniature gem.

This set us thinking: what makes a successful town? Why is Fishguard, visuallya jewel, emptyon a Saturday afternoon and Narberth full?

We've decideda successful High Street must havefabulous shops, offering something different and the shops must be close together. (Shoppers save their energy for walking around shops, not to shops). Good parking is another requirement.

So, Narberth hasfour or morepubs on the main street,a newsagents, a bridal shop,a stylish 'ladies fashion' shop, a 'bargain box',a Spanish cafe, a bakery, a hairstylist,a cosmetic salon,a more general fashion shop, threeart galleries,three shoe shops, a surf shop, three grocery shops, a florist, a wonderful 'gallery' with handbags, jewellery, cards toys, bags hats, books.

I'll stop or I'll make it sound like a huge place,which it isn't but it's success should be studied. I heard a shopper say: 'This place is in the middle of nowhere, but look what it's got!'

They'd come from Cardiff for the day, eighty milesaway, to shop in Narberth.

In times like this, someone should write a thesis on it.