My name is Bromley Cobbler and I'm a Pokemon Go Player.

I'm not ashamed. Why should I be? I like progressive rock music, League Two football, mediaeval history and science fiction. I'm used to being looked at strangely.

Picture this: I'm 62 years old and up to me knee-caps in mud and horse poo in a little used track between parks in Bromley in -5 degrees last February. Several travellers, who used to be called gypsies by an unfeeling world, look on. My companion-in-arms today is Ash, who's wearing a suit, which is similarly splattered with track detritus. He has that sparkle in his eye, probably because he's not 62. We have 7 minutes to get to a 100% Ditto, which is hiding behind a pub about a mile away. It seems impossible. Ash starts running. Nothing is impossible when there's a 100% so tantalisingly close. Oh, and my game name is 'Bromley Cobbler' for the simple reason that I live in Bromley and support Northampton Town Football Club. It's nothing to do with shoes!

Pokemon Go is a great game. OK, OK, it started out as kid's game. I understand that. But so what? It certainly isn't for kids now. Honestly. The majority of the people tramping the streets playing the game are adults. Yes, adults. Real adults - adults who have a job and families and kids of their own. One of our group is a barrister, another an accountant, several are into insurance, one is a professional actor/dancer who is appearing in a reality programme on the telly this very week (True Love, True Lies) and another is a bus driver. A fantastic cross section of the community. And a likeable bunch too. Really.

We hunt down these strange creatures which pop up on our phones in snow, rain, wind or searing hot sun. Nothing stops us trying to bag that 100% MewTwo, Rayquaza or Kyogre. We will walk to the ends of the earth (well, Bromley) to stand a 3% chance of catching a rare one. We raid, we battle, we trade, we trawl, we grind, we use our 'Gotchas'... some might see it as an addiction. But hey, who cares? It's fun and a barrel of laughs.

I initially got into it because of a talk I had been asked to give on postmodernist marketing. I delved into all the daft facets of this odd way of selling things and came up against something called hyper-reality. This is where the unreal world somehow interacts with the real. For example, go and watch the film: 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit?", 'Mary Poppins', visit Disneyland or go to Las Vegas. Get the picture. The unreal encroaching onto the real.

Then I read an article on the ground-breaking game, Pokemon Go, which combines the GPS systems of your mobile phone with the game dynamic. The bottom fell out of my marketing world. This must have been what Einstein felt like when he chalked E=MC squared for the first time, or when Starbuck's realised there was big money to be made from making coffee in paper cups.

And so it began. I've nearly fallen into a lake in a pitch black golf course, while chasing a Lovedisc; I've had to climb a gate to get into a builder's yard to bag a Snorlax; I've been chased by loads of dogs; I've watched three muggings take place near me - fortunately that didn't stop me bagging a 98% Suicune and a 100%Raicou. No fear. A mere mugging won't stop a Level 40 player bagging his 'mon' in an important raid! I've been stopped and questioned by two policemen, while raiding a Pokemon gym near a children's play park - dodgy moment that. For one moment, I saw my name popping up on several embarrassing registers. I've even been told to 'eff-off' because I'm in Team Instinct!

And now, when I give my talks on postmodern marketing, I wax lyrical about this game. It seems such a great marketing tool too in so many ways and could be a foretaste of the future of advertising. To be able to use individual GPS's to get a message across is quite frankly, mind-boggling.

Incidentally, we missed the Ditto last February by 90 seconds. It was a cruel moment. So, we staggered into the Harvester pub nearby to have a pint, clean the muck off our clothes and... get back into Bromley for the next raid.