So I put one friend on the bus to Heathrow this morning, galloped home, galloped hellhounds, galloped into going-out-to-fancy-restaurant clothes, galloped to Mauncester to catch a train to London . . . first piece of major luck was an actual real-live parking space within galloping distance of the Mauncester train station, which even in a country full of tiny cranky medieval towns that have expanded into large sprawling modern cities with tiny cranky centres, stands out as an unusually...
Published on June 23, 2010 16:15