We might as well call…

France & Vincent

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It had taken longer than I had thought to get to Bradbourne. It is odd, but that last hour of the journey north seems to take no time at all. I don’t mean it seems short… but that there is no time-to-destination. I am already ‘there’. So it had been a bit of a surprise how long it took driving the same road southwards instead. Rather than ‘waste what was left of the afternoon, therefore, we decided to take the main roads back.

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Now, by main road, I do not for one moment mean motorways… just a road with a single lane wide enough for traffic each way to pass in comfort. It still snakes through the hills and villages, passing the ancient barrows and mounds. And, critically at that point of the day, I happened to know there were one or two hostelries likely to be open for lunch…

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