We stopped off each night in many ancient oak-beamed Sussex pubs. Hence:

“When I’m in Heaven,

Tell me there’ll be friends to meet,

In ancient oak-beamed Sussex pubs,

Enfolded by the wanton Downs,

And summer evenings lapping lazily against the shore

Of sweet familar lands

Inhabited by silences or by nonsenses,

The things you cannot safely say in any other place,

I love those times.” (Adrian Plass.)

Ok, not so much of the summer evenings over the last few days, but definitely the rest…

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