Last Saturday I drove Moe on our latest jaunt, this time over the old Severn Bridge to Chepstow - a journey that took, maybe, 25 minutes from my front door. I'm ashamed to say that I'd never been to Chepstow before. (I suppose the recently abolished toll was more offputting than I'd thought.) Although it was a lowering sort of day, that is of course entirely appropriate when looking at instruments of Norman oppression of the Welsh.
(Afterwards we went further up the Wye to look at books in Hay, but of that I have no photographs. Besides, I've been to Hay many times. Fun fact: Hay is the last place I ever used a public urinal! Will there be a plaque one day?)
Yesterday it was Bath - last visited a couple of years ago, maybe? despite being only 12 minutes from Bristol by train... Of course it's a lovely city, and a World Heritage Site and all, but somehow life doesn't take me there very often. This time, however I had lunch with a friend at Comins Tea House - my first time. Reader, if you like tea and you are in Bath, you have to go there. I will say no more than that. (Except that they also have a branch in Sturminster, apparently, so go there if it's more convenient; but go.)