23 Aug

Though grey, it had been hot and sticky for several days.  Finally free from the shackles of ever expanding spreadsheets, we headed away from the coast to visit old friends.  

I had been carefully watching the swell charts all week, painfully teasing myself with the possibilities of a clean, green face to slide across, and now, as we meandered through the Hereford countryside the reality hit me that I was going to have to find a different liquid to soothe my aches.

In true West country fashion, I found consolation in the sweet amber nectar.  Several sticky pints later, I was dancing under canvas, all thoughts of sea and surf swallowed alongside the finest local cider.

The aches I nursed on Sunday morning were now firmly between my temples.


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