The final couple of days.
Five hours before a break then two steak and ale pies from two establishments. I'm stuffed and ready for the last leg of Friday. I'm booked in the Notley Arms, Monksilver on a Friday... It's a pub and it's a Friday... I can see light at the end of the tunnel regards this insanity. Why did I bring the full camping ensemble when I haven't slept sunny side up since Cheddar. I've always good intentions, but they often fall into dust. Fantastic. One hundred degrees warmer than the desolation of The Old Cider House. In the Notley Arms I don't have to disappear into the Ancient Mariner or the George before coming back to sleep. It's Friday and the coast isn't too far distant so I chose Fish and Chips. Two Old Rosie Cider to wash it down. Now I'm au naturel supine on the single long bed in room number 7. The patrons didn't mind me eating the food on my lap or walking about barefoot. They said treat it like your home which is why I'm relaxing as n...