Goodbye, Cheltenham
Leaving the Cotswolds Saturday morning, wedged into the back of a red Range Rover on the most roundabout way to Heathrow ever choreographed. Waze would not approve. Not that I notice, or care. Hat boxes, croissant wrappers, rolling bags, overcoats, dog-eared racecards, a betting slip or ten, empty ginger shot … Read More




