Have one of my closest friends visiting from California this week, whilst she’s on her travels around Europe.
Took her to Stone Henge, which is 20 mins drive from my house. Whilst there she got to experience what I call December-morning breeze-atop-hill.
I keep telling her it builds character, but then she starts singing the haunting native call of her California tribe. ‘It’s fucking freeeeeeeeeeeezing’ (I don’t have the dialect quite right yet).
We then stopped by a 700-year-old pub in the Mendips and had a night down in Brean, where we arrived in time for this:
The place I’m moving to is about ten metres behind the camera.
Love you loads,