Fuck off Bognor - In the name of Thiago - Day 209
You may remember me a little earlier in the week alluding to my visit to the sunshine coast of glorious Sussex and how Eastbourne is the second sunniest place in the UK, second only to you guessed it, Bognor. In truth, unlike George V – if you believe what he’s meant to have said on his deathbed – I have nothing against the West Sussex resort. But it’s not a scratch on my home town – all conquering Eastbourne. Okay all conquering is a little bit of a stretch but I’m sure you’re getting a sense of my happiness at being home. We set off from reasonably sunny Newcastle-under-Lyme at bang on 8, which remarkably, was exactly as planned. We sailed down the M6 and breezed along the M40, before grinding to a halt on everyone’s least favourite car park: the M25. We stopped at the village of Berwick as this is where my brother’s workshop is. This place is more like an aircraft hangar than a workshop – it is absolutely fucking cavernous. It’s owned by the farmer that has the surrounding