Saturday, April 19, 2008
"Yowright?" asks the smiling newsagent as she packs up the papers for the evening. Five o'clock, the rain is tumbling from leaden skies and this city's shops are shutting down for the evening. Assorted groups of JJB-clad youths shuffle off home, or go and hang around in the dry beneath the concrete ring road. This city centre is encircled by tarmac, forced through medieval streets with no thought to the consequences. Here the car is king, and rightly so. The award-winning transport museum tells the local four-wheeled success story, now all but faded away. And tells it well. My mystery day trip over, I'm now heading home on a warm dry Pendolino. And where was I? Ha, it's been written at the very bottom of the page all along!
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