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Travel Blogs from Market Harborough
The rest of the day in the tent was given over to Urban music. Neither Julie nor I have any interest in the genre so we finally had an excuse to stagger, blinking, out into the sunlight. And it really was still sunny.
Funeral for a Friend were performing on the main stage. I’d been vaguely interested in seeing them but we had been dancing for the best part of 5 hours with only cider for fuel so we opted for a look at the food stalls and both ended ...
... natural archer and her success in front of a crowd snapped her out of Moodyville - for the time being anyway. Next stop was Nuneaton where we managed to catch up with my family. It was ( as always) like slipping into comfortable shoes and as if I never left. With the exception of the next generation tearing around Uncle Martin and Aunt Laura's garden and dear Uncle Dave's absence, everything was just as ...
... it was suddenly borderline whether she would need it or not. Our first priority was to get some ciders from the beer tent, after which we walked down to the main stage where Stone Foundation were finishing off their set. They sounded pretty good and we were sorry that the combination of weather and delayed trains had prevented us from seeing more.
Next up was The Selecter, a band that I had enjoyed a lot during the 2-tone Revival era in the very ...
... in the middle ages somebody (who hadn't ever watched Masterchef) prepared a feast for some religious celebration and nobody ate anything - thus "none eaten". As I rode along I always stop to take a photo if I see something interesting. First up today was the gardens in the middle of Nuneaton, beautifully prepared with flowers blooming. I also spotted a cool fountain in the middle of a roundabout. Heading back towards Hinckley I came across the Triumph motorcycle ...
... all of our luggage and we proceeded to the door. And we couldn't get out! We stuck our heads outside, and yelled to the train woman, "We can't get out!" She hollered back (cue: English accent), "Well you can't get off now, you've already had 3 minutes!" "But we HAVE to get off!" All this commotion, panicked looks, and did the other First Class passengers bother to help us out? Noooo! Why didn't the train people open the door for us? You call this First ...
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