GGSA2019 / Burford

It's that time of year again when I meet up with my top university chums for a weekend somewhere pleasant and we commit a gentle but sustained attack on our gang's spirit organ, the liver. 

This year, we have decided to meet up in Burford. I know this area a bit, actually; my first wife's dad, of whom I was* very fond, was the headmaster at Kingham Hill School, so we spent a bit of time around here, escaping London at weekends when we were courting. 

This afternoon, I met up with Ian ("E"), Bob, and Ash at around half-three. They'd been there for a couple hours already as I'd set off later and also had to stop on the way down for a meeting. Anyway, that meant that what little ice there might have been was nicely broken and everyone was relaxed and chatty.

I like Burford; it's like a sunnier version of Kirkby Lonsdale, hewn from the lovely local stone, whose shades of amber bring the town a sunnier air than  Kirkby's cold, grey material. (Demographically, though, it's a lot more posh and I was less keen on that aspect.)

In the evening, we went for a meal at the Lamb Inn, which was, on the one hand, fairly pricy, but, on the other, delicious. And the building was lovely, too. My only grumble was the presence of one of those waiters who insist on topping up your wine every five minutes. Does anybody actually like that?

*He's still alive and charming. I bump into him every few years.

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-10.2 kgs
Reading: 'Are We Still Rolling?' by Phill Brown