Tintin of Llanishen

Just our luck! The one time we manage to catch the culprits they turn out to be innocent! It's really too bad of them!

I wake in Totterdown, Bristol. It’s a half hour walk, across Victoria Park and a few waterways, to Castle Hill. This is my final day of coaching at the client. All is not well, but not every horse wants a drink.

After work, I check out of the AirBNB and catch the (delayed) 18:54 to Severn Tunnel Junction. Richard is waiting to whisk me to Chepstow (to collect Martha) and Llanishen (to feed me food and intoxicants).

George has rustled up a roast lamb feast, with only the gravy left for Richard to do. There’s even a crumble to follow. And, of course, red wine from Portugal.

Later, he shows me round the building project - the threshing tower is being converted into a 3-bed house. It will be quite impressive if the conversion of the courtyard cottage is anything to go by.

And now that we’re sufficiently lubricated, it’s time to talk books and sip some Sloe gin he made over 20 years ago.

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