'Come
Bank Holiday and I'm off, I said to Beeching. It's goodbye to
the sweat and grime of your rotten old office, I'm for the open
road. (Well, I paid good money for this car, so I wanted people
to see me in it.) "You go by road if you want to, Hancock
lad," he says to me, "you'll find yourself in good company."
Ah well - you can't be right all the time. These exhaust fumes
taste lovely. Only thing that worries me is those chaps last year
who never reached the coast at all. . .' |