Back to Chester
This morning it rain, rain, rained, like wet stuff falling from the sky. We waited to elevenish when the rain was down to the soul-destroying drizzle that does so much to create the British sense of overwhelming pessimism, and set out back to Chester. The journey back though the weeds of the North Shropshire Union (which is of course in Cheshire, not Shropshire, if you are keeping track) was interrupted by another stop to remove weed from the prop, and…