GF thinks this week will be metaphorically bloody. He is mentally girding his loins (though believes that lions may be more appropriate).
An early morning tootle up to Worcester will be the start of things. Then we have to try and avoid a Chichester Cathedral being turned into a '60s tower-block because people believe we're building the Vatican. (Or is it a case of a VW Passat being turned into a Lada because they think we're building a Rolls Royce).
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