The Gorse Fox was awake surprisingly early (even for him). He pottered round until the hotel restaurant opened and settled down to huge bowl of porridge and raisins. This was real porridge – the sort that has the consistency of modelling clay, the sort that you could throw on a potters wheel and fashion your own cereal bowl. Perfect.
Work was a continuum of questions and answers, emails and responses, confusion and clarifications. It was important to clear the decks – GF has a couple of weeks
parole holiday and needed a degree of confidence that all would be well in his absence.
Finally, the day was done and GF was able to head out onto the Queen’s highways and set the controls for West Sussex. The holiday had started.