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Went to York to show Murry and his family around. Him and Tracy came to the Month in the Country showing I produced at the Everyman, Hampstead, 5 years ago. They had come on a romantic trip back to where they did their courting; and I gave him my only copy of the DVD as a spot prize (a DVD now selling for £40 on ebay).

I broke at Leeds on the way there to pick up train tickets from a machine (Bradford does not have any, Bangor does, so does Bognor, and probably Bradfrod-on-Avon). For the first time in 2 years the machine demanded my transaction code. So I now have to pay to go to Leeds to pick up the tickets. I then discovered I had lost my ticket to York. I did find it on the floor.

The rest of the day was all good.

Took the four of them (inc. lads Sandy and Ewen) on an almost random sinckleways tour. Highlights included meeting Norwegians dressed as Vikings outside the Merchant Taylors Hall, and being shown round with them. Murry works at the Guildhall in London and has family connections to that Merchant Taylors company, and he had tried to get in twice before, so he was happy as a monastery that had seen a viking ship, and watched it sail by.

Had lunch in the Black Swan. Universal praise. My pigeon pie was a wonder.

After I went to the Kings Arms, and the sweet landlady Helen, from the Boltmakers in Keighley, recognised me. Her and her man had been to a funeral of a 38 year old regular, who died of liver failier. I ended up having beer with them in the Stone Rose and the Hansom Cab.

On the train home I sat on an empty seat on aisle paired tables. It was full of squadies. The eldest looking looked to be 20. The loud, sweary one looked 15. There was a South African, who had been back-squaded, who did not look any older. They all agreed that they wanted to go to Afghanistan. Before I got off at leeds the sweary one said he reckoned I was a policeman.
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