
Last time in Chester I was less than effusive about the walls, prompting stout defence from locals and sons of the county.
I’m happy to apologise to them now.
After leaving the Rows,

we did the full tourist circuit for the first time in years,






Chester was heaving on the Sunday before the Bank Holiday. Sadly, there was some terrible Coldplay covers being performed at the top of Northgate, and we had to scuttle on.

We briefly considered a cheap tea at hypha,

No tea found by foragers, thank you, Mrs RM was determined to produce our own “grazing board” from the Sainsbury’s on the cheap.
In the end, I think it cost about £12 to nibble olive and bread sticks in a campervan next to a Covid centre, but you live and learn.
That may be the most pretentious menu I’ve ever seen. Wow.
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You get 2.5 hours and you have to eat as much foraged dirt as you can and then you win a T-shirt. Man v Food.
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Dry Aged Beetroot.
Right…
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I was worried that the apology was going to be for a BRAPA-esque moment of misfortune.
Things could have been worse, it might have been Coldplay.
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