The last post featured a Berkshire gastropub mercifully free of scatter cushions. No such relief in my final Berks tick, the eponymous Great Shefford, but oddly I’m a fan of clutter and chintz as long as there’s life. Anywhere selling dog ice cream for £3.50 is bound to have life, even if a rather different… Continue reading A RACE FOR THE PRIZE IN GREAT SHEFFORD