I survived Nottingham, which has a lovely castle by the way. No drive by shooting—they've had, like, five murders there in the last year, which is a record for England or something.
Sherwood Forest was lovely, lots of big and gnarly oaks. I'm talking HUGE. Major oaks, in fact. We did catch a glimpse of Robin H. and Marion; they appear to be pensioners now. The M1, Britain's oldest motorway, is safe now I'm home, so carry on.
But I'm slightly inebriated after two G&Ts and I don't feel like blogging. I always liked Charles Kennedy, I must say. Too bad it looks like he's on the way out.
