Visit The Retired Martin site
In the summer of 1988 I walked the 7.1 miles from Milton to Barton to meet my then girlfriend (NGSS x)at the end of her bar shift. I’d just failed my driving test for a fifth time, all the fault of over-zealous no entry signage in Cambridge, and only a fool uses taxis. Not even… Continue reading BARTON GOES THROUGH THE*HOOPS
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