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Because it's the end of August (at the hotel Ozone) and because I've just drunk half a bottle of wine and because I'm reading The Old Ways and because kate nepveau just posted about being in Ireland, mind says 'Forget Tokyo, forget fall colours, let's go back to Great Britain, let's see the chessmen at the brit.mus again, let's see
incandescens in situ, let's go to Dublin once before you die, let's get a little closer to Stonehenge than you ever did before.' I'm morally convinced this means 'let's revisit the 70s' and I'm fairly certain that's not possible; but just at the moment it looks sooo tempting...

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I need to get to Dublin before I die, too... and see
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I've never been to Richmond, but a quick Wiki check shows that it's gorgeous and Maps that it's only an hour up the A1, so perhaps I shall have a ride out some time. I do hope it didn't rain on you, as the Dales are wont to do.
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It didn't rain at all. There was a record-breaking heatwave that year, and when we were dehydrated after tromping about and asked for a glass of water at the gatekeeper's cottage, the woman of the house took pity on us and gave us big glasses of lemon shrub.
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