One of the things about going to Monmouth by car, is that you have to come back again. We'd done that M4 thing on Saturday, so we decided to come back via the A40 and visit various towns on the way, while occasionally moaning about our respective hangovers and the fact that the hotel had chucked us out at 10am.

First, to Ross-on-Wye. It was notable for having a massive Hungarian restaurant and a lot of hotels which had long-since closed down. I suppose, before the Severn Bridge was built, that Ross-on-Wye was a major thoroughfare between Engand and Wales, but no longer. We passed a record shop called “RITZY”, which had a large display of records, and a piece of A4 in the window saying “Opening Soon”. The centrepiece of the display was a mono LP by the Big Ben Banjo Band. As our taxi driver had said to us the previous night, “time moves a lot slower around here.”

Neither Jenny nor I had ever been to the Forest Of Dean, so despite a rumour that EMF had come from the area, we went there anyway. It alternates between majestic views, thickly wooded hillsides, and then the shatttered town of Cinderford, home of Forest Of Dean Radio, broadcasting throughout the Forest Of Dean on 1521 and 1503 AM. A nasty town centre, seemingly erected in the early 80s from bits of other buildings, gave way to an unpleasant series of houses, one of them carrying three car number plates which had been nailed on the door, reading “JOHN MITCHELL'S DWELLING”. Bizarre. We sped on, towards the edge of the forest. Just before the River Severn we encountered the village of Littledean, which has recently won the Bledisloe Cup Competition for Best Kept Village. How nice, you might think. Well, indeed. But on exiting the village, we were astonished to see this sight looming up at us from a distance:

We didn't just reduce our speed, we turned back round and came to have a look. “Actually,” said Jenny, “that's a pretty dangerous thing to put on a hairpin bend.” I had to agree, although I was rather busy admiring the handiwork. “I'm surprised someone doesn't nick it,” I said. “What, and take her home, to spend hours pressing up against her unyielding fibreglass torso?” asked Jenny, who had a point. I took another picture, while Jenny looked on unappreciatively in the background. “You don't want someone to see you taking that picture,” she said, knowing that the truth would be revealed on the internet the next day in any case.

This impressive figurine was marking the entrance to Littledean Jail, which describes itself as “Much Much More Than Just A Jail!” which is a proud boast for any jail, isn't it. No, not just a jail, but a jail with an enormous fibreglass tart outside it. But seriously though, folks, this was a museum. “The UK's Most Infamous Black Museum”. It wasn't very busy. So we didn't go in.

We zipped through Gloucester, and into Cheltenham. I had never been to Cheltenham before. The most astonishing thing was the sheer amount of beautiful people. I felt like some kind of circus freak. Everyone who walks past, male and female, are bronzed, supple and extremely good looking, and there's barely anyone there who you wouldn't be prepared to commence a long-term relationship with. I'm surprised that the inhabitants don't walk around in a state of near permanent arousal. Anyway, we had some crap lunch from a shit pub. Oh, and if you want to go to a Masked Ball in Cheltenham on Saturday 5th November, there's one at the Town Hall, with 4 course dinner and entertainment for only £65, culminating in a “Parade Of Puppies”. Mmm, parade of puppies, yes please, oh actually, no, it's OK, but thanks anyway.

On to Oxford, where we met Justine and Richard, who gave us a whirlwind tour of the town centre, giving me the opportunity to take a photograph of a load of complete strangers in front of the Bridge Of Sighs.

On the way home the M40 was knackered, so we went across country, through Henley, cursed more people with significantly more wealth than us, and arrived home so tired that I inadvertently left a copy of Hall & Oates “Abandoned Luncheonette” in the CD player of the car. Let this whole entry be a lesson to you all.