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3:31pm Thursday 9th July 2009
WHAT a lovely place Braunton is. It is situated in North Devon and has a wide variety of shops and super restaurants that are a delight to frequent. Several independents among the well known names can be found too. In fact, we came across two family butchers, remember them?
Whilst purchasing some faggots I remarked what a delightful town Braunton was. I was swiftly corrected by a friendly upstanding elder statesman butcher, resplendent in his pristine apron and matching hat who had been listening to our counter badinage. “Braunton is a village my old son”, he smiled and after a heavy pause he added proudly, “its the largest village in England I’ll have you know.”
Good Lord! Why was this I enquired as I proffered my money to pay for his home made faggots. He explained that it was classed as a village as it had no Town Hall or Guildhall where a wide variety of community functions could be held for the benefit of all the people of Braunton. Later, as I tucked into the splendid Devon fayre and recounted our conversation it occurred to me that we here in little old Andover are practically in the same situation, and bearing in mind this status definition I think “Andover Village” sounds really quaint!
I say Mr. Editor, I wonder what our friend Mr Councillor, in his hard hat area, thinks about this. Perhaps he could ask his amico Signor Prezzo.
Come on Signor Prezzo, Facchino! Facchino! How much longer will the bruschetta be?— I’m hungry! Ho Fame! Buon appetito!, but when?
Or have you quietly wandered off into the beautiful Italian sunset?
John Porter Millway Road, Andover.
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