'A raw clove of garlic and a pint of Mac's please?!'

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We sit in a quirky café full of old radios, some as big as side-boards, drinking flat whites, long blacks and hot chocolates and spread the map out on the floor. Like in Mary Poppins, I want to jump into the map, but everyone's too busy pointing at different parts of the island they want to visit. Exhausted someone says 'enough!', the map is folded and we get into the car, too much planning, le... Read Full Entry

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