My short trip across the Atlantic was mainly for the purpose of a road trip down to the West Country to celebrate the wedding of one of my oldest and dearest friends Tom in Sunny Somerset. Despite British weather being notoriously unpredictable in April - the sun shone, the Somerset sand stone glowed
and they were led from the village church to their perfect garden party reception by a hairy suited fiddler.
Have you ever seen such a magic cake? And the blooming magnolia trees inside the marquee were glorious.
We sipped champagne to 'Stomping dave'
Laughed until we cried at the much-too-close-too-the-bone speeches
And slipped off in to the night to make the long trip back to Surrey before sunrise.