in north somerset.
the location of wilkins cider farm initially scared the american in me because something that out of the way, usually leads to no good here in the states. it usually involves sadistic rednecks who don't just kill you but keep you in their hovels of horror. but i digress.
where was i?
oh, yes. wilkins cider farm. how i wish i could pop down for some fresh cider (sweet was my personal fav) and a pound or so of that awesomely sharp farm made fresh cheddar whilst watching the geese and cows.
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