Ah, the joys of the English spring. Or as Henry Rollins put it, the pissy,
pissy, pissy English rain.
I’m left alone with my sodden thoughts as I trudge the muddy path towards the nurses’ block,
with only the security fence for company.
It’s an impressive fence. But they skipped on costs a little and didn’t bother encasing the old nurses’
building, which can be seen ahead. Here, is the only place where you can touch Cane Hill, and feel its hard,
brick-like[1] exterior. Enjoy!
[1] Since it's made out of brick. Not surprisingly
See also: October 2002.
