Smallman1 Worry ye not, Smallman, he can live in Cheshire.
"Cheshire’s wealth has created a kind of mythology that will not die. Wilmslow, at its Thatcherite, money-grubbing worst, introduced its own exclusive credit card. It didn’t last long, but the memory lingers strangely on.
Alderley Edge, home to an Arthurian legend and (during the season) to Mr and Mrs Beckham, found a bubble of fame when it was revealed as Britain’s champagne-guzzling capital. (Though this turned out to be due more to the cunning marketing of the local manager of Victoria Wines than collective up-market alcoholism.)
Prestbury pretends to be a genteel, half-timbered, pretty-pretty village but is stuffed with 4WDs, yellow lines, golfers and wide-mouthed daughters who have their weddings at Mottram Hall Hotel and get their pictures in Cheshire Life."
- not my words, the words of THE GUARDIAN MAGAZINE
