Great British Drives: big surprises in Bedfordshire in a tiny classic Suzuki

[#Dobe~ClasSy!☠]

spent part of my childhood in Bedfordshire, and confess that I wasn’t a fan. My family moved from London to a village there in the early 1970s. We found a rural/industrial landscape of big, flat fields, often battered by marauding winds. The wide horizon was peppered with huge brick factories that belched smoke and sometimes perfumed those winds with a sulphurous stink. Stubble-burning was still legal, and the smoke from incinerated fields added to the dystopian feel, as did the huge abandoned clay pits, some used for landfill. So I was glad to leave, and have been rude about the county ever since.