Thornbury. Suburb of mystery. A place to find yourself, lose yourself, and eat gallons of Greek biscuits.
Let the magic of Thornbury lead you down its cobbled lanes.
Past its gingerbread cottages.
To the architectural splendour of its Cold War era apartment complexes (cf. Prague, 1952, minus the weather).
Dine on fresh bulk pet meat daily. Yes, please.
Paint fences with cutting aphorisms.
Free the refugees, why don't you?
Ponder questions of scale.
Race tram 86.
The other thing you can do in Thornbury is put your mushrooms near the back of your new fridge so that they freeze, and then cook 'em a week later. Most mushroomy mushrooms you'll ever taste. Don't know why we haven't been freezing our mushrooms for years. Thank you, Thornbury.