Strange things afoot on the A25…

Whilst travelling along the A25 en route to Mogador, (that once fine hamlet, cruelly dissected by the M25, and home to my favourite tobacconist) I experienced a bout of temporal dislocation.
As everyone knows, these seem to occur mainly on those misty autumn mornings, when you are least expecting them.

However, on this occasion, I was helped along the way by this fine recording…certainly did the trick!

Due to the displacement, my tobacconist was still slumbering when I turned up.
Oh dear…

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