Egg on Face…

A charming reporter from the National Geographic phoned me this evening. She wanted to do a piece on Stonehenge and the new visitor centre for their travel supplement. Suitably flattered I said something gracious and then started to answer her questions. Question 1:

‘Recently I was at the new Stonehenge visitor centre shop, where I bought a copy of your wonderful book Britain BC. So of course I thought you’d be just the person to answer a few questions…’

And then the questions followed, which I responded to as only I can. Simper, simper. Except that…

Except that, I recalled saying in my last blog post that:

“One consequence of the general ‘dumbing-down’ that is such a sad feature of so much modern marketing is that one rarely comes across anything interesting to read in an English Heritage or National Trust bookshop. Site guidebooks aside, it’s just the same old predictable, lavishly illustrated, if largely plagiarised, pap ground out by the usual celebrity suspects. Yawn, yawn. So I tend to spend my money on ice creams, which can sometimes be locally made and invariably stimulate my imagination far more than the books on offer.”  OUCH! Sorry English Heritage. Grovel, grovel…

Or was I right?

Oh God, now I’m assailed by horrible doubts….

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