When I was presented with a copy of the local newspaper on my final day of a crazy week in North Devon (proof I'd be accepted as 1% local), I read the headline as "I'll run from the woman who saved my life". It was symptomatic of the mentally toughest weeks in BRAPA history. It was bad enough physically, but because pub ticks were so few and far between due to a paucity of public transport, no kindly chauffeur or a reliable taxi service, I was forced to work so hard for so r