“What the hell is there to do in Colchester?” a friend of mine asked me with the king of all arched eyebrows. I had no answer to this question and actually it didn’t matter, because the sole purpose of my trip was not for the sights but to see my wonderful grandma, Nanny Powell. She’s my only living grandparent and I hadn’t seen her in years, so to Colchester I came armed with my suitcase, backpack and a rose plant gift picked up from M&S.
But catching up with my nan didn’t stop me from adding Colchester to the Leighton Literature archives. As for my friend’s question, the answer can be found in my travel reports on: