Corsham, like most other smallish Wiltshire towns in the early to mid-1980s, offered precious little for the trencherman tourist. There was The Dolphin, next to the town hall on the high street, which did decent fish and chips. And Jaipur, over the road and a few doors down, for curry. Not that we ever tried so much as a poppadom, the food of the Indian subcontinent – albeit with a markedly British accent – not being part of our daily bread. You could get a curling sandwich at The Methuen Arms, alongside a pickled egg, and there were always fine
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