A suitably cinematic sunset is casting its final rays over Lancaster as I finally set foot in The Pub (despite the best efforts of Friday night M6 traffic and Lancaster’s circuitous one-way system).  The only things that could have made it even more appropriate would have been a pair of swinging saloon doors, a spittoon by the bar, a table of disreputable poker players and a dodgy honky-tonk piano player, for an evening spent in the company of the Gypsy Pistoleros.

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