I visited the town of Aldworth once.
It's a cracking spot. A beautiful wee English village where a few dozen little houses gather around the pub, whose doors open straight out on to the cricket field.
The pub is called The Bell and was built in 1340, shortly after Polynesian feet had first made their mark on the shores of New Zealand. If you're anything like average height, you'll have to duck under many of the door frames in The Bell Inn. Times have changed, people have grown - someplaces have stood beautifully still.
If you like a good pub, you'll love this one.
I told the woman running the bar I was an Aldworth - the laird returned to the manor, so to speak. They get a few travelling Aldworths drop into Aldworth, she told me, mostly from Canada. A couple of other drinkers wandered over to check me out. All friendly, mind you, nothing Deliverance-ish about it. Well, not much.