How we love roads.

On the road and along journeys you find stories, homes where time nestles longer, and evergreen tales that grow sweeter with age. The Prancing Pony in Bree was on the Road that goes ever on and on, and Tabard Inn too, where the twenty-nine pilgrims gathered around one medieval night. From the house of Beorn to the forest path through Sherwood, to Admiral Benbow Inn where Billy Bones walked in and we set sail on an unforgettable sea. Mos Eisley, where Han shot first, and Hog’s Head, where Hagrid won a card game with a man who never lowered his hood. Roads gravitate to crossroads and inns, where many paths and errands meet and part, and the journeys go on for ever and ever. Some take the high roads, and others walk the ones that want wear, but if you meet anyone who has been on the Road for some time, he will always have a story.

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