A travelogue of final resting places seeks to make readers confront their own mortality
The first night Jack Cooke slept in his hearse – stretched out on the wooden bench where a coffin would normally lie – he dreamed of his own funeral.
The 35-year-old had bought the second-hand body-carrier – all 18 foot and three tonnes of it – from an undertaker in Bristol. It was the ideal way, he believed, to embark on a road trip to discover Britain’s most unusual and forgotten tombs. “A hearse seemed like the perfect way to chase ghosts,” says Cooke.
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