ROD DUDLEY OurLocal Hero
“In fondo! In fondo, giù a sinistra…” I take the turning as instructed by the local Besozzo messo, who was conveniently directing the traffic at a junction near a derelict old warehouse, once a renowned cotton factory. I drive on in my small, lentil-orange Fiat 500 and head down a bumpy track full of deep pot-holes, and turn left, hanging onto my steering wheel as I bump along. I drive into a dead-end inside the factory, through an old rusty entrance, and see the word DUDLEY scribed onto the wall in rusty red paint. A driveway invites my 500 to drive up a high ramp, and I do the hill climb and pull up outside the top-floor entrance to Rod Dudley’s studio.
He stands on the balcony in dapper red shorts and invites me into his workshop, which is immense! I walk about in amazement and
