West Yorkshire
This is just kick-starting a thread that I hope I will take with me on my relocation.
Currently unsure of how and where and when I'll be able to upload photos when I move. I won't be able to afford a PC or internet connection - at least not initially - and I'm using the shared family camera at present, since Dad lost mine and broke his.
I can't ask for a replacement as they've just paid out one months rent and another month as deposit!
Anyway.
Here are some shots while I still can :)
These are all taken in Bradford; I'll be moving to Otley. I'll Google Map you a ref at some point. Otley is a market town rather than a city.
- My hotel when I was on my reconnaissance mission.
It was probably only a mile from the coach station, but the night I arrived, alone, lonely, sad, it felt like I was walking for many more.
- View from walk up to hotel and then view from window.
Electricity a go-go.
BZZZZZZZZZZ (don't tase me bro)
See how Bradford is laid out on hills?
Stack upon stack of it.
It's quite arresting, and beautiful in the sunlight.
The hotel again, from a distance, showing the hill behind it.
And a different shot to show how the levels change in a very short distance.
Well I showed you the Rotunda in Glasgow, and mentioned we could have our secret Cellar base in the similar structure across the river. But I bet we could get a building in Bradford even cheaperer...
My resident expert (not Dana, although she knows this city) said that the reason the tide of conversion ebbed away from Bradford was that many of the industrial buildings were used for sorting wool. Over the years the lanolin seeped into the woodwork and left them highly flammable. He says they can go up like candles. Not ideal "loft-conversion" living.
I like a bit of decaying grandeur, me.
I doubt many other people would connect Bradford, Havana and the Coliseum, but I'm probably the only person on here to have seen all three with my own eyes, so you can't disagree with me ;)
Couple of examples.
What's not to like about a Spicy Corner?
(Okay, I didn't eat there)
Pikey funfair.
It's the fair of evil...
Fear, sorry.
when I come over you can use my iphone to take some pics (that bit of the phone is ok, it's just the rest that's been shattered to crazy paving!)
How come everywhere you go, it's interesting and beautiful?
You keep on keepin' on, Sundae. I think this is going to be a great thing for you. :)
Flammable or not those buildings have great bones.
How come everywhere you go, it's interesting and beautiful?
That is such a kind comment, I've been thinking about it all day.
And yes, Griff, there is much to love about industrial architecture.
My friend Peter agreed to drive me to Otley.
I'd been fooled by the fact that it's often referred to as Otley, Leeds, and by the LS postcode into thinking it was closer to Leeds than it was. I knew I could travel Bradford to Leeds easily, and thought it would be a hop and a skip from there. No. It's on it's own little commuter route, and the best I could have done was get two buses. I had the time, but it was much more pleasant to catch up with an old friend and be chauffeured there. After my stress-stress-stress about what time the buses stopped running (two hour group interview starting at 17.00) he even said he would wait around and give me a lift back, which he did. If I'm lucky in anything it's in the amazing people who come into my life.
I didn't see much of the town, but
this (Guardian article) will give you a little flavour.
Also check out this postcode for my new flat (second floor, number 51) on Google maps if you're interested: LS21 1AG
This was the ad on Gumtree, not sure if it will still be up.
The supermarket is larger than my branch, with longer counters and more lines - yes, sadly I could spot exactly what we didn't stock and they did! And the café is three times the size. I won't have time to miss my old store, that's for sure.
As mentioned previously, I had booked to see the flat above on Wednesday morning, but was offered an interview for a rival supermarket at approx the same time. I figured that the job was more important, so I went for the interview. Their place (in fact their HQ) was high on a hill and the area around it was a little run down. I got talking to a contractor while we waited for the shuttle bus which took me halfway back to the city centre. He said I was better off doing that than going out of the gates and getting public transport all the way back; it was a rough area. Now personally it didn't look bad enough for me to worry about waiting for a bus at 11.30 in bright sunlight, but it was interesting to hear.
The job on offer was one I was wary of too.
Kitchen work has always scared me slightly with its relentless pace. I can't even
watch Hell's Kitchen. In fact the only team I remember watching and enjoying (in one of its incarnations, it may have changed since) were from an A&E department. Pressure? Ha! No-one's dying here tonight, what is this thing you think is pressure?
So anyway, second outing in my little blue and white dress (the one I travelled in when I went to Arran). Very blowy day, so as soon as I got back into Bradford I changed into my only other outfit of trousers and top in a McDonalds toilet. I'd hauled my jacket all the way up there (because Mum equates The North with the Arctic Circle) and never wore it, getting by with the addition of a woolly hat and a scarf when I felt chilly.
I was a picture in shades of lilac/ burgundy/ pink.
I didn't think about how matchy-matchy I was until my journey was well underway. Ah well, the fashion police failed to stop me in the street at least.
I had a wander while waiting for Dana.
Street artist had just started his dog sculpture. It's very basic at this point, when I passed him later it was more realistic and detailed. I guess you start off simple in order to get money while you're working. If no-one can tell what it is for the first two hours you're not going to get anything!
We looked for him later on, but I couldn't remember where he was in the warren of steep streets and cobbled alleyways.
I met Dana.
And she was on time!
In fact I think she was early, as she was finishing a coffee when we met, so had had enough time to buy one and let it cool down.
:)
We walked a very short distance to an all you can eat buffet.
I'd just walked past it on the way to the Interchange (buses, coaches and trains arrive and leave from there) and it seemed serendipitous. Especially as Dani is not allowed to have starters.
The food was really very good.
I looked askance at the empty dim sum area, but I had more than enough to eat, so that was just pure greed. There's only one dim sum I really crave anyway (char siu bao) and no guarantee they'd have had it even if the section was open.
I said to Dani that one of the many things I love about all you can eat is that you can have a little bit of bland alongside the new and exciting. I'd never order a whole portion of lemon chicken, but it was my ex-husband's go-to Chinese meal when we met (before I educated his palate and then broke his heart) so it was lovely to have a little blast from the past.
We talked and laughed of course. I pretty much nearly held it all together, although I was close to tears quite often. I was so overwhelmed and stressed out. I was still in the mode where all I wanted to do was go home and hide, even though I knew that not only was that not a grown up response, but also that my situation would not change if I did.
Dani help reiterate the mantra other wise minds have been chanting. One step at a time. Bite size chunks. This too shall pass.
The drip, drip effect has helped of course. But mostly it's not being in freefall re job and accommodation which has switched off the whistles and bells going off in my nervous system.
Anyway, back to Bradford for the next post.
Bradford City Park.
This is a wide, shallow pool in the centre of Bradford, drained every night and refilled every morning. And when I say shallow I mean ankle deep at its deepest.
City Park has many moods. It can be a cool, tranquil and misty space, a huge, reflective watery mirror, a bubbling, squirting, and splashing fountain display, a brilliantly lit aqueous interactive laser artwork or a thunderous water spout, shooting over 30 metres into the air
says the official website.
We saw it on a warm and sunny day, and children of all ages and races were enjoying it. Some families had come prepared with food, towels and swimsuits. Others just sat nearby watching their offspring roll up their trousers and skirts and paddle about. Other children were nearly completely dressed and completely soaked. Good luck getting them home on the bus!
It was a wonderful place, all in the shadow of Bradford's glorious gothic Town Hall.
This isn't some sort of frowned upon fountain invasion.
The water is chlorinated and there is a warden on hand to make sure proper safety guidelines are adhered to.
This is a place with sections of decking and an almost imperceptible incline rather than a lip to climb over.
I think it's a marvellous idea, and it was almost like being at the seaside. Excellent town planning.
So the next phase is getting up there for my Orientation.
From what I gathered from my phone call, they want me there for 01/05/14, but that's not my official start date. It can't be anyway; I told them that I had a commitment here on Tuesday 6, which is the day Mum & I are going to London together. No way am I blowing that off, we have the whole day planned and tickets booked. Anything after that is fair game.
But the plan is for me to hire a car (ARGH!) take up as much as I can fit in which isn't essential to my living here, and the Diz-monster.
I put Diz in a cattery (double ARGH!) collect the keys, move in what I have with me and then drive back same night.
Exhausting but I can deal with that.
Expensive but Mum will pay for that.
Then I move whenever my truly wonderful friend and I/ my branch/ Otley branch can agree on a date. That's my proper move. I leave it maybe another day and then rescue my poor abandoned boy from the cattery via taxi.
It's all still quite terrifying, but it's the only way we can think of to make it work.
I can't turn up with Diz as soon as I move in - too obvious. And Mum wants him to have his jabs (Monday) and experience of a cattery because she wants to take me on holiday with them in September. She's paying, but she says it will be worth it to get some sun. She can't cope on her own with Dad abroad or travelling any more, and can't leave him at home alone.
September is another planet to me now.
Just let me get to the end of May safely.
Just seeing these now. Thanks for posting them. It's nice to see your new city.
Exciting times!
Some changes to the plans.
New branch realises I don't need a full induction day. Quite right, much of it is statutory training I've already done. Silly for them to pay for me to attend when I can be working in another branch that day and being paid from their budget. Not being snarky; it is good business sense rather than tick-box thinking.
So no trip away on Dad's birthday, yay!
Instead I work until 05/05/14 in Aylesbury, go to London with Mum for paid and organised day out on the sixth. This will be wonderful.
While I am out enjoying myself, a certain Dwellar will be hiring a van and creeping down the country to Aylesbury to stay overnight.
I will have everything ready to go on that Wednesday morning, including the sedated Dizcat in his cat carrier. Off up the M1 to Otley. Diz goes into a gorgeous local
cattery for three nights.
I start work the next week.
Probably more time off than I really need, but I am on other people's schedules. I can't move before the 6th or after the 8th. The cattery can't take Diz after the 10th. My new branch want me to start when there is adequate cover to train me.
All I am (immediately) worried about now is the lack of response from my new landlord...
Left him a message this morning.
Need him to acknowledge receipt of the deposit and first months rent, and agree a handover of keys.
All other worries can wait their turn in the queue.
Return rail ticket to Leeds booked.
Van rental booked.
Accommodation sorted.
Thelma and Louise are gonna hit the road!
:D
Got a message from the landlord this morning.
Transfer received, flat is mine, phew.
Going to sort out my leaving date/ who is paying my annual leave when I get to work today.
Obviously it all comes from the same company, but just as obviously each branch has their own targets/ budgets/ staff costs. It's not up to me to sort it out for them, just to make sure everyone is informed all the way down the line.
Took my first shopping trolley worth of goods to the charity shop today.
Got my first box of things to move packed.
Filled my first binbag full of general rubbish, and put the equivalent in the recycling bin.
This is actually going to happen, people.
My anxiety levels are still spiking though. Waiting for a telephone appointment from the Doctor today re medication. I spent last night dozing in between muddled dreams about bakery starring the cast of Trainspotting, as I'm reading the prequel (Skagboys) right now. No more packing this morning, although maybe a little bit more before i go to work this afternoon. Little and often.
That would be a creepy dream!
I just sent an unsolicited request for occasional employment to
Heebies in Otley.
First time I've ever asked someone to employ me without knowing they had a vacancy since I was a teenager.
But it has such good reviews and seems right up my street.
Literally. It's on the street I'm going to be living on.
Far from telling me to bugger off, I had a lovely response suggesting that they do have peaks and troughs in their footfall and would be happy to talk to me about ad hoc employment opportunities. The Tour de France is coming "right past their door", which means right past mine - yay! - and there are various occasions and festivals which mean they may require extra staff.
I know my main job will need me.
But I also know that the old cliché
a change is as good as a rest applies when it comes to second jobs. Donning an apron and serving tea and cake, or selling American candy and Harry Potter merchandise would be a wonderful way to earn extra money without feeling like I never got away from work.
I mean, seriously? Cakies, Merkin comestibles, Harry Potter, me?
Match made in heaven.
Good thinking!
Sent by thought transference
I think Hebe might have to fight you for that shop.... ;)
Good luck with the move
And once you get your foot in the door...
I think Hebe might have to fight you for that shop.
I know! I thought that. T'was common sense which stayed my typing hands in not using that as a reason for them to employ me :)
And once you get your foot in the door...
... you can let the vampires in.
Oh, sorry. Yes, I was hoping that if I worked a little they'd like the cut of my jib.
I even offered to work a free shift. Which they declined saying they believed in paying an honest wage for honest work.
Limes, you realise we'll have to go there for brekkers on the 8th, right?
Bacon rolls are on me.
I'm going to give them my contact details asap, because you never know.
Brilliant!
Sent by thought transference
Nice! Things are looking up up up!
Just got my confirmation from BT; I will have a landline and internet access from 15/05.
Better than I ever had in Leicester, but then I rely on y'all for my sanity more than I did then. Ditto being in contact with the 'rents.
There are still plenty of things I'm mentally shying away from, so I don't end up with sick in my mouth, but it's true that it is beginning to come together.
Oh, got a letter from the hospital yesterday. Dated 4 April. Nice.
It told (TOLD) my GP practice to continue my Baclofen and 2 x Vitamin B tablets on prescription. This is because I was utterly defeated and broken down when I saw the Consultant and it felt like she pretty much washed her hands of me. When she asked whether I was continuing my medication I told her the truth, that my GP did not have it on my repeat prescription and seemed to think someone else was prescribing it for me. So she did follow through at least.
I photocopied the letter (which they were already copied into anyway) and asked for a prescription without appointment. I may have detailed it here somewhere; I had to fight to get even a telephone appointment for what was effectively a repeat prescription... So we'll see how that goes down.
Just got my confirmation from BT; I will have a landline and internet access from 15/05.
That's great news, Sundae. :thumb:
We can't have you incommunicado, can we?
Excellent work, Sundae. Keep focused on all the bits that have come together. You've achieved such a lot! X
Sent by thought transference
In the prequel to Lime Sundae (a remake of Thelma and Louise), Limey has set off for Leeds and already changed mode of transport twice (drove to ferry terminal, taken the boat, now on a train to Glasgow). Two more trains and a van - drive await ....
Sent by thought transference
I think that we should have a Mission Control moving map display for an operation of this magnitude and complexity.;)
So do I. Amongst the deeply technical kit I carrying there is a kitchen table and a small teddy bear ...
Sent by thought transference
Am now ensconced in a "safe house" after miles of 50mph motorway (the signs said they're building a 'smart motorway'!?) and dinner at my dad's old local.
Carruthers! You missed a treat!
[ATTACH]47608[/ATTACH]
Sent by thought transference
I'm not big carrot fan, but, that looks pretty damn tasty.
Am now ensconced in a "safe house" after miles of 50mph motorway (the signs said they're building a 'smart motorway'!?) and dinner at my dad's old local.
Carruthers! You missed a treat!
[ATTACH]47608[/ATTACH]
Sent by thought transference
So it would appear!
They weren't big carrots!
Sent by thought transference
I've been gone for awhile. Is Sundae going into a witness protection program and Limey is her "handler" charged with relocating her and establishing her new alias?
Sshhhhhh
Sent by thought transference
Eat hearty, limey, you'll need your strength. :haha:
DANA!!!!!!!!! Limey's eating Carrot!
I quite forgot to say that yesterday's journey meant that I got to travel on the Settle to Carlisle railway (in the other direction! ). This is a famous line, a remarkable feat of Victorian engineering and a tourist attraction in its own right. It was threatened with closure 25 years ago and saved by a vigorous public campaign.
The station architecture is relatively unspoilt Victorian rural, and some of the views very lovely indeed.[ATTACH]47615[/ATTACH][ATTACH]47616[/ATTACH][ATTACH]47617[/ATTACH][ATTACH]47618[/ATTACH]
Sent by thought transference
Glad it didn't get torn down.
They are pulling out some really nice "no left turn" neon traffic signs that were probably hand blown decades ago, and replacing them with some gaudy LED things. Progress. I know. But neon work is a lost skill and you pretty much never see it on traffic signs any more.
If the old stuff still does the job well, leave it alone.
That's my favourite train route!
I've travelled that route on just one occasion and it must be twenty+ years ago. Heavens, it frightens me how quickly time seems to pass.
Everyone pray for Limey today, as she goes forth to battle procrastination and distraction in an effort to install out Cellar agent in West Yorkshire... two flights up. :hug:
Your prayers were answered in the form of fresh legs when we needed them most. DanaC saved the day by turning up just for the energising and energetic task of hauling an entire household up two flights of stairs. My old legs are still wibbly from my part in the action.
I'm not going to steal Sundae's thunder but we've been out for a wander round the town and it's wonderfully picturesque. I'm really looking forward to Sundae's reportage :)
Sent by thought transference
Thanks for that, Limey. Glad you all got there safely and mission accomplished.
Hooray for friends! Limey and DanaC are the best.
Hip hip hooray! (That's a UK thing, right?)
Hooray for friends! Limey and DanaC are the best.
Truly exceptional dwellars.
Bravo, bravo, you're excused from encores out of mercy. :D
I think that we should have a Mission Control moving map display for an operation of this magnitude and complexity.;)
[YOUTUBE]tGSUjuSBt1A[/YOUTUBE]
Just seeing these now. Thanks for posting them. It's nice to see your new city.
Exciting times!
And now *I'm* just now seeing them.
Thanks for that, Limey. Glad you all got there safely and mission accomplished.
Thankfully, it wasn't an Impossible Mission after all.
Here's a couple of videos from my Carlisle to Settle rail journey:
[YOUTUBE]ptfiERwkMBI[/YOUTUBE]
[YOUTUBE]WLiTX_2h04o[/YOUTUBE]
Nice videos, Limey. :thumb:
Nice videos, Limey. :thumb:
Thanks! They're only short, but representative of "England's green and pleasant land".
Sent by thought transference
Spent today at Otley Show (agricultural show, first of the season).
It's known for its appalling weather, but today was clear, bright and sunshiney.
I have lots of pics to share when I finally get online.
Oh, forgot to tell you. Had a minor hiccup regarding the visit of the BT engineer on Thursday.
Said hiccup being I don't have a doorbell.
So I left a note with my mobile number on the door.
Oh he turned up. He described the door and the note in his call log. But apparently there was no answer when he called. Funny, I was waiting with growing impatience every minute from 08.00 and my mobile showed no missed calls whatsoever, and certainly no voicemail message. Seriously - if someone leaves a message on their door to say they ARE in and are waiting for you, wouldn't even basic courtesy be to leave a message and wait a few minutes?
I think he was running late, saw the note and saw a good opportunity to make up some time.
So. Repeat performance this Thursday.
Guess who is going to picnic on her front step, weeing into a bottle if necessary?
Check the Yorkshire Times for headlines "Slightly Mature and Slightly Overweight But Still Compellingly Attractive Lady Arrested For Public Decency Offence In Otley; Blames Texan Influence".
Okay, that's too long for a headline, but you get what I mean.
Anyway.
The entrance to the show was £8 but I was there for over four hours and had a wonderful time. Cheaper than the cinema and more healthy. I saw about £200 worth of things I'd have liked to buy, but instead had a hog roast bap (which cost nearly that) and an ice cream and the juice I brought with me. Good girl.
And it was splendid to be out in the sun - factor 50 - in the open air and seeing all the animals.
And taking photos for you.
I think he was running late, saw the note and saw a good opportunity to make up some time.
Or saw the chance of engineering (geddit?) an early finish and grabbed it with both hands.
Cynical? Me? But of course! :eyebrow:
So here I am at last, online in my own flat! Yay!!
I have so many photos to share with you.
And so many more to take.
I admit I stopped for a while, given the frustration of not being able to share them.
And the weather here is defiantly rainy, which doesn't show many places at their best.
But now I can pick and choose, and I'll probably choose to take at least some in the rain.
For example the town is immensely proud that Le Tour is coming through it on 5 July, so I have to take a photo of some of the painted windows, banners, yellow bikes used as planters etc.
And the local independent shops in their courtyards and alleyways, the many many many pubs and chipshops, the glooming old churches etc. All of which can be done from under my waterproof jacket.
But I thought I'd best start with Otley Show.
Fast forward quite a way if you are not interested in Agricultural Shows, I admit I took lots of pics. It's the first show of the season and it usually pelts it down; although why people here are surprised by that I have no idea, given it's the default weather setting.
This year in my honour it was bright and sunny and I really enjoyed myself.
Went on a limited budget, and although I took enough for food and drink (because it was a day out and a treat) I promised myself I would not buy anything to bring home, and I didn't. I know other people might see that as the wrong way round, but when I was a child we always had warm squash and homemade sandwiches on days out, so buying a chap crappy burger and an ice cream still speaks to the child in me, rather than some tat which catches my eye at the time and them just has to be moved around the country later!
So I stayed there for hours and it was money well spent.
Bullocks!
No, really. Bovines first.
Why is that bitch forcing that poor bull to smell her armpit? :cool:
Rasta sheep and pygmy goats.
Horses of courses.
Including a Shire horse.
More Shires in their fancy dress.
(ETA just realised is two pics of same horse, but none of the other horses came out as well on camera)
I love the Rasta sheep! And that you're online!
Sent by thought transference
As I said, they're geared up for the Tour de France.
Cycling challenge.
And no, I didn't. But only so I didn't win the whisky of course.
There were various commercial tents as well as stands selling food to eat there and then.
Traditional and expected, and perhaps not so traditional or expected...
Fell in love with the tiny hand made guinea pigs. And so cheap too.
NO.
Bad guinea pigs. No.
didn't get no preserves either.
Although I admit they had some interesting combinations, including hot beetroot, which I can attest is wonderful with corned beef having had it at Limey's.
Pies are a serious business hereabouts.
Lemonade not so much, but I liked the brightly coloured stall.
I took this on my initial tour, reasonably early on.
When I passed it approx 3 hours later it had sold out. So maybe Otley folk take their lemonade more seriously than I realised.
Welcome back Sundae, and thanks for the update.
Now you're reconnected all is right with the World and its Wide Web. :thumb:
N.
Lemonade...I took this on my initial tour...When I passed it approx 3 hours later...
That's how I read it the first time.
:lol2:
What an interesting new world you've dropped yourself into, lots of new sights, sounds, and smells, to entertain you... and us. Fresh air and sunshine is good for health and mood, plus more opportunities to meet and make friends. Looks like you're on your way to a lot of good stuff. You go, girl.:cheerldr:
Carnivorous plants, what a great hobby/pet. :thumb:
Lemonade, 2.50 GBP is $4.19 USD. I suppose being at the fair(agricultural show) it would be at a premium like a fair/resort/show over here. But I get the impression your prices for food/drink are generally higher than ours.
glad to see you online. now what is a hot beetroot and why would you put preserves on corned beef?? the people on the stationary bikes - were they trying to jump off the car parked in the background??? also, why don't they have fruit in your pies?? I'm beginning to see why we filed for divorce in 1776.
Am I the only one to think the tags in the ears of the rasta sheep makes it look like it has googly eyes?
and that horse with the row of pub darts in its neck?
Seriously, it's great to have you posting pictures again.
Thanks for the feedback all!
If I forget to answer a question, please do ask again; it's not deliberate.
Bruce - our pints are bigger than yours, and yes that is at a premium price because it's at a show. I think our supermarket food is similar in price, depending on whether it's local or not, and taking into account taxes (yours - ours tax is a flat rate across the UK). But eating and drinking out/ takeaway is still cheaper in the US, although that's coming to meet in the middle. We serve smaller portions and give lower tips thanks to a higher minimum wage. Also (again) menu prices are shown inclusive of tax where applicable.
Sarge, it was a corned beef roll. I'd usually have that with Branstons Pickle, but I'm open to a bit of hot chutney action from time to time... We do have fruit pies, but the specialists tend to sell the meat ones, especially at shows. Fruit pies in general are family sized, as opposed to the little ones for one or two people.
I didn't see the googly eyes initially, but I saw the darts even when I was at the Show.
Bunnies! I went a little camera-happy with the rabbits, Ive never seen so many new flavours. I've just chosen a couple for you.
If you wanted a cat, why you get a babbit?
Back to people.
Country crafts and traditional ways of working fascinate me. No idea why I spent more time watching the blacksmith competitions than the man with the lathe/ treadle/ thingy...
Drystone wall building (this was of a more impressive height later, I think they were on a break) and a rather good folk band. I was waiting for them to sing All Around My Hat, but that was more because I was sat in the shade eating than because I really needed to hear it.
No idea why I spent more time watching the blacksmith competitions than the man with the lathe/ treadle/ thingy...
Sun's out, guns out.
Vehicles.
Ice cream van with improbably small queue. I queued 20 minutes for my cone later.
Coffee van.
After I took the photo I saw a sign which said something like "Feel free to take a photo, but if you're not buying from us we'd appreciate a small donation to be made to the VW Camper Van Association" or something like that. Blahblahblah. Had I seen it I wouldn't have taken a photo. But I didn't, so I did, and then skipped away guiltily.
Old Americans, especially those who have seen active service, are close to my heart, no idea why :lol:
Great pics (and you say the sun never shines there!). I particularly like the bricks and blocks lorry. And the animals. I love a good show.
Sent by thought transference
Chicks with bricks come!
Chicks with blocks come!
Chicks with bricks and blocks and clocks come!
Creepy things I liked, as well as more normal decorative items from the same stall.
Talking of handicrafts, here are some from the show tents.
I took photos of the things that caught my eye, not always the winner.
Knitted goods for Limey.
Wooden stuff. I loved this bowl.
Not sure what this was judging.
Amusing Things to do with Fruit perhaps?
("Tell them one about the Mau Mau")
Gift wrapping.
I think mine look better when I have the money to do it to my satisfaction, but then I didn't agree with their prize giving, so I doubt I'll enter next year.
And flower arranging which I admire and wouldn't even know where to start in official terms. I can arrange to my own satisfaction (and Mum's admiration) but I work only to my personal taste. I enjoyed them anyway.
Oh, Heavens! The B & T S tipper is a Thames Trader and I remember them being a familiar sight during my childhood.
How quickly the years do pass.:thepain:
Lovely miniature gardens.
Did the fox say anything?
A couple more for one of my official sponsors, Limey.
Otley Brass Band.
I loved the little chap on the bongos, but it was hard to get a shot of him.
Did the fox say anything?
He said, "You're gonna hear me RO-ARRR! [SIZE="1"][COLOR="Silver"]uh uh uh ohohoh[/COLOR][/SIZE]"
Actually it was probably something about socks and blocks and clocks.
Ferrets.
Rescue ferrets. Which I found quite funny, until I stopped by to listen to the charity's stories of abandoned ferret rescue. And then I queued up to pay the 50p suggested donation to pet a ferret.
They were so gorgeous and the stories so harrowing[COLOR="White"] (mischief!)[/COLOR]
Chicks with... well, just chicks really.
"Stop Judging Me! Oh, that's the whole reason I'm here? Okay, sorry. I'm such a bird brain."
And no, this chicken hasn't been blow-dried, it's a silky.
A breed I've known two people to keep. They lay tiny and beautiful blue eggs.
Is it time for dogs?
It is.
Taken partly because there were so many of every kind at the Show - and nary a badly behaved or killer dog amongst them. And partly to please the dog-lovers. And partly of course to prove to Bruce that I don't believe the only good dog is a dead dog.
I don't really approve of fat collies though.
And of course my totes fave dog photo is because of a man...
I think we just have the birdies left to go!
This show of birds of prey was lively and informative. The handler told the story of each of the birds as he introduced them, many were rehabilitated by him after the people who kept them as trophies realised they could not cope with them.
Some other birds he had looked after had been sold on to zoos for breeding programmes and once in a while he was able to provide a bird for future release, if he had it young enough.
In general though, he kept and exercised the birds and took them to schools for educational purposes and exhibited them at shows. Almost all of them flew, there was one which wouldn't and one which couldn't.
He was very engaging, but was very strict about how people and their children (and dogs) should behave while any bird was loose. I saw his big show on the main ground, and it was very impressive. Then a smaller one, where I took the photos, which did not involve flying but allowed a closer look at the birds. He also showed off his impressive collection of scars, to further reiterate that these were not domesticated animals, merely ones who had decided to work with him for food and shelter. Like Diz. Except for the work part.
No pictures of the scars?
Sent by thought transference
Again, I didn't get good photos of all the birds, so I've just used the ones I thought looked best. There were about seven in total, including a sea eagle and I think a bald eagle.
I doubt the scars show in this photo.
You're right. He is very.
Sent by thought transference
So that's it, the end of the Show.
Don't fret, it's just the beginning of Otley...
Is it just me, or, does Bird Guy resemble Regular.Joe?
*******************************
Digging the pics, Sundae.
Welcome back to the internet!
Thanks, that show is much bigger than I expected. I agree the wood bowl is outstanding by any measure.
i have thoroughly enjoyed your pics. it was almost like being there
As mentioned before, the town is truly proud - and capitalising on - the fact that Le Tour is coming through on the 5th July. Le Grand Depart. In fact I came home to a letter just yesterday lunchtime telling me about road closures and parking restrictions. Apparently if I don't move my car from Boroughgate before 05.00 at the latest it will be towed away. Quel horreur!
Anyway, pretty much every business in town has formed a link to the Tour, window painting and bunting being the most popular. Here are some photos of Tour specific shop windows, and also some general shots of shops, courtyards, alleyways etc. It's a great place for small independents.
Oh don't be fooled by the weather. If you check the date stamps you'll see I was skipping about down in a very short space of time before it started raining again :eyebrow:
I can see both of these from my front room window:
A complex of retirement flats.
An art gallery which is one of the few eschewing the yellow jersey motif, going instead with the polka dots of the King of the Mountains.
These bikes are all over town.
They're a lovely sight.
Local butcher.
Jewellers showing the route.
Shop that sells soap pretending to be other things.
Nice presents, except I always worry people will take the gift at face value and then be really disappointed to find it is only soap. There is precedence for that - Mum was really excited by the little box of chocolates I sent her from Leicester, gutted to realise they were chocolate scented candles.
Heebies, where I still hope to work once I get used to already putting in 30-39 hours per week in my main job.
The market towards the end of the day as it was packing up.
it's small but well attended, I'll take a photo of it in full swing at some point.
The alleyways and courtyards are still a little bit of a magical mystery tour for me; I can't always remember which one leads where.
They're lovely though.
We're in real Walking and Cycling territory, the Gateway to the Dales.
So lots and lots and LOTS of cafes and tearooms.
Many have water for dogs outside, and pubs advertise that they are dog-friendly.
Two specialist alcohol shops.
I have been in to look. They sell quite extraordinary things. the beer shop sells a range by
Voodoo Donut for example, as well as more seriously beery lines.
The proprietor in the wine shop told me of a time last Summer when a man just leaned into the open door, snagged the nearest bottle and took off down the street. The owner was so furious he chased him down, he said it was pure instinct. The man got away but dropped the bottle. It was actually a fairly generic bottle of sherry. When he got back to the shop he realised he'd left both his shop and till unattended. Luckily it wasn't a planned distration burglary, just a general scrote working on his own instinct - ie a criminal one.
He rearranged the shop after that.
Two different ends of the shopping spectrum.
Change of tack (bored with shops for now, more to come later).
In the occasional bouts of sunshine, I'm lucky enough to live near a glorious park.
I go to feed the ducks, swans and seagulls, watch the families at play and sit on a bench reading, safely covered in a film of sunscreen.
It's green, watery, flowery and has a great playground.
I haven't seen any squirrels yet, though. Shame. Probably too many dogs; I've never seen less than five at any time of day, and usually more.
Of course this being Otley it has an unusual local name.
A placid scene.
Except you want to watch the swans. They can break a man's leg you know.
More solid metal playground equipment :)
For younger children than the park in Glasgow, and also not covered in grafitti.
A weather appropriate item - there is a foot button to work a water pump, and the water is then channelled via a series of troughs and drops. Excellent open-minded thinking, especially if you can't use anything else in a wet playground that day.
My kinda place to watch the world go by.
There is a row of houses facing the river, with the formal gardens in front of them. I don't think they let you buy a house there unless you are an expert gardener, as the front of all the houses are immaculate. I suspect that neighbours would offer to "help" if you let it get a little... unkempt.
I love wisteria. Always makes me think of grapes.
Turns out not everyone is enamoured of Le Tour.
This was dumped off the bridge to lie on the riverbed.
The lickle fishes seem to like it.
Another yellow bike, in situ this time.
Another courtyard and another shop.
The hats are in the window; I can only assume they have a chiller out back with the hearts in.
Wow, it sure is.
That Ammo Box building is interesting. What is it near or part of?
That Ammo Box building is interesting. What is it near or part of?
Nothing! Or at least nothing that explains it.
It's just its own little anomalous self. It looks like something sliced in half, but the lane it's on seems of an age with the buildings. The lintel looks older, so perhaps it was an outbuilding which the lane used to detour around?
Of such quirks is Yorkshire made I guess :rolleyes:
Reminded me of Emily's shop in Bagpuss.
A rose by any other name...
Nothing! Or at least nothing that explains it.
It's just its own little anomalous self. It looks like something sliced in half, but the lane it's on seems of an age with the buildings. The lintel looks older, so perhaps it was an outbuilding which the lane used to detour around?
Of such quirks is Yorkshire made I guess :rolleyes:
Ahh, it seemed like an outpost or guard shack of an old military installation. I love it. Your town is awesome.
But in truth it might be. I don't know any of the history of this place, so I can only go on what I see.
It is awesome, isn't it?
I've really lucked out here.
Probably too many dogs; I've never seen less than five at any time of day, and usually more.
OMG, are you alright? :p:
I know! I think I might need to get some shots.
Luckily Diz presses his furry cheek against mine every morning to decontaminate my brain. Or to tell me it's 05.30 and time for breakfast, one or the other.
So a whole nation in exile says thank you to my new town.
They've taken me in too, I might manage a painted pebble at some point.
I make a point to walk past this garden as often as possible.
Which isn't hard as I can make it part of my walk home, to The Other Supermarket, to the library, Post Office or Wetherspoons (although I haven't been there since I got connected at home).
It's just so gorgeous. Brianna would have adored it.
Dani, it's right next to the bus station!
When I win £85m in the Euromillions tonight it's exactly how I'm going to ask my gardener to lay out my garden.
And I'll have enough money left over to pay for a bit of Old Cock too I reckon.
No, I haven't been in. Looks like a bit of a spit and sawdust place. Once again that's probably me being unfair.
Another couple of hostelries (I haven't even started taking photos of them properly yet!)
One which tickled my fancy re the parking situation.
And the above mentioned Wetherspoons. I expect I will go there with Mum when she comes up, because it's clean and cheap and cheerful and does a host of hot and cold drinks, sandwiches, snacks and main meals.
Sundae, I'm so glad you're enjoying your new hometown and sharing it with us all! When I was there (too briefly) helping you move I could see it was charming, but if didn't realise just how charming!
Sent by thought transference
The inside of The Bowling Green is a typical Wetherspoons. Carpet, dark wood tables, open fire when appropriate.
But... as you go to the bar you walk through the centre section which is like a conservatory. Flagstone floor, vaulted glass ceiling and whopping great swathes of light even on rainy days. On sunny days (aha, I mean during sunny spells) it makes me sneeze like a pig.
The Ladies is up a set of stone stairs, the first and last of which are not the same height as the others, which is slightly jarring.
It's a great place to while away some time with a book or an iPad, as long as there are not too many screaming babies. Which sometimes there are, but I understand why Mums bring them there, it really isn't like a pub at all.
When it's not raining it's also a great place to sit outside, but you have to accept that many smokers can't read, or simply don't care. The back courtyard is 100% non-smoking, but doesn't get that much sun. Fine by me. Except that people will come out of the side door and stand and smoke on the street, and invariably ALL the smoke blows back into said courtyard.
And out the front, which catches all available sun, the section closest to the pub is actually designated Non Smoking, with signs, and with no ashtrays on tables, apparently due to customer feedback (presumably from non-smoking parents) but 9/10 you will get a smoker sat there oblivious. I don't mind that much, except I don't like rules being broken. It's only that you can bet if I have food the smoke will head directly for me, only me, and right into my greedy open mouth.
Better to go sit in the park now I can come home and get online when the rain starts again.
Sundae, I'm so glad you're enjoying your new hometown and sharing it with us all! When I was there (too briefly) helping you move I could see it was charming, but if didn't realise just how charming!
I console myself that even if I had been in a fit state to start appreciating it immediately, it was all closed down by that time and wouldn't have surrendered up its charm properly.
I so can't wait for Mum to come up.
Even if she does want to waste half a bloody day in Harrogate.
I can't deny her though; she's always wanted to go there and with Dad so crook these days she's unlikely to come this far North with him.
I think Otley will surprise her though. I think she thinks of it something like a small version of Aylesbury, and can't understand why I would like her to spend the full two days just here. She's coming up for three nights, but I'm not counting the first evening or last morning... She'll be shattered. I was :blush:
Re: The Bowling Green
Bowling Green (15-25 minutes up the road) is our (Kentucky's) third-largest city, and the fastest growing.
Even if she does want to waste half a bloody day in Harrogate.
To get wet, or tour the facilities and gardens?
I make a point to walk past this garden as often as possible.
Which isn't hard as I can make it part of my walk home, to The Other Supermarket, to the library, Post Office or Wetherspoons (although I haven't been there since I got connected at home).
It's just so gorgeous. Brianna would have adored it.
Dani, it's right next to the bus station!
When I win £85m in the Euromillions tonight it's exactly how I'm going to ask my gardener to lay out my garden.
--snip.
Foxglove, bluebells, daisies, it looks like my front yard right now.
Bowling Green (15-25 minutes up the road) is our (Kentucky's) third-largest city, and the fastest growing.
Stopped by after work last night for the first time in a while. It was late enough that the courtyard had the sun, and I had my new (to me) Game of Thrones book to read. It was very peaceful in the back courtyard, but the rest of the place could well have been Kentucky's third largest city! Because I'm working overtime tomorrow (well, later today) I honestly forgot it was a Friday night. And a Friday on which it hadn't rained all day. Never mind, storms due later today, business as usual.
To get wet, or tour the facilities and gardens?
No idea TBH. We may have hit a snag. House sale still not finalised, 'rents paying 2x taxes and charges. No money for frivolities, which includes no money for jaunts up to Otley. Keep everything crossed for me, I knew I was looking forward to her visit but I didn't realise how much I had invested in it. I had a real howl when I put the phone down earlier this evening. Because it's all just about the bloody timing, not because it's genuinely financially out of reach. I mean I wouldn't cry because I can't go to the Bahamas.
Need to be more grown up. A birthday is just a random date. She'll just come when she can (booked bloody time off work and everything, wanted to get flat all nice, even got B&B booked for her, grumble grumble)
Foxglove, bluebells, daisies, it looks like my front yard right now.
You have an English Country Garden.
That's it, I'm moving in with you. As well as Sarge and 'Spode and Bruce (as his potato wife) and Carruthers (to help with his Dad and his plot of land)...
Okay, a grave undertaking.
A churchyard I sometimes cut through on my way home in the evenings. It's not the fastest route home, but it is the shortest if I am going via the Other Supermarket. And it's an old enough boneyard to be an oasis of calm.
And as I'm touring this green and pleasant tract, I come across a jarring note.
So ostentatious it must be Victorian.
So out of keeping with the harmony of the other graves it must be a nouveau riche testament to the passing of somone in Trade :thepain:
Of course I'm not that snobbish. It fascinated me.
Well.
Turns out it isn't a monument to ego. It's a memorial to men who died on the railways. One particular railway and one specific tunnel.
Their families would probably have preferred the money, but at least the deaths were recognised. Albeit in an overblown Victorian way.
Where Mum would have been staying/ will be staying when she comes up to see me. The Horse and Farrier.
Please don't ask how I know how nice the rooms are[COLOR="White"] (locked myself out of my flat, £60 I couldn't afford)[/COLOR]
I promise I will tell you one day as an amusing story [COLOR="white"](when I get over the fact I spent my Council Tax money on a B&B because I locked myself out of my flat)[/COLOR]
Anyway it is clean and quiet and perfect for Mum, with amazing power showers and HUGE breakfasts.
have you found the donkey stone?
Isn't that what they used for blacking stoves or something?
Sundae that was fantastic! I just worked through them this morning, I especially loved the farm show but your town is gorgeous! Such a nice place and dog friendly. :)
Isn't that what they used for blacking stoves or something?
statements like that will get you burned as a heretic in Otley
I thought that was my nose...
A couple more painted windows.
The second is a bridal shop which is twinned with the florist next door (hence the doorway being blocked by plants, as they share an entrance.)
I found out that the reason every other shop has decorated windows is due to the Otley Carnival window dressing competition which happens every year.
But they still chose to participate and it's still wonderful to see.
Half the (many) pubs in Otley have a claim to fame.
Many of them are to do with how old they are.
I can't verify this as 1) I wasn't around then and 2) I haven't been in them, not even for a soft drink.
I will try to take photos of the various plaques for you
This is the Black Bull
Market photo as promised.
Sewing machine in charity shop. I'm sure this is exactly the same model as Dad made our school uniforms on.
Ha! Mum used to have one like that.
My new plan for our Cellar venture!
The Black Horse pub & hotel is currently for sale.
Let's buy it. We can have a micro-brewery out back. And keep goats. And have table service American-style, with cool waitresses (with or without tattoos), And I can live above it and you can all keep me on the straight and narrow.
Cake shop tribute.
Banks get the best buildings.
Wonder if the balconies are safe and whether they'll let the staff on them to watch the Tour?
The Black Horse pub & hotel is currently for sale.
Let's buy it. We can have a micro-brewery out back. And keep goats. And have table service American-style, with cool waitresses (with or without tattoos), And I can live above it and you can all keep me on the straight and narrow.
Then we could all drop, "my place in England", into casual conversation. :haha:
Someone, somewhere always wants to walk through your shot. And if you wait, a lorry or a double decker bus will obscure it. And by then the next person is ready. Sigh.
The Old Grammar School.
I deliberately missed out the very odd statue of Thomas Chippendale looking like Uriah Heep.
The church I may go to Mass in when Mum comes up, to make her happy.
Although a sneaky part of me hopes the times clash with breakfast ;)
Oh c'mon, we know you cleverly included that person for scale. ;)
£40 sounds like a steal on that sewing machine. Maybe it's not as old as I'm thinking it is.
The Black Horse is actually a very feasible idea. The cost is only $38,644.14 for the business. Rent is $31,083.33 a year for the building. The hotel is rated at 3.5 stars and has 12 rooms. It has a small bar and a dining room that seats 30. The main question that remains to be answered is how close this is to the Donkey Stone. You know Ole' Johnny really loved Robert and I am sure it would be a big tourist draw.
Has me wondering if I can use my VA guaranty for an SBA in a foreign country. Also, I wonder how the Brits feel about moonshine?
Also, I wonder how the Brits feel about moonshine?
In days of yore, frightfully tetchy chaps in tricorn hats and mounted on horses (the Revenue Men) would turn up at an inconvenient hour and ask some awkward questions.
They don't wear tricorn hats these days, but they are still as tetchy.
On occasions there are fatal consequences from brewing or distilling illicit hooch.
Boston fire blast unit producing illegal vodka
Explosion at illegal vodka factory in Boston 'caused by cigarette'
On the whole, probably an activity best avoided.
So it's the damn revenooers fighting it in both countries!
Boston? I never heard there was a city named Boston in the UK.
I love it when I learn something new.
Boston? I never heard there was a city named Boston in the UK.
Accept no substitutes! :)
Where do you think you guys got the name from? :eyebrow:
Well my name's John Lee Pettimore
Same as my Daddy and his Daddy before
You hardly ever saw grandaddy down here
He only come to town about twice a year
He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line
Everybody knew that he made moonshine...
Just for reference, so you can hear more or less what I hear every day.
Fifty People, One Question is something I've come across on YouTube before.
This one is filmed in Leeds "What would you like to happen by the end of the day?"
[youtube]tGH0_IqCm48[/youtube]
It's only down the road. And even when the people obviously weren't born in Leeds I can hear the sharper vowels.
But that's with a South East England ear.
The hotel is rated at 3.5 stars and has 12 rooms.
Don't forget to keep those 3.5 stars you'd have to hire a very good chef, at minimum.
Where do you think you guys got the name from? :eyebrow:
Hey, we won that name fair and square. :p:
What if we turned it into a 50's theme diner and played early Elvis, etc??? Plus, how close is this to the Donkey Stone???
Plus, how close is this to the Donkey Stone???
I read that the first time as "How close is this to the Donkey Show?"
:lol2:
We might get a big crowd with a Tijuana donkey show. That's a good idea. But, Sundae needs to find the donkey stone because Robert was quite important
If it stays dry today I will go look for it.
I haven't had a full day off recently.
Looking at some of your photos, I think you have already walked past it a couple of times
Well don't be all secret squirrell, if you know where it is tell me!
Shall I take a topless selfie on it for you?
"The Donkey Stone" in Otley Parish Churchyard where John Wesley's horse Robert is reputedly buried.
Methodist preacher John Wesley was a frequent visitor to the town in the 18th century. Allegedly his horse died in the town and is buried in the grounds of the parish church. Its grave is marked by an unusual stone, also known locally as the "Donkey Stone". His Journal for 1761 reads, "6 July Monday; In the evening I preached at Otley and afterwards talked with many of the Society. There is reason to believe that ten or twelve of these are filled with the love of God." Wesley Street is named after him.
Wikipedia - Otley
All part of the service.;)
Well I went up and down what I think is the right place (boneyard of the current parish church) but I could not find it. Saw some squirrells though, so not all was lost.
And I didn't find any graves that pre-dated the 19th century, so I might be looking in the wrong place. There is an overgrown section, but whether that is by design or they are working their way round maintenance-wise I do not know.
I was in silver-sequined flipflops.
I was not going to risk a sting, bite or fall.
Soz and all that.
I also took the time to go inside, for which I offer thanks here.
I do love old ecclesiastical architecture.
Side by side their faces blurred, the Earl and Countess lie in stone...
No idea who these people are, although they must have held a title to be so prominently remembered. I will look it up one day, I do have an enquiring mind after all.
And definitely no idea about what seems to be a severed slave's head on the monument! Maybe someone just left it behind one day when they were shopping. Imagine their consternation when they got home and unpacked their bags... Beans, salmon, catfood, hairnet, wait - where's that stone head?
(Oh, the first line in my post is from Larkin's An Arundel Tomb)
Something old
Something blue
Ooh ooh the blue houses!
Sent by thought transference
Ooh ooh the blue houses!
They just don't come out that well in photos!
You and I know how arresting they are to the naked eye, but this is about the sixth photo I've taken of them yet.
I walk past this pub every work day.
Never been in, looks too blokey.
And I walk home the other way, through the churchyard.
But I told you that pubs in Otley like their plaques, so here is another one.
Well I went up and down what I think is the right place (boneyard of the current parish church) but I could not find it.
Does this help?
There is a story that one of Wesley’s horses died in Otley and was buried in the parish churchyard. Opposite the northwest corner of the Parish Church can be found a peculiar triangular stone, commonly known as the ‘donkey stone’, which is where the horse is believed to have been buried. Quoting from Wesley’s own journal on Sunday 5th May 1782: “One of my horses having been so thoroughly lamed at Otley that he died in three or four days. They buried him in the churchyard there being no other place. So Robert rests”.
John Wesley and the Ritchie FamilyMore window-dressed windows for the Carnival.
This bakery has two and split between the usual Tour theme and the World come.
Come on England!
Tell you what Carr, you come up to Otley with a compass which tells you where the North-West corner is and you take a photo.
And I expect you to wear your bestest silver flipflops too!
ETA sorry, that was meant to sound silly and flippant and instead sounded like drunken spousal abuse :eek:
Sorry my dears, we may have missed the boat on this one.
There were lights on inside and work vans in the covered yard.
I have a feeling we've been gazumped.
Someone has decided to make Thomas Chippendale look less 'umble.
Although I am worried about Mr Flibble having his ear.
At least I'm on the second floor; even with earplugs I'd hear him doing a Talos.
Yeah, good luck disentangling my references ;)
Kirkgate Arcade. Even if the mosaic tiles at the entrance idenify it as Jacksons Arcade :rolleyes:
There are places like this up and down England, but I've never seen one thriving like this. There's summat to be said about stubborn Yorkshire folk. We sell so much local produce on the Deli. If the Partnership was run by bean counters they'd be baffled, but their business model has always been about local and independent, as much as a countrywide business can be anyway.
I fell in love with these salt and pepper bunnies.
Don't need them, can't justify the purchase.
I just love the cheeky evil little beings.
Yorkshire and America reuinted.. pssst, you're looking the wrong way!
I promise you I have not taken a photo of every single shop in Otley.
And I know I am overloading you with photos.
It's just it's all new and exciting to me.
If I get a few years it will all just be standard.
If I get a few years it might be hospital interiors.
But you get what you buy.
Anyway.
Bike dipped in chocolate.
Of course it's chocolate.
Why would you think it looks lik anything else?
Just for the record, you do realise it's the Otley Carnival on Saturday, right?
More photos.
English carnivals do not follow the Roman tradition, but instead are held in the Summer. I was born on Carnival Day in Aylesbury, which used to be the first Saturday in July. No wonder I'm a meat eater (although I am mostly vegetarian and anyway the origin of the word is disputed)
So, last pic for now.
Don't cry.
Baksun.
I love your pictures, Sundae.
And your camera was just fooled with the red brick near those blue houses. When you dampen the red highlights, the blue comes out more.
[ATTACH]48155[/ATTACH]
Somebody here may need this
http://www.buzzfeed.com/danieldalton/now-then.
Sent by thought transference
I'm enthralled with your photos. The stain glass in the church is wonderful. Plus, I loved the twisted tree in the cemetery.
I see in Masham,
Health & Safety strikes again. :rolleyes:
HEALTH and safety bosses have ordered knitted bunting in a town on the Tour de France route to be taken down – as it was causing lampposts to lean. The bunting, featuring yellow, green, white and polka dot jumpers to represent the winners’ jerseys in the race, had been hung in Masham, near Ripon, by Harrogate Borough Council following an appeal by the authority to decorate the district.
Over six months, hundreds of schoolchildren, women’s institutes, craft groups and knitters from as far afield as Australia and the Arctic Circle created 23,453 jumpers for the display. A month after the bunting was hung in the town’s Market Place, and less than three weeks before 20,000 visitors are expected to visit Masham to see the race, residents and traders were stunned to see hundreds of the knitted jumpers being taken down by tree surgeons.
North Yorkshire County Council, which owns the lampposts, said it had asked the borough council to remove the bunting on safety grounds. It is believed the weight of the bunting increased after rain, causing lampposts to lean.
I suspect when one becomes a member of the Health & Safety SWAT Team, everything becomes a health and safety issue, and the biggest orgasms come from trumping another authority. But that's just a guess. :rolleyes:
Maybe. But I also maybe buy it. Ever pulled a wet comforter out of the washing machine to put in the dryer? And that's been spun free of as much liquid as possible. Depending on how thickly the fabric was layered on the lampposts, I could see it maybe actually being a significant amount of weight added, when rained on. Knitting can also be very thin, though, so who knows. I bet it had a ton of bugs living in it though, after a month...
We did have a brief (hahahaah) period of very, very heavy rain just recently
Maybe. But I also maybe buy it. Ever pulled a wet comforter out of the washing machine to put in the dryer? And that's been spun free of as much liquid as possible. Depending on how thickly the fabric was layered on the lampposts, I could see it maybe actually being a significant amount of weight added, when rained on. Knitting can also be very thin, though, so who knows. I bet it had a ton of bugs living in it though, after a month...
I don't doubt the string of knitting gets considerably heavier when wet, it just amazes me that their light posts are so wimpy. Also, I suspect the posts are a lot stronger than they think, although they should know best.
The posts bend under load? Ever see a light standard in a heavy wind, they'll whip like a willow.
My viewing Health & Safety with a jaundiced eye comes from reading an almost steady barrage of ridiculous stories, in the Brit press, with maybe 70% stemming from what I would call questionable rulings/enforcement from that agency. They could be a Monty Python division.
This yarn bombing thing has jumped the shark.
Oh, that's way less yarn than I was imagining. I take it back; they're full of shit.
I don't doubt the string of knitting gets considerably heavier when wet, it just amazes me that their light posts are so wimpy. Also, I suspect the posts are a lot stronger than they think, although they should know best.
The posts bend under load? Ever see a light standard in a heavy wind, they'll whip like a willow.
My viewing Health & Safety with a jaundiced eye comes from reading an almost steady barrage of ridiculous stories, in the Brit press, with maybe 70% stemming from what I would call questionable rulings/enforcement from that agency. They could be a Monty Python division.
I'd say about 70% is actually made up by the media.
Health and safety, along with 'political correctness gone mad' are staples of the press. Most of it is bullshit - like the war on Christmas ('can't even put a Christmas tree in Bradford any more!' yes you can)
Some stories also come from misunderstandings of Health & Safety legislation, or establishments blaming it because they do not want to carry out a Risk Assessment/ get adequate insurance/ actually be bothered with the event in the first place.
There was a report issued recently regarding stories which had come up through the local press which had nothing to do with Health & Safety.
For example Local Child's Party Cancelled; Health & Safety Concerns because it's in a pub garden and a glass might have been left on a table from the night before. So family calls up the local fishwrapper, who go to the pub in question, who say blahblah health & safety. Picked up by a national because the Mum is fit and the child is a curly haired moppet with big eyes. Big headlines, then buried in the last line of the article is a quote from the Council saying they had not been approached regarding this issue.
When properly investigated it turns out that the pub in question just thought it might be a bit dangerous and you know what Health & Safety is like these days you're not allowed to do anything, and they were going to be short-staffed anyway...
So it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
The report I read locally re the bunting was that there was one lampost which was affected. So rather than pay for repairs to ensure it was safe, far better to remove the efforts of volunteers :rolleyes:
It's the same thinking that cuts funding for successful patient treatment clincs (asthma, diabetes, obesity etc) where patients are helped to manage their own conditions by a pharmacist and a nurse prescriber. Save money in the short term. Increased medication costs and hospital admissions will happen in another fiscal year and from a different budget after all.
I was going to post earlier, but went off to paint the fence instead (Oh joy!)
In the meantime, Sundae has neatly covered the subject so I'll just add this from the Daily Telegraph.
Health and safety has become synonymous with nanny statism, interfering jobsworths, ludicrous litigation and risk aversion. And yet the Health and Safety at Work Act, which is 40 years old this summer, has arguably saved more lives than any other piece of legislation, including the ban on drink driving or the compulsory wearing of seat belts in cars. It may well have reduced deaths by 5,000 or more.
So how did an Act that was by any measure a milestone in social reform turn into one of the most disparaged statutes of recent times? Partly it has to do with the way the law is interpreted – and often wrongly blamed for absurd restrictions imposed on perfectly innocuous practices. But it also reflects an absolutist view that it is possible to avoid accidental injury or death, rather than simply to reduce the circumstances in which they might occur.
Let’s fly the flag for the life-saving health and safety law
Given the Telegraphs's general outlook on life, it's surprising to see the article published there. However, some of the more forthright comments do tend to redress the balance.
Incidentally, I suspect that the term 'jobsworth' might not survive a trans-Atlantic exchange of electrons so allow me to assist.
"Jobsworth" is a British colloquial word derived from the phrase "I can't do that, it's more than my job's worth", meaning it might lose the person their job: taking the initiative and performing an action, and perhaps in the process breaking a rule, is beyond what the person feels their job description allows. Wikipedia.
Today I went up The Chevin. Or at least that's how they say it here.
I haven't worked out whether it's the range of hills, or the forest, or just one part of the one hill, so I say it the way they do. Pronounced SHEV-inn.
On the way I passed passed the launderette, so I know where to go when I want my heavy duvet washed - the light one fits in my machine but the one I use as a mattress cover is much thicker. I wouldn't have anywhere sensible to dry it even if my machine did cope with the wash.
I also went past this decorated street. No knitted flags, but bicycles on top of bay windows.
Next a car boot sale setting up on the Cattle Market - pleased I know where it is now. Also I didn't go into the car boot sale as they charged a nominal entry fee and I wanted to save my worldly wealth for later in the day. I don't even know if 30p would have got me admittance.
The road up to the forest is very steep. I expected that, from the way the hills seem to stand like a wall from close to the end up the High Street.
I just hadn't expected to climb so high for so long. Perhaps it was because the view forward was uninspiring. You had to turn and look behind for the view. Which I did.
I'd say about 70% is actually made up by the media.
Some stories also come from misunderstandings of Health & Safety legislation, or establishments blaming it because they do not want to carry out a Risk Assessment/ get adequate insurance/ actually be bothered with the event in the first place.:rolleyes:
Incidentally, I suspect that the term 'jobsworth' might not survive a trans-Atlantic exchange of electrons so allow me to assist.
"Jobsworth" is a British colloquial word derived from the phrase "I can't do that, it's more than my job's worth", meaning it might lose the person their job: taking the initiative and performing an action, and perhaps in the process breaking a rule, is beyond what the person feels their job description allows.
Cool, thank you, and thanks for the jobsworth explanation. I'd posted the story here because of the proximity to Sundae's new stomping grounds and references to the bike race decorations. But since it's a bigger issue on both sides of the pond, let's stop littering Sundae's thread, thank her for being a lovely hostess, and take it
over here... or over there. :blush:
let's stop littering Sundae's thread, thank her for being a lovely hostess, and take it over here... or over there. :blush:
Don't worry, you have to set threads free and accept they might drift.
I just happened to have done something today!
So, into the forest.
One of the charming things they've done is to carve stumps/ logs into seats and posterns. They are on the official paths and bridleways but still seem to happen unexpectedly.
The first I saw was an elephant, which was so cool.
Why no photo?
Because a little girl was sat on it, crying and bleeding from a scraped knee which her mother was trying to clean with spit and a tissue.
I did ask them to move so I could take a photo, but the Mum seemed to have a have a more robust view of propriety than she did of first aid and chased me away with a stick.
Joking of course [COLOR="White"](it was a rock)[/COLOR]
Doe and deer.
My selfie didn't quite work out, but there were a number of people passing and I felt it would look vain t take shot after shot trying to get the angle right.
I got my fix of being amongst trees.
But not the peace and certainly not the running water of Arran.
People, dogs, bikes and horses. Not all in this photo, but in the woods in general.
Maybe I'll go again wearing boots in the Autumn.
It's just quite a long steep slog up a busy featureless road to get there.
I suppose I can get a bus on my day off and use all my energy up tramping through mud. Because there were boggy parts despite the fair weather we've had for the last week or so.
Lovely!
The one with the deer looks very similar in style to some of the sculpted seats (gotta use up those fallen/chopped down tree trunks!) in the park near here - wouldn;t be surprised if it was the same sculptor.
Once I've put this f%^&ing thesis to bed, me and you should go to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park. If you haven;t been there yet, you'll love it.
Nice park. Most of the carvings look like stumps that became available, but this one looks like it was carved elsewhere and anchored with angle iron. Maybe they wanted someplace to sit with a certain spacing between the last one and next one.
Given the spaces between tem I completely concur.
They are not uniformly spaced, but still a little more so than coincidence would allow.
Dana, you and me and the Yorkshire Sculpture Park sounds like a great day out.
SO.
The Chevin has a lovely sculpture trail. Can't fault it on that.
But when it comes to forks in the path/ major intersections on the bridleways (courses for horses) it is peculiarly mute.
They may issue maps, but I didn't see any. And the wooden signposts do not helpfully point out the Quarry Walk or the Jubilee Way or whatever they call their suggested walks on the few information boards I saw.
I didn't get lost. I got where I wanted to go, although not via the route I thought I was following at each turn. But all I wanted was a vaguely circular walk anyway.
When I decided to make my way home I didn't want to walk back down the main road. I'd seen that already and there was more to see in a Chevin kinda way.
The dotted black line denoted a path. The path went past a tearoom and WCs and even though I couldn't afford one and didn't need the other I figured it would give me a marker I could ask other walkers about. I was right.
Except.
Ex
Ept
The last lady I asked directions of (late lady, as I went back and hit her with my copy of A Feast for Crows) said amiably, "If I was you, I'd take the steps. They'll take you right into Otley."
She was right in one way. They took me into Otley.
Via a steep dizzying hell.
If I were you. Huh. That's like me trusting a stranger who says, "If I were you I'd relax with a bottle of wine tonight", not knowing (or caring to know) that it could be a horrible problem for me.
So if she was me she would know how absolutely terrified the steps made me. Descending about a mile in about 1/2 mile (I may be wrong but it's not intentional exaggeration) they are stone, tilted forwards, uneven and with an uneven tread.
I have previously documented my horror of heights, my inability to descend even normal staircases and my general fear that one day terror will render me insensate. All came into play here. I could not look beyond my feet because the further stairs just kept appearing, turn after turn. I could not look ahead because Otley was still laid out before me, like a place I could fall into.
I just had to take one step at a time, try to stop shaking and do it.
I didn't stop shaking (by the bottom that was just fatigue in my legs) but the closer I got to ground level the better I felt.
Would I do it again?
I bet you're thinking I'll say something like - would I buggery!
But yes, I will. same way I would climb St Peter's Dome in Venice, or bungee jump again. Because if things scare you this much, even if you hate them, you have to be open to beating them. And this challenge comes for free.
Photos from when I thought I was dealing with it and was able to turn around to document my [progress. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
This was just an aperitif. Note, they are earth here, not stone. And I can still see the top aka escape route.
It is locally known as Jacob's ladder.
Those aren't steps, that's a hilly path made more difficult with the addition of some pieces of wood!
There were steps later. Stone.
All tilted forwards.
Why do you think I only ever sit in the Stalls when I go to the theatre?
Not because I am rolling in money, but because I was terrified by my first ever West End trip. We had seats in the Gods, where it felt like a trip would have had me in the orchestra pit, via the two Circles below.
Footsore and sweaty, I walked past some lovely houses. Of course.
I don't think they had back gardens, because many people were out in the front.
All saying hello and acting as if a blistered women with the shakes and a wild-eyed look was completely normal of a Sunday lunchtime.
I want to live in one of these.
Someone I know and love can live in the one next door.
Form an orderly queue please.
The second pic is for Sarge, who is obviously a Wesley fan ;)
They went and did it; they bought The Black Horse out from under us. I was mere hours away from getting the finances together as well. Tchah.
Overheard a lass saying, "We'll see how long it lasts this time" so perhaps it's not the money-spinner I'd been picturing. Then again perfectly viable places can have a run of poor management.
More Tour-related decoration.
Gosh I won't recognise the place when it's all done and dusted.
Although during the two weeks after Le Grand Depart I am working my little socks off, as other Partners are getting their holidays in before schools break up and prices spike. So by the time I miss the things which I am familiar with, it will be old news.
Mum is in love with Otley.
She really wants to bring Dad here when the house finally sells. Her only worry is getting him across London. They have to come into one London station and leave from another, and although Undertoad recognised that the signage on the Tube is excellent - and Mum knows it better than the back of her hand anyway - it's hard getting a man with mobility problems and dementia on and off trains and platforms while juggling a case and bag and tickets.
I said if money isn't an issue (not megabucks, but enough not to be scared of small bills) I'll come down early and meet them at Marylebone to travel back up. I've always been more patient with Dad than Mum, just because he is my Dad and not my life partner. I can get them across London. I'm not saying it will be easy, but it will be less stress for Mum that way.
She came up first class. Never travelled on an Inter-City train before, and never first class. Don't get me wrong, the 'rents have been all over the world. You may remember that Mum went literally half a world away (Australia) on her own. But Dad was a driver until recently, so any significant distances in the UK were by car. And there is no first class between Aylesbury and London because the trip is too short (so why would you?)
She loved it. She said Dad would love it. She said she felt so important and so spoiled. And it was the weekend, so all she got was a sandwich, a muffin and a cup of tea! And we would get a taxi from Leeds because the buses are shit (her words).
Anyway, she says that Otley is perfect for Dad because you only have to walk 50 yards in any direction to find a bench, a pub, a tearoom etc. All on the flat (in the town centre at least) and lots of places are OAP friendly and accessible. And he would love seeing the planes take off from Leeds/ Bradford airport - they suddenly appear from over The Chevin. Far lower and closer than he is used to.
He gets so tired now. Possibly because he isn't eating.
One of those little individual packets of Kelloggs is two breakfasts for him these days. He gets up, showers and dresses, finds the kitchen and has a few mouthfuls. Then he has to go and sit down for a while :(
Anyway. I'm glad Mum came up on her own.
It would be wonderful if Dad comes up too, because if he does at least Mum will have an idea of what there is for him and where it it etc.
Farmer's Market yesterday.
Didn't get any useable photos because there are so many stalls packed into such a small space. No room to stand back and take a pic. This stall specialising in mushrooms was on the edge of the market. I was fascinated by the shapes and colours. The pink ones look like offal.
I don't know if you are familiar with the concept of love locks?
It's where you attach a padlock to a bridge as a sign of your love for someone.
I noticed some on the Wharfedale Bridge, the bridge I walk over nearly every Sunday to feed the ducks (not with bread!) and read on a bench and have the occasional ice-cream. So knowing Mum was coming up, and knowing she probably wouldn't know about this, I got a padlock and had it inscribed.
I stopped on the bridge and drew her attention to those already there, explaining what they were and why they were there. She thought it was really sweet. Then taa-daa! From my Mary Poppins bag I brought out ours. I did it so every time I go across the bridge I will look at it and think of home. It was like I hit her with a big love pillow.
It has our initials on it and the day she came to Otley (TC Hardware is the manufacturer, not some sort of code!)
Imagination, life is your creation...
Those monogrammed locks are brilliant. I hadn't seen that before, but it's so obvious in hindsight. What a business idea! The hardware store isn't going to get rich, but once the kids see that, they are going to also have to get the monogramming or they will look cheap. And the store makes a little extra coin.
Nice to see that shitty art cars are a worldwide thing.
Those monogrammed locks are brilliant. I hadn't seen that before, but it's so obvious in hindsight. What a business idea! The hardware store isn't going to get rich, but once the kids see that, they are going to also have to get the monogramming or they will look cheap. And the store makes a little extra coin.
I bought from one place and had it engraved in another. Even when making a loving gesture I still have to get the best deal...
Nice to see that shitty art cars are a worldwide thing.
(is this where I admit I find some parts of it well planned and whimsical? No? Okay then :bolt:)
Harrogate.
And you can't see my eyes.
Verry pretty like your Mother.
You make it look effortless, lifting that bike.
I got a padlock and had it inscribed.
I stopped on the bridge and drew her attention to those already there, explaining what they were and why they were there. She thought it was really sweet. Then taa-daa! From my Mary Poppins bag I brought out ours. I did it so every time I go across the bridge I will look at it and think of home. It was like I hit her with a big love pillow.
It has our initials on it and the day she came to Otley (TC Hardware is the manufacturer, not some sort of code!)
That's awesome!
Harrogate was great.
No problems with the bus in either direction, yay!
And the sun came out even before we left Otley. It would have been double-plus-good if we'd had the same weather the whole time Mum was up, but even just having it on one day showed her how God's Own County can look.
Harrogate is very very, darling.
But in a Yorkshire way. It's a bit like the Stockbroker Belt in terms of shops and money. These are places where the main money comes in from elsewhere - the husbands go off to work insane hours for insane amounts of money and the wives stay at home and be as effortlessly attractive as I am. Except that I don't think anyone in Harrogate is commuting to London. It's a bit precious, but precious in a Northern way, which is more down to earth. Genteel.
No-one annoyed me. That's something, what with me being a bitter old crone and all.
But of course I was with my Mum, who I've missed terribly. And we were there to have tea. And the sun was shining. I'd have had to be a dried up old cherry indeed to be grumpy.
We had tea and toast in Wethspoons before we left, even though Mum had already had breakfast the greedy fat pig :p:
Well she deserves it [ETA I meant she deserves a treat]. And you can't eat toast in front of someone without making them hungry! Also, it meant she got some little packets of marmalade; her only complaint about the B&B is that they don't have marmalade, only jam.
Mum in the sunshine.
Harrogate street scene.
In arcadia ego.
And a lady dressing a window pour le tour.
Another Wetherspoons, although we didn't go into this one.
Harrogate reminds me a little of Oxford.
Just places that caught my eye, really.
Does David Jason come to Harrogate?
Two TV tie-ins. It's been a funny old day...
Re the second photo, we sat outside the Pitcher and Piano (a chain, but a nice one) for about an hour and a half and watched Harrogate roll by. It was the right weather and the right setting and we laughed a lot.
Debated having something to eat, but decided we were better off saving ourselves for Bettys. See next and next and next posts!
Bettys Tearoom is a national treasure.
Harrogate is the original, but there are a few scattered about. Mostly in t'North.
It turns out this was the sole reason Mum wanted to come to Harrogate. I moaned about it earlier in the thread, but really it's less than 30 minutes away on a reliable bus service, so I'm so glad she twisted my arm.
The whole town is lovely and Bettys...
Well.
I can't tell you what we (and by we I mean Mum) spent. Is not cheap. But it was an occasion, and we both enjoyed it enormously. Mum says she needs new knickers and can't afford to buy them. We had a Pink Champagne Afternoon Tea. I am my mother's daughter.
She also said she probably couldn't do this with anyone else. And even if she could there is no way she would enjoy it so much. She said I'm so self-assured she can relax anywhere she goes with me because I carry it all off so well (hahaha, me! a bundle of neurosis!) and I have the spend-it-now-worry-later attitude that makes a luxury a pleasure.
[COLOR="White"]Okay she did follow it up saying that attitude also caused me a lot of problems
Yes I accept it's true[/COLOR]
Ma with menu, waiting in the queue.
We already knew what we were having thanks to a handy little thing called the internet, but as they were polite enough to hand out menus Mum was polite enough to read it.
Not me.
I skipped about taking photos.
It was about a ten minute wait.
On a Monday. On a schoolday.
Here we are!
4 x tiny sandwiches. Very plain.
But sweet FSM they were good.
The ham was just ham. No mustard, no tomato, nothing. But it was the best tiny expensive ham sandwich I have ever had. It didn't need anything else, and it knew it.
Ditto chicken. Chicken to the power of ten. Stuffing is for chickens that aren't chickeny enough.
Egg mayo (well okay, but sliced egg doesn't really work) that was eggy and creamy.
Salmon that would make a bear weep.
My only minor disappointment was the scone.
It was good.
But only good.
In that I have had better.
Maybe nothing could ever live up to those sandwiches.
Cream and jam of course.
Then the top tier had three little cakes.
A cappucino one, a mini fruit tart and something choux. How awful to have forgotten!
Oh, these are our individual portions, not for us to share.
Photo shows only chicken sandwich left - fallen apart because of my greedy fingers.
Second shows a good strong cup of tea (poured by me to my taste) and little cakie from the top tier.
Looking down into the tearoom where we sat - the table behind the lady in the apron.
And the upper seating area, which we didn't think was as nice :blush:
Shop and take-home counters.
I never understood the going to tea thing, but looking at Betty's, I get it. I'd like to eat there.
I don't mind the art itself, it's when people try to keep using them as a functional vehicle that they get annoying. They're a road distraction, and you never know when some piece is going to come unglued at high speeds and fly back at you. Plus they inevitably get tattered and gross from being out in the elements, so they're not respecting it as a car OR as real art.
I'm probably just bitter because we have a ton of those things in this hippie, free-expression, prove-your-uniqueness-quick-before-it's-too-late city.
I never understood the going to tea thing, but looking at Betty's, I get it. I'd like to eat there.
Do take the time to win the Lottery first...
It's not like having tea at Claridges or the Savoy, but it isn't cheap.
As I say though, what it does it does exceptionally. Everything except the scone was the best example of its type I've ever had.
I don't mind the art itself, it's when people try to keep using them as a functional vehicle that they get annoying.
Good point well made. I saw it parked and was just :eyebrow: and :eek: and :rolleyes: by it.
Sorry, I am still going.
Off to Leeds to say bye-bye to Mum.
I waited at the barrier to wave her off. She saw me when her carriage went by and waved back. I should've mooned her. Instead I cried when I knew she was properly out of sight. How stupid at my age.
Then I wandered around Leeds looking for a bus. Because Leeds is shit bus-wise.
The only nice things I found were Tour related.
Got a free Miffy keyring from a lovely Dutch lady who was part of a team promoting Utrecht, where the Tour starts next year.
The Black Prince looking less severe than usual in his cosy new jumper.
There are many worthies in City Square.
Statues of worthies I mean.
All male. All clothed.
Is only ladies who get their titties out.
Because they're water-nymphs and it's art, okay.
I don't mind a bit of nekkidness, don't get me wrong. It's just every now and then it's one of those things that make you go hmmm...
Oh, I signed up for a life drawing class on Mondays. No word yet but they said they will call me when I am needed. Yeah, I'm not actually doing the drawing.
From when I went to pick Mum up.
The chap played the fiddle very well, but the dancing devil was what swung it for me.
Had to have a photo, but he'd have had some change put in his hat regardless.
There are many worthies in City Square.
Statues of worthies I mean.
All male. All clothed.
Is only ladies who get their titties out.
Because they're water-nymphs and it's art, okay.
I don't mind a bit of nekkidness, don't get me wrong. It's just every now and then it's one of those things that make you go hmmm...
Oh, I signed up for a life drawing class on Mondays. No word yet but they said they will call me when I am needed. Yeah, I'm not actually doing the drawing.
Ladies when déshabillé, in statue form or otherwise, are generally more aesthetically pleasing than the male form.
Apart from anything else, the lack of naked male statues probably has something to do with the Great Fig Leaf Famine of the 1870s.:D
Don't you bring the Iron Duke into it, or I'ma have to come back down to Bucks and give you a paddling!
I very nearly went to Apsley House just to have a gander at Napoleon's cock.
Don't you bring the Iron Duke into it, or I'ma have to come back down to Bucks and give you a paddling!
I very nearly went to Apsley House just to have a gander at Napoleon's cock.
:):):)
Thanks for the photo tour, Sundae. I always enjoy your great picture threads.
Harrogate seems to be a similar place to Southport if somewhat grander.
That sentence alone is probably enough to have me declared
persona non grata in that small corner of Merseyside that is forever Lancashire.
I believe that Southport was the home of wealthy industrialists, merchants and shipping owners who made their money in Liverpool.
Just guesswork, but in the case of Harrogate I suspect that mill owner wealth was behind the development of the town.
It certainly looks a prosperous place but, as we all know, where there's muck there's brass.
It's a spa town.
Thanks for that, Dani. I'm grateful to you.
(Note to self: Never assume).
Mind you: many of the wealthy visitors to the waters and other entertainments no doubt made their money from textiles and the like.
I looked it up and apparently, after a bit of a decline after the first world war it got its second wind as an administrative centre during the second world war, with lots of government offices evacuated there from London.
As promised, the Tour de France hit Otley with a great big French oui today.
I was out and about early, because my chat problème wanted and demanded his usual cat-milk breakfast, which I had stupidly run out of.
So.
Couple of shots of closed roads and empty supermarket carpark.
The shop was open but inaccessible to cars (the two in the picture must have been there since before 05.00). Shop consequently empty of the usual Saturday shoppers. Good news for me of course.
The Bowling Green which I think was open.
No-one outside at that time of day, hard to tell.
Oh and it was definitely still raining at gone 05.00, hence the wet streets.
Dry by 08.00 though.
Some hardy souls had already staked a pitch by the side of the road.
The large screen in the Market Square earlier in the day.
Great for people from outside the area who wanted to be in the middle of things, and great for those without a TV!
Her Maj was happy to stay inside the office downstairs from me.
I came back from my cat-milk mission to shower, change and have a wee.
Back out for
the passing of Le Caravane (Cellar post).
People were watching from every possible vantage point.
The sun was out by then.
And the crazy Canucks.
So having watched them set off on screen I went back home briefly.
Photos from my front room window, up and down the street.
Was back in place for the actual Tour to come through although I got no useable photos - didn't honestly expect to.
It was more about the sheer pleasure of the day.
Feeling like a part of something I have followed for years.
And still being able to eat and drink at home and go for a wee when I wanted to :D
From beginning to end the crowd cheered everything that went past.
Police on motorbikes, ambulances, Tour cars.
A huge roar went up when the Yorkshire Tea vehicle came through as part of le caravane, and an even larger one when McCains Chips came through. And then we all dissolved in laughter at the idea of cheering a promotional chip-van. They weren't even throwing out freebies! Although given my experience with the inflatable pillow from Ibis Budget hotels I think that was just as well.
I felt like crying sometimes. The crowd mood was so positive and everyone - even when they were asking eachother daft questions I longed to respond to - felt involved. People here don't even need to be asked if they are proud of being English (although they are Yorkshire first, English second).
When the national anthem played on screen in the Market Square as part of the opening ceremony, people joined in spontaneously. This is not British at all, at least not my experience of it. The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge had previously been applauded - for being on TV, not for being in front of us. When Otley was mentioned as being part of the route there was another cheer.
People wanted to clap and cheer and whistle and shout, and anything would do and did.
People had their faces painted, silly hats on, damn near every person had some yellow on somewhere. It was like being back at the London Olympics.
Dad is in very poor health at the moment.
I am so very worried about him, and not being able to go back because of work and finances and because I have to accept I've moved away. This morning was a blessed release from all forms of worry and I deliberately put everything out of my mind for a few hours.
Great town Sundae!
Thanks, hon.
I didn't reply in the other thread as I saw you'd made your way here.
What am I going to do now the town isn't Tour-crazy?
It will be weird.
Y'all have to start visiting to cheer me up.
My old friend and co-worker, from like 10-15 years ago, was just reporting on the Tour going through her town on Facebook! and I was like WTF!!! I didn't even know you moved north, and apparently you've moved very close to where my e-friend has moved.
Harrowgate I think. I'm just checking.
Harrogate. Yes. How about that, ten miles away.
The internet shrinks the world!
Attached is a
BBC link which includes a photo from someone far more handy with a camera than I am (credit: Holly Crabtree - not copying the photo just in case) showing the Tour going through Otley.
Okay it's the other side of town to me, but it shows what I saw going past in very similar surroundings, and that the people out to cheer were not simply an anomaly.
2.5m people were estimated to have turned out over the weekend.
And there is another Stage in England to go tomorrow.
Pretty amazing given that the estimate for the whole Tour is 12m spectators during 22 days riding. Okay - have to be fair and say that most of the route is much more sparsely populated!
Damn I wish I had a TV. Nothing compares to watching the Tour in terms of geography, countryside, tactics and blood sweat and gears. Or at least nothing legal and televised. And it goes on for so long you can afford to just catch up on highlights some days when you really have to do things like earning a living. Or time trials.
Looked to me like the best view was from your window. How long does it take the actual race to go by... a minute? less? I'm thinking of the people who were staked out when you came back from shopping... that's dedication. I hope those people had a party or something to go to after the race blows through.
I would have had a better view from my flat, but I went down for le caravane for the sheer fun of trying to catch freebies, and the spectacle.
As previously mentioned, I did. And gave them all away.
Then I walked into the Market Square to watch the big screen as I have no TV.
Both experiences made it so clear to me that watching it with other people would make it so much more worthwhile. I spend far too much time on my own. to the extent of being isolated, The leaders and the peleton would have gone through just as quickly if I'd been alone in my flat, I'd have had maybe an extra five seconds.
But I'd have missed being part of a huge celebration of something I've loved and followed for over 20 years.
I'm not a sports snob. I don't care if most people were there for Otley, for Yorkshire, for England. I don't care if they don't follow the rest of Le Tour. They were there and they shouted and cheered and cheered and laughed and blew whistles and cheered and it was massive. Word.
Although I avoid it like the plague, I can understand you wanting to be part of crowd, most people do. It's the reason people go to Times Square on New Years Eve, Mardi Gras in Rio, or large sporting events when they would get a better view(with replays) at home on TV.
The obvious compromise would be to invite a couple dozen of them up to your place for a better view. :haha:
So. I said in another thread that I would be going out today.
And I did.
Decided to give Leeds another chance.
Me on bus.
Leeds market (lots of photos of Leeds market)
Details of covered market building.
What's the difference between sparkly and gaudy?
Tigers.
YMMV
This building is beautiful.
If you's offended by fish, look away.
I like fish and can deal with and photograph them dead, raw, bloody and/ or laid out in amusing fashion. I even like the smell.
Indulge me. I'm posting a two or three.
General photo & detail.
Now I did not expect to see game on a fish stall.
And the babbits are a fraction of the price you pay for them in Aylesbury.
Given a freezer and some £ (and world enough and time) I'd proper stock up on them.
I'd love some pigeon pie too.
Busted. Yorkshire lad in the process of giving me a thumbs up when he saw my camera. And I were quick too!
Limes, have you been holding out on me?!
Will expect some Scottish squid next time I come to visit. I'll cook it of course. Then again, we may need a passport to visit by then...
Last fishy post, promise.
Lookit them prawns! No wonder Merkins are puzzled by the tiny little things we call prawns generally.
And lookit them crabs!
Last time I saw crabs like that I had to break out the petroleum jelly.
I love the fishy pics! Strange to say we don't get that fabulous array of fishy loveliness on my little island ....
Sent by thought transference
Don't worry, I know that.
Gosh I fancy a gumbo now...
Anyway, on with the market.
Fruit & dragons.
Do they actually sell wild rabbit or is that a label for "organically raised?"
I did say this place was beautiful, right?
Do they actually sell wild rabbit or is that a label for "organically raised?"
You have to have a special licence to sell "game". They must have one to sell pigeon.
Given the price, my guess is that they are shot, then inspected.
Supermarkets price rabbits about the same as pork, so they are definitely farmed. We ate rabbit as children because it was cheap.
Leeds is a multi-cultural city.
Coming from all-white, alright Otley it's weird to be back in the real world.
More of this later.
Oh yes, there's more.
There were a fair few Afro-Caribbean stalls, but like the fruit stalls I have to say in photographic terms if you've seen one you've seen them all.
Sweetie stall.
I do not even know what language this is written in.
I promise I am not disrespecting Lola Bunny by suggesting she might recognise it; I worked with a lady from Hong Kong who could pick out words in Japanese. In the same way I can tell French from Spanaish from Italian form German etc (no, don't even ask about Scandanavia).
So just for shits and giggles anyway, and in the mild hope Lola Bunny could pinpoint the region beyond simply Asia.
Oh and it smelled gorge.
If I hadn't had two vouchers burning a hole in my [purse I honestly would have.
I think it almost definitely is, I was just interested in why they specified "Chinese Roast Duck".
Like we (over here) might say "American style pancakes".
There are effectively two makets. One inside, where the stalls are miniature shops which don't change, and the more traditional pitches outside. Yesterday was apparently the Asian market.
Some standard food fruit stalls, run by typical white British traders, "One bagee banana one pound come on one bagee banana!"
Some sweets and technology stalls. And lots and lots and lots of clothes, 90% of which were unpriced. Uh-huh.
Two things I would have bought if it had been payday/ I'd been earning overtime this month.
I love me a kaftan. Inside the house only, but they're so easy to throw on, modest and yet light. Going to pick up the post from downstairs, to hang washing up to dry in the window, to generally walk around with the windows open before getting dressed. Can't get them for less than £25 in Aylesbury, although I suspect the Indian/ Pakistani population have their own sources.
I also loved these cover ups. Hide flabby arms without actually wearing too much.
Why didn't I find shops like this when I was young and svelte?
Oh yes, because I lived in Aylesbury at the time and was scared to express myself :rolleyes:
We're away from the market now.
And into the world of creepy dolls.
Yes, you do know they want your eyes, and will gouge them out with their tiny cold plastic hands as soon as you are asleep.
Only slightly less creepy dogs. And a cow.
Creepy because I saw the prices. The chihuahua is £129. And no, I didn't miss out a decimal point there. When I win the lottery I still will not buy a £129 toy chihuahua.
I can't speak about the whole of West Yorkshire, but certainly the places I have been so far look after their arcades. Beautiful, functional and conducive to both small independent traders and very high-end fashions stores (where they have no intention of piling them high and selling them cheap).
Slightly less grand arcade.
And a real dog.
I was all over the internet on Tuesday night, looking for vouchers and freebies.
Turns out some students were graduating on Wednesday so there were plenty of deals available all expiring that day. Suits me!
So first, off to the Cornmarket to Primo's Gourmet Hotdogs, which even before the voucher would have worked out a similar price to McDonalds, and was so much nicerer.
You queued at a canteen style counter, picked up your own cold drink from a chiller, placed your order and were given a painted marker to place on your table. The only form of waiter service was when your meal was brought to you.
I chose to eat outside.
Had a Route 66. With the deal it was worth the money, but I can't say it completely lived up to my expectations given the description.
Large beef hotdog topped with spicy chilli beef, Monterey Jack cheese, mixed peppers, jalapenos and Frank's Hot Sauce.
Primo's is in the old Corn Exchange.
Another great example of Leeds treating old buildings with respect rather than just bulldozing them.
Thanks for the great travelogue, Sundae. Keep 'em coming.
By the way, you look much, much better. I trust that you feel that way?
Great set of pictures.
I love the old ornate stuff. Like those cast iron dragon brackets. Very cool.
Yes, your personal travelogue is the most excellent adventure since Bill and Ted's. :cheerldr:
Expect more photos soon! Had a lovely surprise today when Sundae arrived unexpectedly in my village :)
I do not even know what language this is written in.
I promise I am not disrespecting Lola Bunny by suggesting she might recognise it;
.
No worries. Bruce is right. That is Chinese. Btw, I really enjoy all your pictures, and I appreciate you taking the time to describe everything. I've taken alot of pix but never posted them because I was too lazy. :-(
Thanks for not being offended, hon.
I should have "Bruce is always right" tattooed on my butt - or somewhere!
So, back to the Corn Exchange.
Beautiful as it was I did manage to get lost in it!
Blame the drugs.
No, really, Dani can attest that the cocktail of legal prescription drugs I am on do make me a little dazed and confused and more than a little unstable on the old pins at times.
Found my way out eventually.
I had a wonderful wander.
There was a certain type of sandal I have really been coveting, and I saw a pair on sale for £10. Could NOT justify the purchase of course, but hey - may as well try them on, right?
So glad I did. They hid the thinnest part of my ankles and made my legs - which I don't really have any hang-ups about - looks as wide as the fattest part of my calves all the way down.
Phew, no longer lust after them!
They'd only have given me blisters anyway.
After a while I'd walked off my hotdog and was ready for round two.
Yo! Sushi. In the Leeds branch of Harvey Nichols dahling. There is even a doorman.
And sadly I look very yellow in the photo, but I hope you will accept and understand that it's almost completely a trick of the light. See other photos. Also see the yellow patch on the doorman.
Oh, being a working man I had to take the first shot and not keep taking pics until I was happy, hence the guerilla nature of the photo.
Again, voucher a-go-go.
Although given an unlimited budget, I could have stacked up the plates big time.
Yo! Sushi is a Japanese restaurant where food goes past on a conveyor belt and the cost of the dish is determined by the colour of the plate. The bill is calculated by the pile of dishes you leave.
You do pay for water - still or fizzy - but once you have paid you refill as much as you'd like. With a few smothered burps if you're into the fizzy stuff, just to make room (tip: smile and let them out gently)
Everyone was lovely to me.
The chef was sneakily checking my reaction to the dishes (I was one of only three people at the counter, everyone else had opted to sit in booths and order from the menu - WHY?!) The waitress, who only really had to bring me an empty glass, talked to me about The Game of Thrones. The Manager took my photo when she saw me struggling to get a selfie and also complimented my jewellery when I paid.
It made a simple cheap treat into a wonderful occasion. I only wish I could have had company - I've written before about taking Mum for the first time and then the two of us taking Dad.
Yesterday I decided to surprise Dani.
I figured the worst that could happen would be that she wasn't in/ had left the country etc and then I would walk around Northowram taking all the photos she has denied you.
Because the place if definitely photogenic.
Anyway I called her from the pub garden just across the road from her house.
Because it's bad enough turning up unexpected anyway, let alone actually on the doorstep.
It took a few seconds for her to realise I really was just across the road, and then she was kind enough to sound delighted.
So out she came, with Carrot.
I'd bought him a bone from a petshop (working on the assumption that it must be safe) but Dana very sensibly monitored his consumption anyway and took it away before it was completely devoured so he didn't make himself ill. Boy is so good-natured he had no problem with this.
Lovely pub.
We stayed in the garden with our Cokes, and when school kicked out it was colonised by children, who I realise I still miss in my life. Although my TA side came out when a young lad broke a branch off a tree he was climbing. It was almost definitely by accident, but he wasn't showing any remorse. So I had a quiet word. Well if you don't step in and ask, "Do you think that was a good thing to do?" then you're failing the child, because his mother was nowhere near and completely unaware. I felt horrible about it afterwards if that helps...
Sign in Ladies toilet on Halifax station.
Even I don't need to pull that badly.
Dani, with Carrot both looking cute.
As I'm not back at work until Monday I am glorying in having nail varnish on.
Dani admired it, so I had her take a photo. Blown vein bruise almost all gone now - you'd have to know it was there to see it.
That's Brianna's ring btw.
A better photo of Carrot.
Dani walked me to a point which is so close to her house; it's like my walk to work.
Gorgeous.
So hard to take photos of landscapes and do them justice though.
Suffice to say it was a deep, steep drop into a beautiful agrarian landscape.
Note how Carrot is always well under control.
Much respect. Dani is a very responsible dog owner and obviously balances the specific needs of her chosen dog breed with social responsibility.
And Carrot is a lovely dog.
Very licky - although not in a Timmy way ;)
Beautiful sky on the way home.
I didn't just sound delighted, I was delighted :)
What a lovely surprise! I'd had a horrible couple of days with some kind of stomach bug (following on from mum having a horrendous four days with presumably the same bug) and was feeling a little at a loose end - better, but not really sure what to do with myself and not much in the mood to work. Hanging out with Sundae for an afternoon was a tonic - there are very few people in this world that I relax completely with and she's one of them.
Also - she brought ready made cold meals which meant I had my first proper food in two days and it was delish!
And Carrot is a lovely dog.
Very licky - although not in a Timmy way ;)
He was very licky - that's because he'd clearly fallen in love with you. He likes most people, but he was
very taken with you. And I don't think it was just that you brought him a delicious crunchy bone either :p
There's something about your general air that he took to. He's a very good judge of character.
Dani walked me to a point which is so close to her house; it's like my walk to work.
Gorgeous.
So hard to take photos of landscapes and do them justice though.
Suffice to say it was a deep, steep drop into a beautiful agrarian landscape.
Gorgeous.
Sundae, I love that white dress you have on. I've always been a sucker for eyelet embroidery.
Dana, I keep forgetting that Carrot is fully-grown now. He's adorable.
He is adorable :)
Sundae was surprised when she met him though - she'd imagined him being bigger from his photos - I think that's just because he looks much bigger in my teeny tiny house, where I take most pics of him.
Carrotchops is currently crunching up the second half of the bone Sundae brought for him :)
Y'know, one of the lovely things about Sundae visiting was seeing the village through someone else's eyes. I know it's pretty (though in places it isn't - and having seen Otley I'm a little jeal about how picturesque and villagey that is!) but I also take it a bit for granted too, having been here for some years.
The valley shown in that pic from the rocks is Shibden Valley and it is beautiful. One of the things I love about living here is seeing it change across the seasons. The walk through the valley is lovely, but I am slightly wary when walking there because every so often a sinkhole opens up and swallows a cow! (ok, once one swallowed a cow - but there have been three or four sinkholes in the 17 years I've lived in the area).
He was very licky - that's because he'd clearly fallen in love with you. He likes most people, but he was very taken with you.
Oddly I have a winning way with the two species I have decided to avoid - dogs and children. Although I have a genuine affection for both when intelligent and well-trained. But I know I gained Carrot's affection (aside from the bone) purely by your attitude towards me.
Gorgeous.
Isn't she?
Sundae, I love that white dress you have on. I've always been a sucker for eyelet embroidery.
It's a supermarket dress, bought on discount. AND I LOVE IT. It's appeared in at least three photo threads and been worn more than that.
Y'know, one of the lovely things about Sundae visiting was seeing the village through someone else's eyes.
Yeah, over-accomplished brainiac. Take some damn photos already.
Seriously, I could fill a thread with Northowram pics. But then I could fill a thread with photos of my own toenails...
And thanks to all who have responded and those I know who read and don't feel the need to comment.
The walk through the valley is lovely, but I am slightly wary when walking there because every so often a sinkhole opens up and swallows a cow! (ok, once one swallowed a cow - but there have been three or four sinkholes in the 17 years I've lived in the area).
Dana ~ Carrot, Carrot, get help, go get help!
Carrot~ I'd like to make an appointment with Dr Phil, please.
:blush:
Looks like you had a great time!
Sent by thought transference
I've been training the pigeons in the park.
Mostly I go to feed the ducks, the swans and the two amusingly honking geese.
But the pigs get a look-in too.
First you feed them from the palm of your hand at their level.
Repeat until you have a crowd.
Next you raise your hand so they have to stretch to reach the food.
No photo, so one of the patient ducks and swans also being fed.
And then you raise your hand so that they have to fly.
Is special.
Just gratuitous pigeon shots now really.
OMG look at you training the pigeons! That's awesome.
You know, when you have a spare day (and a spare £4.50 entrance fee) you should come over here and we can go to Shibden Hall. It's years since I went round it - and I know they've restored and opened up more of it since then.
Beautiful place and the park it's in is great (it's the park we walk the dogs in most days).
The house itself is a hodgepodge of styles as it was added to over the centuries, but the core of it is a half timbered manor house built in 1420.
The gothic tower was added by Anne Lister in about 1820 as a library (the Listers had the house from the early 1600s to the early 20th century).
This is what the wiki hs to say about Anne Lister:
Throughout her life she kept diaries which chronicled the details of her daily life, including her lesbian relationships, her financial concerns, her industrial activities and her work improving Shibden Hall.[1] Her diaries contain more than 4,000,000 words and about a sixth of them—those concerning the intimate details of her romantic and sexual relationships—were written in code.[1] The code, derived from a combination of algebra and Ancient Greek, was deciphered in the 1930s.[2][3] Lister is often called "the first modern lesbian" for her clear self-knowledge and openly lesbian lifestyle.[4] Called "Fred" by her lover and "Gentleman Jack" by Halifax residents, she suffered from harassment for her sexuality, and recognised her similarity to the Ladies of Llangollen, whom she visited.[5]
Dana ~ Carrot, Carrot, get help, go get help!
Carrot~ I'd like to make an appointment with Dr Phil, please.
:blush:
Hahahahahah. I missed this when it was posted.
Me too!
- "What's that Carrot? Dani's fallen down a well?"
- "Wuff! Wuff!"
- "Oh you were just warning me that there are cats walking across the yard, fair enough."
Shibden Hall looks marvellous (do we go on the bus via Hebden Bridge?!)
May have to put it on hold for a few months though; with no overtime and no second job thanks to my health, things are going to be pretty tough for a while. You know how stupid I am with money. Hey I'm feeling miserable about my financial worries... I know, l'll go to Leeds for the day and eat out! Yay!
Note to self - sort life out now I have some things to look forward to.
I refuse to completely give up on my pigeon-minions though.
I'll switch to that horrible tracing paper style toilet paper if it means I can go out on a Sunday and walk in the fresh air and enjoy feathered companionship.
Hey, who knows when you'll have to be rescued from Orthanc?
Oh wait, that was eagles wasn't it...
Not on the bus no :P It's about an 11 minute walk from my house to the park.
Aha, so you do want me to wear comfortable shoes at least.
I knew it.
So, off to Leeds to the hospital yesterday (scheduled appointment).
Lots to deal with, walked back into the city overwhelmed and trying not to cry.
I went back to old behaviour. Not the clink clink glig glug type, the wander around with the camera type.
It really did help.
I took some photos in Leeds back when I met Dani there on a very grey day soon after I moved here. They turned out as drab and miserable as I felt on the way home (not Dani's fault!) so I deleted most of them.
What a difference sunshine makes, and seeing life through a lense can make life easier to view.
I'm guessing Peachy Keens was closed as it was the only outside space unpopulated.
Tea for me outside All Bar One. Was sorely tempted by the olives, but I could have had a whole meal for the same price.
I didn't know the symbol of Leeds was the owl.
There were too many popping up in statutory and on signs for me to miss it this time. It only took me five visits to work it out...
Golden owl and a view of a really well planned and attractive water feature. It was surrounded by workers on their lunch breaks, enjoying both sunshine and shade and eating both shop-bought and home made food.
Not "my" hospital, which is St James's, but the far more beautiful Leeds General Infirmary.
It sadly has a slight taint to its name now thanks to Jimmy Savile, in the same way as my local hospital (Stoke Mandeville).
Some added info for you.
I knew it had to be designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott, or at least someone working fully under his influence. I'm a fan of Gothic Revival architecture and have mentioned before how much I adore the Midland Grand Hotel. The resemblance is undeniable.
Had no idea it tied in with The Royal Bucks in Aylesbury regarding Florence Nightingale though. Learn something new every day,
St George does actually have a face under his visor.
Bizarrely, the sunlight makes it look creepier by virtue of looking empty.
More owls, pigeons and the lady on the (same) war memorial - actually clothed this time. Well done Leeds. Perhaps because she's supposed to be Victory? Victory doesn't get her boobies out for just anyone you know.
This little grotesque is sad. He knows he's not a gargoyle with a real job and can't work out how to grow up to be one.
Larger shot to give perspective. Leeds architecture deserves a better photographer than me.
Skelly Bob's big brother.
VERY big brother.
I dread to think of the postage cost of trying the send him round the world.
Street chess game.
Note the chap in the panama hat who finds the art gallery cafe and gift shop a more worthy photo opportunity. Each to their own. Had he only turned round he could have had a photo of ME!
Speaks for itself really.
Many of these in the UK of course. Because we did so bloody well hahaha.
But this is the first I've seen with a camera in my hand.
Leeds is famous, as is St James.
I can date these back to August as this was only here during the school holidays. Leeds City Centre had a beach theme.
I went back every time I had an excuse (appointments etc). Was great fun.
- What's the funfair equivalent of a greengrocer's apostrophe?
- Dem's the rules, right. Didn't need them anyway, it was conveniently situated in front of the raised terrace of the Cuthbert Broderick* pub. A nice clean cheap Wetherspoons (at least during the day, never been at night).
* Architect who designed most of the square in which the pub and beach/ fair is situated.
Damn. No idea why they are so small.
Have to upload them at another location and tinker about with them on Irfanview there. Then save and email. Then open email and save here, then posts.
And they become minute in the process.
Will hold off with the others until I get this sorted.
Back in happier times...
When I was in rehab, Mum and Dad came up to see me.
I've just been uploading some of the photos from her camera for her.
Me with my Halloween black eyes (not the full make up, so as not to "show Mum up")
And us out to dinner.
She'd be really cross if she saw I'd posted this one :lol:
She was the only one who had a dessert though.
Next morning we went to The Alchemist. Breakfast for me, toast for Mum (despite having had a Full English breakfast - girl just loves her toast!)
I know the fat on the bacon is undercooked. It is, even by English standards. So I dissected the sandwich and cut it all off. It was jolly yummy after that though.
Mum had a Peach Bellini because she loves her cocktails. I think Dad had an Irish coffee. This was Brunch really, remember.
I had a non-alcoholic Mint Julep which was absolutely lovely.
The restaurant/ bar/ cocktail lounge is right at the top of one of the poshest shopping centres in Leeds. beautiful views, but too chilly to sit outside that morning despite the sun.
Dad taking his own photos (lord alone knows where they ended up, filed somewhere obscure I guess because he doesn't know either)
And the view down to the Cornmarket.
Another beautiful shot from the balcony ;)
Mum and Dad outside St Annes'.
Thought you might like to see some photos of Leeds.
I'm here Monday-Friday on my latest attempt to sort myself out, and came in on Saturday too this week.
Detoured via Millenium Square for the first time in ages, to find they are having a Winter fair called
Ice Cube.
Walking up to the Square I'm thinking, "Hello? What's going on here then?"
Oh, right...
For a while I was consumed with envy at the sight of all these happy people having fun which I couldn't afford.
Then I remembered that I had a weekly bus pass and was able to get out of the flat and make all my appointments. And I had enough on my debit card to buy lunch.
Ice skating prices. Not that I wanted to ice skate alone.
But I would have gone on the Sky Rider.
Thanks for those Sundae.
Great pictures, as ever.
The toboggan run doesn't make for a very exciting photo, but the children on it were having a marvellous time.
The mini rollercoaster looks amazeballs in the sunshine, and the parent and child combos also seemed to be having the time of their lives. The children were screaming and raising their hands, the parents just looked a bit ill :cool:
Despite counting my blessings, I wasn't sanguine enough to take a photo of the food stalls.
Instead I headed off to the library to catch up on emails and the Cellar.
Met this chap on the stairs. Sadly he was already attached.
Then off to the bus stop. The skellies were as surprised as I was to note that Valentine's Day is coming round again, and none of us have managed to find any body to love... Oh, FTR I'm at my parents' on the 14th, so don't send all my flowers and cards to Otley ;)
Off on the bus home.
Took the long slow bus as it got me home later.
The chap on the stairs, what is he made out of?
Stone.
Sorry, that's as far as my knowledge takes me.
I don't want to tread on Sundae's toes, but I thought that there might be something of interest in these two sites.
Although it doesn't describe the material as anything other than stone, this site has some further information about the dog(s).
The mystery of Leeds Central Library
More here:
The Secret Library.God damn it, I still don't know why the emaciated dogs. :mad:
Yesterday I went to Hebden Bridge. I've been meaning to go since I moved here, and since the weather was due to be good and it was the weekend I made my move. I could have gone by bus, but the train was more convenient and I still got to see the countryside.
The town has a reputation as a bit of an arts centre, although a local friend tells me it's really quite set in it's ways and hasn't done anything "alternative" for years.
Anyway, it was a good day out. Typical small Yorkshire town, with some dirty hippy stuff munching around the edges. On a Spring day it was lovely, but I imagine on a hot Summer day it would be a complete joy. Lots and lots of LOTS of coffeeshops, cafes, pubs, eateries. Plenty of open spaces, and a river running through it. Although Peter says it has (or used to have) the highest suicide rate per head of population in the country. Thanks to the fact that one side of the valley is never sunlit and the effect of dirty hippy values and liberal parents sanctioning drug use... And no, he's not a Tory councillor, he works in the music industry!
I love galleries, bridges and interconnected buildings.
No idea what or why these need their own bridge.
A mill.
Two shop windows.
I was going to splash out and treat myself to a mug from the second shop. It was a cat lovers mug and had pictures of different breeds on - including a Singapura! Never seen that before. It made me happy-sad, and I knew I was meant to have it.
No.
It was bone china and £18.99.
Nonononononono.
And no, he's not a Tory councillor, he works in the music industry!
.
Like around 30% of Hebdenites :P
I had lunch instead.
Much cheaper and no risk of breaking it.
As I was tired of drinking fizzy pop I asked if the bar had any alcohol free wine or beer. I felt like a proper grown up sitting outside in the sunshine with a big meaty burger and a beer, rather than slurping down de-caff tea and a stale cake.
I don't think they'll mind me telling you, but lunch was courtesy of a Dwellar, who knew of my plans and approved them. I had a really tough week last week and this was my treat.
Like around 30% of Hebdenites :P
:lol:
The place I was sat outside of, and the view.
I even didn't mind the dogs on the next table. I even felt bad for tormenting them with the smell of my burger - they were so well behaved.
I sat here for the best part of an hour, intermittently reading and watching the world go by. I felt at peace and it was wonderful.
It was lovely inside too, very open and airy, but there was an open fire. That plus the sun coming in through the windows would have been too soporific for me. I'm also not secure enough in my sobriety to sit in a bar for a long period of free time. Nice place though, I would heartily recommend it.
I don't know if this bridge is THE bridge of Hebden Bridge. But it's a central one, and the ducks are very smug and well-fed. I didn't have my duck food with me, but they may have been spoiled by artisan bread over the years.
Typical dwellings close to the centre.
Rather beautiful I thought.
See right near the top of the hill on the righthand photo - that's roundabout where Jan and J lived when they were in Heb.
All the photos are taken from my phone btw.
My little, cheap phone.
I will find my camera one day. When my broken mind is more healed.
A bank which has stayed a bank. Unusual these days. Lots of cashpoints in Hebden. Well, even dirty hippies have to make a living. Actually I found it all reasonably priced and fun for window shopping. But then I've been to Camden Lock.
One of the reasons I had to visit ASAP was reading a recent Peter Robinson book. I like Inspector Banks, and Mum and I started reading them when I lived in Aylesbury just because the author has the same name as my Dad. Now I find myself living in the vicinity of Eastvale (fictional North Yorkshire town where his books are set).
The one I read recquired Banks to visit Hebden Bridge and it reminded me that Dana had spoken of it too. I forgot that J had lived there Dani. It's a great place.
After I wore out my looking eyes (and walked off my meat-drunk) I called Peter and he picked me up and drove me to his house in Sowerby Bridge. No photos of that, but I was invited to dinner - which I had to decline - and also have an open invite to go back any time and partake of the sofabed. An offer I intend to take up in the Summer.
So, Dana, when we gonna do the Yorkshire Sculpture Park?
I enjoy your travel pics in England very much.
You seem to find the places that are not just ferris wheels
and government buildings that Merkins seem to like.
In your post 360, I liked that you assured us of your EtOH-free drink.
But it was the tray that carried that beer that got more of my attention.
It fit my image of an "old England forest" where a ancient tree grew,
was hewn, and eventually the last part was turned into a serving tray.
So please don't tell me it wasn't wood, but was some modern plastic.
I'm really glad things are going well for you...
Thank you Sundae! I love these threads.
That a nice looking old bridge.
I'm going on holiday!
Well, I'm staying in a hotel in Leeds because I got a good deal.
And I get to dye my hair in a decent well-lit place AND walk around nekkid and all that and everything.
Photos will follow. Not of nekkidness. Soz.
Photos will follow. Not of nekkidness. Soz.
Ah shucks. But your adoring public demands nekkid pix.
My little, cheap phone.
That "little, cheap phone" takes some pretty dang nice pics.
But it was the tray that carried that beer that got more of my attention... So please don't tell me it wasn't wood, but was some modern plastic.
it was a proper piece of wood, I promise. Serving as both plate and tray.
Thanks for the other compliments folks.
It's easier to find things to photograph here than it is to get them uploaded!
Sorry, this is far too large.
I'm trying to find a way to upload my photos without having the internet at home. Even though I should and lovely people have tried to make sure I can.
But as it's on here now I may as well keep it there.
Ilkely, from the bus window.
You terrible people. If you knew the hoops I jumped through to accede your wishes... And Dana you really should know better. I excused Carruthers because he's a Southern softie, but really. (Yes it was in my head the whole time!)
Anyway.
Finishing off the Hebden Bridge set.
Me in my tourist t-shirt. I'm not as manic as I look, it just took a while to get the phone aligned properly.
I was in Skipton, which my phone's auto-correct will simply not recognise (not on phone now, thank FSM). I went there because it's the end of the line bus-wise and I needed a day out. Took myself off for a little jaunt to hospital last weekend. Before I actually hurt myself this time. Progress, see? So I was tired of bed and bedroom and all that.
Skipton has lots of brass (meaning money).
Which includes chi-chi cake shops.
But what this shop did, I think they did well. Not as well as Ali of course. And the proof would be in the eating, which I didn't, cakies not being my thing.
One of the lovely little arcades that Yorkshire seems to do so well.
It's not all it looks though. I had on a jumper (sweater) and jacket, but underneath was my Hebden Bridge t-shirt. HB is "known" for having a large and voiciferous lesbian population. Dani and I have joked about it in person and even on here.
I have a grade one undercut hairstyle. So when I skipped out of the teashop I was in, to go to the Post Office - without putting my outer garments on - I was catcalled twice in the street because of my presumed sexual orientation.
Little teenage f*ckers. Had I not been feeling so jolly I'd have ended up in prison.
And yes, in a way I invited comment because of my t-shirt.
But no, No, NO.
You are welcome to your personal opinion about my supposed sexuality. But you are NOT entitled to shout across the street about it.
Where there's muck there's brass.
Canalside quiet.
So another weekend day to fill.
I went to the local carboot sale. I know I've mentioned it before, but I had about £7 in my pocket this time, so the world was my mollusc.
It was bright but cold.
I've been caught out before; Spring is not generally kind here and the wind can make a cheap day out a complete misery.
It worked the other way on this day of course. I had on a long sleeved t-shirt, a cardigan, my coat and also had hat, scarf and gloves. I shed them all and had to tote them about. Eee, tha niver can tell.
The slugabeds who'd just got up were better attired for the weather than me, but it was still cold when I set out.
Oh, this is all just fun pics. No cultural education, so feel free to skip.
Queue to enter. Seriously, people come from miles away for this weekly event. Carruthers identified the hirsute older man as the "It's" man from Monty Python. He made a good point.
I'm sure I've said before, but it's held on the site of the cattle market.
The pens looking so much more beautifuller thanks to the addition of me.
And my new watch (I did not have a working one, so it was a necessary purchase. Ahem)
I did not buy any of the tat in the background.
I love boot sales. We have hem here too, but don't call them that. And with winter over, it's almost flea market season again. There's one here in Arlington the first Saturday of every month, and I mark it on my calendar so I don't forget. It's the best place to get durable second hand tools like axes, shovels, rakes, etc. and if you are into "stuff" they have lots of that too. From my point of view, it's about 95% crappy stuff, but man, that other 5% is wonderful.
And the first sale of the year in April is the best because the vendors have the whole winter's worth of stuff they have been accumulating. There's lots to pick over.
Carboot stuff.
There are still bargains to be had - I bought Ghostbusters and Ghostbusters 2 for 50p. Far cheaper than a charity shop, although there is more guilt in that it doesn't benefit anyone apart from the seller. But it doesn't go into landfill, right?
Anyway even the browsing is fun. And the people watching.
Honestly, they travel for MILES to get bargains. Paying for petrol and parking and probably chips. At least I can just decide to walk there on the day.
Glatt, if you have a shopping list (as I did) you can do very well by the carboot sales. They're amazeballs for exercise DVDs and equipment for example :rolleyes:
I only made one impulse purchase. And for an impulsive person like me, that's very good.
Oh. Two, actually. Just so I'm not lying.
I walked out with money in my pocket. And my hand in my pocket over my money.
I left my purse (wallet?) at home.
I might be a bit of a nutter but I'm not going to be robbed of the little I have.
Not an impulse purchase. Ish.
Look, I've had an eye out for a while for a pair of wellies that I genuinely want to wear.
I have a pair of ankle boots, and they're gorge, but if last year is anything to go by, it will start raining in April and not let up until half past June.
I dickered.
I did. And I got a discount.
They still cost me £2. But they are unworn (not unborn as my phone said yesterday). And if it doesn't ever rain again in Otley then it's £2 well spent to secure good weather. Apart from the destruction of the world etc.
And after it all, here are the boys.
I negotiated a deal with the chap on the stall because I wanted a Weeping Angel for Dads. Blink was his favourite ever Dr Who episode. I doubt he'll remember it now, but he loved it once and it won't take up much space. He's 75 on the first of May.
So I went and had tea with The Doctor and The Captain.
They thought I was amazing.
I have that Doctor figure!
Pressie from the Js.
I excused Carruthers because he's a Southern softie, but really.
I am mortified. I'll have you know that Yorkshire is well represented on both sides of my family.
My 4 x Great Grandparents were married in Kirkby Overblow (10 miles East of Otley) on 17 Dec 1770.
Really, a chap can only take so much, you know. ;)
Oh shush. You're a silver Southern fox. You sly devil you.
Last pic.
I've been after a cat for Dads for nearly a year now. They're not allowed pets where they live, any more than they're allowed daughters.
But as he gets more confused, he misses having a pet more and more.
He grew up always having an animal in the house, and when we were children there was always something furry in the house to love. So Mum (who now cannot leave their flat without him, because of his dementia) asked me to look for something weighty and furry he could have on his lap.
I hoped batteries would make the cat move as it's supposed to, but apparently the circuits are corroded. It's not the small amount of money I paid that made me cry. It's losing my hero, piece by piece and being so fucking impotent.
He's not that far gone that he would think it was a real cat. It's just that the weight and fur may be a comfort. And I bought it second hand from a carboot sale because we don't know if he'll love it or hate it, and I can't afford to take the chance.
A cat that doesn't even work from a carboot sale for his birthday.
That's why I cried.
Hugs, Sundae. X
Sent by thought transference
*hugs*
Damn, hon, now I want to cry.
Oh hey, Christmasteers! It's a few salty drops into a duvet that has seen far worse.
(it's the silly things that hurt worst isn't it?)
But it's still a cute heavy catskin, and I'm still bloody gorgeous.
Yes it is, yes you are and - it's actually a really good idea, that cat.
Aside from the short term adoption of a stray dog who we had to give up when we moved house (which we did with alarming regularity during our first years together) Jude and I were not able to have a dog for the first 7 or 8 years we lived together - one Birthday, he bought me a giant dog toy - a plush, wrinkly dog (like a Shar Pei) about twice the size of a westie terrier.
I called him Arthur. And, though I never stopped wanting a proper dog, and mooned over every dog saw, having Arthur did help - it was nice to give him a big hug and imagine he was real.
I honestly don't think I've posted these ones here.
Ask for explanations if I haven't and you're interested. It's not mine btw.
(I cannot explain why I am standing in such a strange position though. I know I had clean knickers on)
Today was Cherry's Special Adventure.
I have one planned for Easter Sunday and Bank Holiday Monday too.
This is all to keep me clean and sober and occupied over Easter, which was always a big deal in my family home. People were far more cavalier about being there at Christmas. It might be a Catholic thing, it might just be a family thing. But I got The Weeps at the idea of being stuck alone in my cold dirty flat, eating dry cereal in bed with no family, no cat and nothing to do, so I had to make plans to make sure there wasn't another trip to hospital.
That's the sad bit over.
Although there is a bit of an angry bit to come.
Well you have to warn people of this these days. Apparently. Rated R; one occasion of language and all that. I think they should list all the swear words on the poster so people can make their own minds up...
ANYWAY. We are talking about a religious festival. One which is important to most of my blood relatives, my Godfather and none of the other people I love!
Otley erects a 30 foot tall cross on the Chevin every year. It is visible from most of the town, although not from my bedroom window. Not that I do anything in here Jebus could disapprove of. Not even eating prawns.
I tried to get a photo of it as I walked to the launderette, but it just did not show what was visible to the naked eye, thanks to the light angle and the fact I was trying to take it on a mobile phone.
Here is what I managed. I blew up the photo, so you can see there IS actually a cross, and the full piture shows the location.
Yorkshire Evening Post's
write-up of the lifting of the cross. Not of my trip to the launderette, which I think features in next week's News.
Right.
I have been cleaning my flat s.l.o.w.l.y with a few minor spurts of effort and one really frenzied attack (so far - that was only Tuesday).
I still have not uncovered my camera. I think I have to assume that it is gone, left or stolen somewhere when I was in a drunken stupor. Serves me right I suppose. But all the chickens come home to roost when you really are trying to sort your life out.
I've been getting by mostly with my mobile phone camera, but I never really and truly learned how to use it. I thought it was just point and shoot. Now I find out it does have settings, but I don't even know how to access them. They may as well be pre-Rosetta Stone hierglyphs.
What I'm setting up is that I had the most fantabulosa day, so flipping photogenic (the settings as well :rolleyes:) and all you get is miniatures. And yet I haven't manually changed a thing since the photos I took in Hedben Bridge. Or indeed the WALK TO THE LAUNDERETTE BEFORE I LEFT!
I just thank my lucky stars that my years of being on here and taking point and shoot photos have made the majority useable.
And anyway, it's just an illustration, I'll never be a talented photographer like some on here. I'll try to show you with words instead.
I'm just cross because I was only there for a day and wanted you to SEE things I might not understand fully myself. And the phone was right there too.
Angry Bird bit over.
Write up next.
First leg was Otley to Leeds. It is for most journeys, but as I've said before, I've learned to love Leeds now. Not enough to make it a Special Adventure though!
Walked past this van, which I have probably seen many times when it was open, but was too fixated on the pizza to appreciate the vehicle. Old war horse that it is.
I was on my way to get a quote to have a new battery put in my watch.
The quote was OUCH. But I did it anyway because I'd just sold all four series of The Walking Dead DVDs, and my two Hannibal ones. And have been living on muesli and water for a week.
Bloody hell it's good to have the old boy back on my wrist. Photo is accurate timewise - I picked him up at the end of the day. They replace the pressure seal and water test and all that and everything.
A Tag never loses time. It goes through a period where the second hand jumps by ten seconds each time to warn you the battery is low, then stops. It was originally conceived as a divers' watch, so it can't mess about. Because I dive all the time, me (ahem)
I did buy it ten years ago when I could afford it.
A Tag never loses time. It goes through a period where the second hand jumps by ten seconds each time to warn you the battery is low, then stops.
That is cool. My Swiss Army watch does no such thing, It just dies.
Next leg - Leeds to Saltaire.
If you're interested, these (
wiki) and (
community website) will give you far more accurate detail than I can remember. But it is a beautiful place.
I've wanted to go there ever since Bill Bryson praied it so highly in
Notes From A Small Island.
Very useful and interesting noticeboard. Genuinely.
Coming up from the station.
I wandered past the first shop and took a pic of something that caught my eye. The ram actually. Took a pic for you.
And then these! As you can tell I had to actually go inside, because I thought they were so delicious I wanted a reasonable photo.
They also sell other fabric animal heads, including a hare. Limey if they'd had one in stock I'd have bought it for you and damn the consequences. But they didn't, because karma prefers me to have toilet paper.
I swore after buying my £7 train ticket, I'd spend as little as possible. And I nearly succeeded. Especially as I was out until gone 19.00.
But the first flipping shop got me so excited it's a good job I didn't just have a thousand pounds in my tights.
I could have sworn I'd posted about your camera - but can't find the post.
If it's the pink one, then it's at my house - Carrot found it digging toys from under the couch. He was chewing it when I took it off him - but didn't look damaged.
Titus Salt was extraordinary for his time, and wanted his mill workers to live away from the smoke and smog of Bradford, in the fresh open air. They should also have one dwelling per family (anyone who has watched Who Do You Think You Are? regularly will remember details of people listed as living on landings and staircases in the official census!)
But he was teetotal and abstemious, and expected his workers to be.
Fair enough.
But his town is no longer dry.
This place made me smile.
Thanks for thinking of me for the hare, Sundae. I'm glad they didn't have one,though! I'd not want you to send yourself to the debtors' prison for my sake! This looks a fabulous place!
Sent by thought transference
First photo
I couldn't see anything I could afford in this shop (unless I wanted buttons) But it was pleasing to the eye.
It was on a street of similar establishments, although many of them sold food on the hoof. I can only assume that the people who actually live and work in Saltaire - because it is still a real place to live, not a museum - do so in the vicinity of Victoria Street.
Second photo
Not believing that sick workers were malingerers fit only for the poorhouse, Titus actually had a hospital for those who had work related injuries. Like pregnancy and stuff.
I am not a materialistic person. But I am acquisitive. Those on the Cellar who have met me will attest to my magpie impulses, although I generally manage to restrain them. The impulses, not the Dwellars.
First pic - some gorgeous horses, which I think of as Corsican.
However there is a RadioActive (radio comedy show) connection that may make me think this. But they were beautiful.
Second pic - this was an independent jewellers. Even the priced items made my eyes widen, but they're obviously all one of a kind. Most of them were POA though. If you can't afford, don't ask. I'm sure they're lovely people, and they are definitely artists. I just liked their window displays. And their sparklers.
Now this struck me as a real The League of Gentlemen moment.
I did lose my glasses, and I'm sure Carrotchops does not have them (replaced now and with a different prescription)
The fact I have never been to Saltaire before doesn't matter, the poster says nothing of that. Part of me thinks it's guerilla spam (what an idea!) but how lovely if it's genuine.
And the next is the first pic of your genial host, but hopefully setting the landscape behind in context.
Titus laid the grid of streets out named for his family.
This one seems fairly modest, so perhaps it was for Titus Junior?
A shot of the back alleys, which even now look decent and wide.
I went up to the main road that runs through the village.
The only really useable shot was a window full of cocks...
Okay, okay hens and chicks.
There were some lovely places to eat; a French place in particular, but a child was having a meltdown inside while I read the menu in the window. Oh no, no thanks. I am not having a super-extra-special treat I can't really afford with that soundtrack. I can get screaming temper tantrums for free every day in Otley library.
Also a slightly kitsch cakery.
It's a recurring theme with me that I worry I will pay over the odds and the cake will be stale. And that was all I could think of! Their wares looked beautiful, and I'm sure they were fresh and moist (and the cakes, fnar, fnar) but I wanted something more solid.
I very nearly went into a place called The Hop, because the building was some sort of beautiful conversion and it had a wood-fired pizza oven. But they made a big deal out of their drinks selection, and being out on a sunny day with pizza I know I would have ended up having a beer or twelve.
So I went and bought a lottery ticket instead, on the understanding that virtue may be its own reward, but sometimes the Universe does pat you on the head and say Good Girl, Cherry. Which must be confusing for the rest of you not called Cherry. It's for the Euromillions draw tonight.
The only out of business place I could see was a KFC, and from the condition of the signs in the window it had been closed for a while. But as I walked past it still smelled of fried chicken and the Colonel's secret blend of herbs and spices. I wonder why a retail unit in such a prime location hasn't been re-let yet...?
I walked back down towards the station because I'd passed a slew of take-out sandwich/ lunch shops. And if this was the street where the locals went to during their lunch breaks, it was good enough for me. Cheaper than sitting and eating in (by at least £10!) and no temptation to feel all grown up by having a glass of wine with my lunch in the sunshine.
I was pleased with the place I chose, although one of the ladies at the back making the sandwiches to order coughed onto the back of her hand twice just while I was there, and simply carried on without washing her hands. I'm not disgusted by that, and although my immune system is now compromised I wasn't overly worried either. But I don't like to see it, because it's cheating. When I think of my extensive hygiene training, and how we lived in fear of inspection, to see someone cough onto their hand and just carry on is like thinking about your Grandad having sex with your Nan - you know it happens, but you still don't like it.
So I bought my baguette and an apple juice and tripped merrily down the hill to the park, to sit out in the sunshine (sunshine!) and feed my face. It wasn't the healthiest of meals, but I was at peace and that counts for a lot.
Pastrami, Swiss cheese, pickles and mustard.
The part of the park I saw was all you'd want it to be on a sunny afternoon.
A huge expanse of manicured grass thronged with families eating and playing games too big for the back garden. A tea shop (possibly even shoppe) with seating outside. A river with greedy ducks. A noisy and creative adventure playground. And paths winding off upwards into no doubt even more beautiful locations.
As I wasn't actually there for nature, and was on a restricted timetable, I didn't wander the park. But I can't deny the attraction.
What's this?
A boat trip?
Okay, it's pricey. I could have bought a bottle of wine for that. You know what? I'll go on the boat trip.
The slightly amusing part was that the boat has such a small open air section, which everyone wanted to sit in yesterday because the sun was shining. I'll bet most of the time people sit inside!
It was just a lovely pootle up to the closest lock, then the boat equivalent of a three point turn, and back again. But the ducks knew the boat meant food and came out to greet us, and the view of the banks was suitably bucolic, and the ripple and reflections of the water suitably hypnotic.
I saw a squirrel run down the branches of a tree overhanging the bank for a good long drink. The canal is silty, hence the colour, as opposed to the natural river which runs next to it through the park, which is clear because it runs over a pebble base.
The trip included duck food. It wasn't as good as the stuff I buy at home, but better than bread at least.
I was jammed in next to a little girl and her Auntie. Auntie was some sort of foreign European (I'd have guessed Dutch, but she didn't talk about canals, so maybe not) and she was one of these women who think children are more important than adults. She mentioned a few times that it was such a shame thet weren't at the front of the boat. And how much nicer the photos of her niece would be there. And did [niece] have enough room? Which was cheeky given the perfectly sweet and well behaved child had a knee in my back the whole time.
I was in front of them in the queue. That's it.
I might have considered swapping places had she asked politely. But she didn't. Anyway, I was calmed by the slow slap of water against the boat.
I know quite a bit about barges, narrowboats and the canal systems. Partly from my friend Terri in Leicester, partly from learning about it with the children when I was working in school.
There is something hypnotic about the slow chug chug chug of the engine, the little twitches on the tiller, the passing landscape. One of the many, many trips I would love to take one day is to have a holiday on a narrowboat. The only problem is that you really have to have a wonderful companion, because the quarters are so small. And lovely weather, otherwise you may as well be in a little caravan in Skegness. And money - it costs so much to hire one that you need to fill it to the gunnels with people, which takes 99% of the pleasure of peace away!
I'll stick to the occasional tour I think.
If Mr Limey and I get round to such a holiday you can be our crew.
Sent by thought transference
Of course there are other ways to use barges.
This one was doing a roaring trade in ice creams. But I did overhear someone who I assume comes to Saltaire on a regular basis, ordering a coffee and talking about mooring fees.
The owner said this was their their first week "back". They moor up elsewhere during the Winter because they pay so much for their premium pitch that they can't cover the costs for five months of the year.
He was hoping for a good Summer like last year, they were able to make necessary repairs because of it. Such is the precarious world of the canal trader.
If Mr Limey and I get round to such a holiday you can be our crew.
Thank you! There are few people I could possibly enjoy holidaying with in close proximity. I've trialled you. It works :p:
I'd bet on Carruthers too.
And we would def have to moor up and meet Dani & Carrot somewhere.
We could lope along the towpath together and let the boys drink tea and steer.
On to Salt Mill.
It's on the river, the canal, the railway and is the reason the whole place was built.
Obviously it is not a mill any more.
But they have done well by the building. Not as well as I would have done of course, because I would have made it into another Dwelling, with slides and caves underneath and a miniature indoor railway for delivering meals to more private Dwellars.
But they chose to use it differently. How odd.
A huge bookshop. Please trust your humble correspondent when I say I jammed my hands in my pockets. Literally.
This was after I picked up a poetry anthology on dogs for someone who would be mildly bemused/ peeved that I'd spent the money in the first place. I put it down again.
And a home store. OMG. Mum would love a small juice glass with a fox on. But see above.
As Griff said, industrial buildings have great bones. And the high ceilings and the room flooded with light and the space... unfeasible in a modern place. And yet also so removed from the hard work and sweat which must have been the currency of the original incarnation. Titus Salt may have been a progressive employer, but life would have been hard.
There is also a Salt Diner and a coffee shop.
Photos of those did not come out well.
But don't worry, there are pictures of me instead.
Including one in the rather beautiful toilets. Because with a cheap phone it's the easiest place for a selfie. So it's one of my whole series of photos in WCs. I was trying to set up one of those infinite photos, but people kept coming in. Like it was a public place or something!
David Hockney is very closely connected with Saltaire.
There is a gallery in Salt Mill, but it is No Photos.
But it was okay, because outside there were photos of him. And me.
What a great set of posts, Sundae! xxx
Thanks for posting, Cherry.
Great photos and observations. I don't know how you manage to get so much from just one day out. :thumb:
You are an excellent tour guide. :)
Thank you for taking us along on your canal boat ride. I have a real soft spot in my heart for the canals there. I'd love to take a canal boat holiday.
And I really enjoy your writing style.
Please trust your humble correspondent when I say
A great bunch of posts!
Oh bless you all.
I've only paused, there is more to endure.
I don't know how you manage to get so much from just one day out. :thumb:
You mean "Shut up, already! Again with the Saltaire!" But I forgive you.
My life is a house, you crawl through the windows....
So. Still going.
And finally, for Saltaire.
Advert in a local shop. Can't say even I was tempted.
And the traditional response to any enquiry about how this thread is going.
I bought a Rover ticket, which meant I could travel anywhere in West Yorkshire. Or maybe even the whole of Yorkshire, but I wasn't on some manic mission to do so.
I decided to get the bus from Saltaire to Keighley (pronounced KEITH-lee) so I could enjoy some more of the sunshine and see some more of the country. With my limited understanding of local geography, I thought I was heading back into Bradford too, where I knew I could get a bus or train to Leeds. I'd been on the bus for about 20 minutes before I realised I was heading away from Bradford.
I also made the mistake of sitting in front of Coughing Bob Fleming.
Bless him, in the end I realised he did have mental health issues, but it took a while for me to stop thinking of him as simply an annoying coughing old bugger.
I think I thought I read somewhere that Keighley had a thriving community of small independent shops. It may have, but I didn't see them, at least not any I was interested in buying from. I may have been confusing it with Bingley, which we went through and looked gorgeous.
I would have liked to have taken a trip on the Keighley and Worth Valley Railway, which is a steam track, but I hadn't done my homework properly and wasn't sure of the times and the prices. I would not miss my turn on the City Wheel in Bradford! Also, although I'm sure steam trains are lovely, they're not of my era and therefore only special if I am with someone else who really enjoys them. To pay to ride on one alone is... sad. In those circumstances.
So, you remember the giant Rombald, him that stomped about the Ilkley moors and split the Cow and Calf (boulders)?
Ever wonder what he's doing these days?
Just hanging out in a coffee shop.
Keighley, to me, just seemed run down and neglected.
It's the Easter break, so I'm sure the 11-14 year olds hanging about swigging Red Bull knock-offs are probably usually in school, but it just had a weird vibe. Perhaps living in Otley and just coming from Saltaire I'm not used to the average populace. I mean there were no drunks or beggars or mums who should have been in school themselves. It was just...
Here is a takeaway which made me smile.
Are they actually mocking the size of their customers, or do they really import their produce from Japanese scientists?
The market looks nice. NOT.
Inside it was just a generic covered market, some good, some bad, some tat. But the fresh produce looked good.
And I really, nearly bought an item of clothing to wear at Dad's birthday meal in May. And then remembered that they only see me every few months, so they don't know what's new and what's not. Saved my money for me me me instead. Me and my expensive watch battery I mean.
It's not a grim place. Given time enough I'd have a proper look around.
It seems to have retained a Yorkshire Victorian feel. But as I didn't get a feel I'll just show you some photos.
[COLOR="White"]Sorry, I think I have been listening to Round the Horne too much on Radio 4 Extra.[/COLOR]
The photo where it looks like I'm stood in the middle of the road - I am. Pelican crossing, I had the phone ready to go.
So off to the station and onto the train to Bradford.
The Keighley trains terminate at Bradford Forster Square, but that was okay because it's right across from where I stayed last year, so I knew I could get into the city centre with no problem. And the distance is nothing, I estimated it as a mile before, but it can't be more than half.
Turns out the fair I saw last year is an annual event.
People there think it is a real funfair, it's advertised and everything.
I thought it was just a random meet-up of fair folk on a little piece of wasteland. Crikey, comparing this to something like Nottingham Goose Fair... it's like comparing a kid's tea party with Tara Ecclestone's daughter's birthday. With less zebras.
So. On to City Square.
Look at it.
Just look at it.
Oh My Gosh, what a perfect location.
And finally!
I am on the wheel. I did have a slight "moment" when we were first elevated, as I stopped just one car from the top. I'm not terribly keen on heights you see, and I hadn't had a chance to get used to it. But I can do stoic. With a prevailing wind.
It was wonderful to see the pool from above. In my mind it was an ovoid. It's so wide and shallow it's hard to take in the shape at ground level. As you can see it's a perfect circle. And I'll bet it was busy earlier in the day. The temperature was already dropping by the time I got to the Wheel, but even I was still only in two layers of t-shirts with bare arms. Pretty pleased to put my jumper on by the time I got back to Leeds though.
And the last two are of Bradford looking like a model village. I was enjoying it by this point, aside from the sheer terror of dropping my phone out of the capsule!
It was only a short walk to Bradford Interchange, and I got the train back to Leeds on my Rover ticket.
I went to pick up my watch, yay!
I kinda hoped the young lady who was working that morning would still be there, but I was served a (very decent) gingery fellow instead.
The lady that morning - girl even - complimented me on the whole glamour thing I had going on. Right. Woolly hat, scarf and over-sized jumper. It's the sunglasses and the silver hair I guess. She probably thought I was the same age as her Gran but looking good on it.
Anyway, the compliment kept me warm all the way to Saltaire.
After that I was off to the bus station and on the good old X84 home.
A wonderful day. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
A wonderful day. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
Glad to. Thanks for having us along!
Glad to. Thanks for having us along!
Glatt speaks for many of us... :thumb:
Yesterday, going to the cashpoint.
I should be able to see the Chevin. Completely obscured by clouds, which hung over the town all day like a cloth over a birdcage. I chose a completely anamolous day for my day out weather-wise.
Spring is coming.
Those two shots of Bradford from above are gorgeous!
Sundae, the pix are gorgeous. Please keep them coming.
That was brilliant Cherry! Now I want to wander those towns...
Holy cow, I feel like I've actually visited now, even though I've never crossed the pond.
Thank you so much for sharing. Great job.
Thanks for all your lovely replies.
Off to
Tropical World tomorrow I hope. I have had a bizarre series of illnesses over the last month, which have had no connection with anything I've had to eat or drink that I can work out. The only shared factor is they occur/ start over the weekend.
Keep your fingers crossed for me.
I did have an offer of a camera (so kind) but DanaC and I are going to meet up so I can get my old one back. I'd love another of course, but only so I can sell it ;)
I'm saving up to buy a pet rat, so I don't have to be alone any more. Feel free to PM me for my PayPal details if you want to contribute...
I have had no luck unlocking the mysteries of my phone camera, despite reading the manual online. But that's okay now I know the parameters I'm working to.
I won't say any more about tomorrow, just in case.
Except that if it happens it will be here.
Look what I have planned for Bank Holiday Monday...!
Medieval jousting in the heart of Leeds.
I have a ticket for the full day. I intend to go even if it means being stretchered in (note, it is Saturday evening and I'm not ill yet, maybe I have escaped the curse).
You lucky people! I wasn't struck down ill at all, and so went to Tropical World.
Now you have more photos to wade through...
A word about Roundhay Park in Leeds. The place is absolutely enormous. For a park just outside a good sized city I mean, in England, which is short on space in general (England specifically, not Great Britain). It's 700 acres FFS. And it's not some sort of National Park where nature takes care of things. It's like your local park, but a heck of a lot bigger.
I went there a couple of times when I was in the nuthouse, but that was during the Winter, and trust me the wind is painful when it has 700 acres to whistle through before it hits your bruised face. I went as a pilgrimage, because both Jeremy Dyson and Neil Gaiman have used it as a setting for stories. Dyson lived in (or probably just outside of) Leeds, and has mentioned the place many times in interviews.
This Summer I will investigate the place properly. when it's warm and sunshiny for real. There surely must be some tame squirrels somewhere.
Today I used my Leeds Extra card to get into Tropical World for £2.
The full adult fee is £5, which I think is still worth the money, but I was warm and entertained for approx 1.5 hours for about the price of a coffee in Starbucks. I say it's a deal, it's a steal.
I imagine on a weekday in term time it's pretty quiet. I had to queue. But it was as I said above - somewhere to go to fill up a day which would have felt empty otherwise. When I came out the queue was HUGE, so I'm glad I went when I did (I would have been there earlier, but we won't talk about that).
I have no idea why the queue moved so slowly.
I laid down my card, smiled and said, "One adult, please" and the girl took my £2 and gave me a receipt. It took about 30 seconds. Ah well.
In through the gift shop of course. I wasn't tempted.
But it was high and full of light.
Then straight into the South America I think. I should have taken my notebook as well as my phone. I could still wear my jacket at that point, but the plastic strip cutrains already led into a warm wet heat.
I can't even remember of this is a toad or a frog. (Sorry Harvey Denton)
Toad I think. Amphibiously beautiful.
And a tarantula. Rose? Clod may be able to tell you what sort; there were a number of glass cages obviously occupied, but where the inhabitants were hidden away. Others to crowded about by. These were two that really caught my eye is all.
Next the Butterfly Hall. Ramp up the warmth some more. Off with the jacket (careful gentlemen, I actually unbutton my shirt later).
It was wonderful.
The flutterbyes are huge, mostly dark so they're easy to see, and they occasionally alight on humans. I extended my hand to them a couple of times, but of course they're not my minions, so they quite rightly ignored me. I should have brought a dead monkey's hand[COLOR="White"] (Elvis Costello ref)[/COLOR]
Despite what I thought of as a large crowd of people, there was no crush and very little trouble getting photos or standing where I wanted to. It's well designed with lost of viewing places to stand. The sun came out while I was in there - came through the cloud haze properly I assume - and it became a magical space in Leeds in April.
It really did feel tropical. Like a warm bath.
For someone who's had a hard lonely Winter in an unheated flat, it was heaven.
I'm not going to make you sick up in your mouth by comparing the butterflies to angels. To me, growing up when and where they were common, having a butterfly flap its wings close to your face means Summer and freedom and good times. Better than gelded harp players any day.
Always in favor of toads. Thanks S
There were enclosed pools, but also a sream which simply appearred and disappeared and seemed to have no connection to the animals. At the very least there were no signs asking you not to throw coins in, and other people had. So I did. Three pennies for luck. Then again I threw a coin into the Trevi Fountain in Rome, which is supposed to mean you will return, and I can't see that happening! You know me, I like the idea of the other-worldly but am too cynical to really believe.
There were some HUGE fish in the pools.
Every now and then one would surface and leave me gasping. Seriously, think inside arm from elbow to fingertips.
There was an elusive white one which put me in mind of Falcor. Others were as orange as Sunny-D and twice as healthy. They all flashed a fin every now and then. This was my best attempt.
Fish and turtles.
I can say all seemed happy and healthy, as far as you can tell with these sort of creaatures anyway.
They had warmth and space and food. I don't feel guilty looking at littl slow things in captivity. Itt's not like a big cat in a ting cage.
Into the Amazon!
A dimly lit room with aquarium cages.
Okay, so I didn't feel as good about this. The frogs seemed quite jolly though, as did the chameleon (every photo I tried to take was obscured at least in part by a bossy little ?6? year old directing Daddy how and when and where to take his photos. So I spoke the chameleon version of parseltongue and it grabbed her in its little hands and bundled her off to where nasty children go.
Snake instead.
Sorry, in this room I was dancing in and out of family groups the effort of being considerate I lost track of which snake was which. Their viewable habitatats were much smaller than Mortimer's, Limey. But it's possible they have more space available out of hours, from programmes I've seen of reptile houses.
The dim room opened up into an atrium suffused with light.
I sneezed like a pig of course.
Again, I couldn't get to the info to find out what these fish were. But they were rather big and shuddery. The sort of fish you'd prefer to have on your plate then in your fevered dreams.
Well fuck me sideways.
I've just found out what happened with the photos (I think). It's NOTHING to do with the phone, which is why the manual was no help. It's to do wth how I log onto the computer.
Hold the press.
I looked up the fish for you. Pacus apparently.
No word on whether they're edible.
On to the birds.
Their hall is (unsurprisingly) high, and the sun was out so the place was drenched in light as well as the tropical warmth. They're used to people trooping through their habitat, so although I wouldn't claim they were friendly, like my minions in the park - they weren't shy. Birds gotta fly though, so I ended up with quite a few empty photos, and occasionally a blurred mark to show where I'd nearly caught a bird on camera.
These were obliging enough to stay still.
Two Victorian Crowned Pigeons, and a Superb Starling. I agree.
The background sound of the falls merged with birdcalls in a very pleasing fashion.
I very nearly asked someone to take a photo of me, but then realised it was better to be self-reliant so that I was the only one to blame!
Obviously I couldn't show myself behind the falls, so this is the best I could come up with. The main point is that it's wonderful to stand and look out through the curtain of water and the unseasonable greenery and see the dense whirring of wings.
Two Scarlet Ibis (Ibises? Ibii?)
And one sacred Ibis.
Two monkeys...
I realised I couldn't get close enough to the glass to get a decent photo, but as it was only a variety of insects I stuck with having a reflection of me instead. This is the point at which I have my shortsleeved shirt unbuttoned.
And I think this is a hooded monkey of some sort?
Poor fella was all alone, but this place is big on conservation and as natural a life as possible for the inhabitants, so there may have been others not about. I mean it was Easter Sunday. Perhaps he'd been sent out to get the papers while everyone else lounged around eating Easter Eggs.
Desert World.
This is where the meerkats live.
A word about meerkats.
They are undeniable sweet, and there is a series repeated ad infinitum on the satellite channels called Meerkat Manor, which follows various tribes. The fact that they are easy to anthropomorphise, live together in groups and literally look out for eachother makes them quite charming.
And capitalising on this, someone in the marketing team for a price comparison website noticed the similarity between the words market and meerkat and started a series of character based adverts. Sergei, Alexander and baby Oleg became well known to the British public. They even had the prime advert slot before Coronation Street (one of the two biggest British soap operas) which my parents follow assiduously.
So meerkats are a big deal, and a big draw.
I took quite a lot of photos here, to show Dads when I go down in May, I just know he will say, "Simples!" and suck his teeth and think himself terribly clever. I look forward to it.
In the mean time, you may not be as enamoured, but they are cute as all get out, so I had to include a couple.
The enclosure.
And then the dim world of the night creatures.
Hard to photograph (and no, I definitely did not use a flash) but so very beautiful. I adore bats, and there were many, fluttering about actively.
And that's it for Tropical World.
It was a relief to get out into the hazy West Yorkshire sunshine, I must admit. I doubled back to see the butterflies again, but in the end it was just so warm, and people were coming in in increasingly large numbers.
I decided to go down to Waterloo Lake, as I'd brought my duck food with me. No reason not to walk, it's not all that taxing and anyway I was enjoying space to breathe and move without fear of toppling a small child.
Only clang clang clang. The road train was coming.
Well, it's the sort of thing we never had the money to go on as children, so I couldn't just ignore it. I felt like Royalty, as all the children you pass stare and wave. But so they should, they may never see the likes of me again. Strange exotic creature that I am (I should charge).
Roundhay Park: scenes from a (miniature) train.
Disembarkation.
And some dogs, because they were everywhere and I know you like them.
I didn't feed the ducks in the end, just took a stroll and then sat in the sunshine. The lakeside was thronged with children lobbing unfeasibly lage pieces of bread at disinterested water fowl; I could see it floating on the water untouched. I preferred to save my decent, nutritious food for the ducks and swans at home. Because once you open a bag it tends to spill into your handbag. And from there to everywhere. I had to stop the other day because some was in my shoe and really hurting my toes. I was in the bank.
At times I was down to my camisole (proper outer garment obviously), sometimes shirtsleeves, sometimes in my denim jacket and glad of it. But I had a book, a packed lunch and a return ticket on the road train, back to the bus stop, where I knew my pass would mean I didn't have to spend any money to get home safe and sound. Sheer pleasure.
I mean do bear in mind it may be April, but it's still the scrag-end of Winter up here.
I have put my mind to living long enough to show you the park in Summer. Because I'm sure it's totes amazeballs then.
That and potential rodent ownership (sorry, Carruthers, I think I will) should see me through.
And then back to Leeds.
Which was empty by Leeds standards.
We're getting a PieMinister shop.
I now have no hope of losing weight or staying solvent.
PieMinister make the best pies in the whole world. Everything about them is gorgeous, from their ethos to their ingredients, from the punning names to the pastry.
Colour me both excited and regretful.
But mostly excited.
You could apply to work there -then you'd be solvent and get pies.
I did consider it, but it would be nearly an hour door-to-door.
And I'm still not quite right.
First time a customer showed even a quizzical face I'd be in tears. An angry customer would have my head in the pie-oven.
Volunteering is next, to build my self esteem again.
I hate not working, because it's not like I'm kicking back and having fun (although this weekend's posts suggest that!). My pysciatric team support this; get more involved in life, but don't go too fast too soon. Have to get off the anti-psychotic drugs first.
but... pies :drool:
Back to Bank Holiday Monday. It's horse day for Sundae!
I bought my ticket weeks back and have looked forward to it since.
I've never been to Leeds Armouries, even though I'm a museum fan and it has free entry. I will certainly be going there now, as I saw only a small part of the museum. Mostly what lay between me and the toilets!
I woke up unfeasibly early and didn't go back to sleep. I wanted to get the 09.37 bus, and get it I did.
It got me into Leeds ridiculousy early, to the extent I couldn't remember why it was that bus, rather than the one which ran an hour later, I'd chosen to get. But it was okay - better to be there and kill time.
I'd had weeks and weeks to decide what to wear. And we had terribly grim weather only a week ago, to the extent I emailed the museum team asking them about potential cancellation. They responded quickly and pleasantly (in my defence I was also asking about the fact I didn't have a receipt, having booked by phone) saying the only weather condition which would make them cancel would be lightning, because of the danger.
The day was forecast to be cloudy, but fair. Temperatures of about 11 degrees (52f) and little chance of rain. It was a hazy start in Otley. Tattered cloud moved in front of the Chevin, revealing and obscuring it in parts, a landscape in motion. I chose to wear my Christmas outfit from two wears back, a long silver skirt with the sparkly camisole I wore to the park, only with a nude colulered vest underneath, Dressed down with black heeled boots and my denim jacket.
There is something about walking in a long heavy skirt. In order that it doesn't wrap itself up in tangles you have to use your hips, adopting a slightly rolling gait. It's why actresses wear "practice skirts" when rehearsing for Shakespeare.
I was enormously gratified by the reaction to my costume of choice, Even at the bus station a little girl said in a stage whisper to her Mum, "I like that silver dress [sic]. It looks like a Princess!"
I found this equally sickening and compelling,
Which isn't a criticism of the museum. the diorama represents what really happened. In all its gory glory.
Hunt to eat, yes. Kill to live, yes.
Deliberately choose to kill beautiful big cats and call it sport? No.
Even more horses!
There will be lots later too.
Poor old horses got dragged into a lot of our little squabbles over the years.
Just to change it up a bit, we're back to elephants.
And that was pretty much it for me inside the museum, except for finding Benedict Cumberbatch in the Modern Armour section, dressed in riot gear.
As it turned out, the day was plenty warm. I mean I could have worn my little white dress and been content by about 13.00. I'd guess the temperature was in the high teens later in the day, if not actually hitting 20 (68f)
So I spent most of the day simply sitting outside, reading, enjoying the warmth. Museum entry is free, otherwise you can bet I'd have wrung every drop out of it. I only paid for entry to the live events in the tilt-yard.
It wasn't like Roundhay Park; this is a city centre location so when the sun shines, the heat builds. Glorious.
Me looking suitably mediaeval.
It was a hazy start in Otley. Tattered cloud moved in front of the Chevin, revealing and obscuring it in parts, a landscape in motion.
Beautiful description.
Did you get to see the Hall of Steel?
I didn't. If you recommend it, it will be my first port of call next time I visit.
It is estimated that 484,143 British horses, mules, camels and oxen died in WW I, not to mention the dogs, carrier pigeons and other animals.
You shot my Speckled Jim!
No mention of elephants though...
There was a swordfighting showpiece on floor 2, but after about 10 (glorious, well spent) minutes, I decided I should try to snag a good seat in the tiltyard.
OMG. The place was already crammed with people! Luckily, being on my own, and gorgeous, and moving like I was on castors like Priscilla Presley in Mars Attacks, I got a seat at the front. Turns out this is not actually the best place to sit. All the action is bifurcared by the safety rail. Grrr. I learned my lesson for the next show! But after all, having to duck or crane is not that much of a hardship.
The jester on stilts entertained us. Right up until he asked for a child to come and help him out. Lucky me! I was sat right in front of said child. Little cow kicked my cheese and beetroot chutney baguette (packed at home and nutured until I was hungry) onto the floor as she clambered past. She didm't even notice, and I doubt her parents did either, being busy watching her special moment. But I had to take quite a few deep breaths.
Anyway.
Knights and horses start coming in.
Forgive me if Im wrong heraldic fans - I think this is Burgundy.
There were three "teams". Poland, England and Burgundy. I quite liked that Burgundy was so specific (it's a region of France, not considered a country - at least these days).
And they had the most beautiful horses... Phwoar.
England and Poland I believe.
Each knight had an outrider, to harry the opposition and stop them from gaining a hit on them in the melee, where two hits equalled a point.
They hit eachother with ash sticks, not maces, but even with (or because of!) their armour it had to feel like a right old wallop.
The outriders' horses also acted as substitutes. Over the course of two tournaments there were a number of changes. Not because a horse was ever injured, just to keep them hale and hearty.
Kyle (may be spelled differently), our Lady of the Lists for the day.
She did almost no riding, but from her seat I'd say she's pretty darned competent in the saddle.
I didn't get any photos of the melee I could use.
They just ended up looking so... still.
But it was great to watch, three fully armoured knights and three outriders. Whacking eachother with sticks and getting in the way respectively.
There was also a show of horsemanship, on two very different horses. Not just the colour, although that helped.
The white one showed defensive moves, the dark brown one attacking moves. Except when he laid down on the ground on command.
The rider is Poldark's stunt double for horse scenes.
What a fantastic account of a fantastic day!
Sent by thought transference
Having a nice kip, as detailed above.
And the outside of the yard.
Despite (bad child) Arwen's best attempts I did still have some food with me.
So I went in search of what the museum website calls the Picnic Area. I assumed it would be outside. No, it was a collection of primary coloured plastic seating, inside, with no view AND NO BIN.
My only moan about the day.
So I shrugged that one off and went to sit outside in the sunshine. I was determined to be early for the finale, even though it meant missing the Grand Parade. It was the right choice; the parade came right past the queue anyway. I was there 45 minutes before the start, and I was still behind about fifty people. But then most of them were families - if you have paid to watch the show, you will expect to sit together, and you will want the right seats for the ankle-biters.
I sat in row three this time. I could have found a seat in row two, but why bother if the location is good? I was smack bang in the middle and sat next to a lovely granny who watched my bag while I went to the loo.
I tried again and again to get a photo of the actual point of collision. Never managed it, so I did give up. It was a marvellous sight; splintered lances, an unhorsed rider and all that and everything.
Knight fever, night fever...
England won in the first session (which was strange, but gratifying) but the later session totalled the scores over the whole Bank Holiday weekend (Good Friday to Easter Monday).
I wanted England to win for patriotic reasons, but I would have roared like a tiger if Burgundy had won, for pervy reasons.
Poland won. Ah well, it must have been deserved.
So just the meet and greet to go.
And I milked it big time. There were people there getting signatures from the knights - apparently thay are internationally known. And kiddies stroking the horses. Me, I talked to the people holding the horses, and behaved like a resposible horse owner (never have been, never will be, but I asked Carruthers for advice).
Magical.
The humans seemed gratified to be noticed, the horses liked the neck pats and ear rubs and the real stars were more than happy to talk when they saw I was teh serious, not just a silly middle aged woman.
I am a silly middle aged woman of course.
But not without charm (or connivence)
This won me a good long chat with the MC. Lovely chap actually, and not even a frustrated actor, just someone who loves horses and showing off.
He looks like Michael Sheen.
And then I came home and passed out.
No, pretty much that's what happened.
I've been sleeping so badly recently, and I've had such an action packed weekend (for me, I'm sure it's laughably spare to many other people) that I thought I would rest my eyes for just a minute and woke up in the wee small hours fully dressed in all my finery!
But gosh, what a wonderful day.
Thanks, Limey - the compliment is due to Leeds Armouries. They put on a marvellous show. Well, more than one.
Thanks for a great write up, Cherry.
I especially like the pictures of the horses. ;)
I have had the opportunity to lift both a lance and a helmet (fnarr, fnarr, yes, Mr Limey does know, he was there!) at the Royal Navel College in Greenwich. They're deuced heavy. Manoeuvring the lance at full tilt (and I use the word advisedly) must give a chap splendid biceps (etc.). What a great thing to have seen! Very exciting, no wonder you passed out! X
Sent by thought transference
Sounds like an interesting weekend.
Winter may (still) be coming in Westeros, but in Otley it's definitely Spring.
Today was far more windy and cooler than forecast, but it is only April after all. And the feeling of having a False Spring has passed.
So what can I do for free today?
I know, walk up to the Easter Cross.
I probably should have put a long-sleeved top on under a thicker jacket, but I hate to go back up two flights of dark stairs once I'm already in the fresh air, so I decided the walking would warm me up. It did. Could have done with a hat though.
The cross is at Surprise Point. which is the highest point on the Chevin - which I've found out since last year actually refers to the hill, which progresses in lumps and bumps, but is all of a piece really. The forest, which is what most people here mean when they say the Chevin, is actually Chevin Forest. So that's cleared that up.
Off up the steep road. Stopped a couple three times to catch my breath and have a sip of water, but all in all it was far shorter and a lot less steep than I remember. Better fitness and weight loss I think - even hauling five less lbs has to make a difference and I think it's probably nearer 20 since the last time I went up there.
The turnoff for Surprise Point came surprisingly quickly, and I walked up a very slightly muddy bridleway. I was in trainers this time though, not flipflops! And the incline is far gentler than the road; you've done most of the climb by the time you get to the start of the lane.
First the Easter Cross. It's supposed to be viewed from the town, so the front is more attractive than the back. But a photo from the front requires moving down slightly further and even then the area behind is either simply sky or the carpark, including icecream van. I wanted Otley in the background, however distant.
The fields on top of the Chevin were full of lapwings (commonly called peewits), with their strange swooping flight. Although I have been aware of their work, it's the first time I've seen them. Noisy, but beautiful.
I did say it was windy, right? Me at Surprise Point, just to the left of the cross. The surprise being that I actually got out of the flat and did it rather then feeling sorry for myself inside.
I decided to come back via Jacob's Ladder again.
Because it scared me so much last time. See above re lighter and fitter. I also seem to be braver (and death shall have no dominion...) because it seems miles shorter and although I can't claim I ran down it, I felt no terror. Then again I did keep my eyes on my feet and my mind on what I was going to do afterwards. Sometimes I think having done something once, you know you can do it again, so the sting is taken out of it.
No shakes either, except the slight tremble of someone who does not regularly stalk down a hillside on a set of stairs. And I was hungry too.
Ask my thighs how much fitter I really am on Sunday and Monday. That's when I think I'll know!
I did say it was windy, right? Me at Surprise Point...
That is maybe the best pic I've seen of you, Sundae... lively... happy ... interested.
:joylove:
.
Interesting that the Lapwings were so plentiful. They're as rare as hen's teeth around here.
Have you seen any Red Kites on your travels? They were first released on the
Harewood Estate in 1999 and have made a successful comeback.
I was just wondering if they have moved out as far as Otley?
Must be fun to watch a whole herd of these.
Back off up the Chevin today, to take advantage of the cooler air under the trees.
Because it was supposed to get up to 18C (64F) here and up to 23 (73)where the 'rents live. This is hot by my standards, and certainly not usual for April.
The day looked like it would fulfil the promise, so I did my little chores around town, but by the time I came back to the flat the sky was grey and it looked more like rain than anything. There was also a chill wind. So even though I would be exercising, I put on my heavy denim jacket and some trainers before I set off. I had been contemplating flip flops.
I decided to go up Jacob's Ladder this time, because even though it's hard, it's more direct and more enjoyable than going by road. Blimey it was tough. A couple of pauses and quite a bit of water. It was worth it to feel I'd really cracked that obstacle though, physically and mentally.
I headed left to the bridleway, across the road and into the forest proper.
Still chilly. Not cold, but the wind was ceaseless even under the trees.
I took the left hand path, which I haven't before, and of course it brought me out on the rockier, more exposed side of the forest. Windier still! I'm like the Paul Whitehouse "bugger" character sometimes. But it was good to see a new view.
There are boulders which jut out over the edge of the hill, and as I was walking towards one, a man just strolled down, hopped onto one, walked right to the edge and checked the terrain against his map. I don't think I could ever have that insouciance around heights. But hey, I'm sober. Feel the fear and do it anyway.
I walked like someone with brittle bones down to a stone. Sat on it facing away from the drop, and slowly edged backwards into the centre, then slowly rotated. I was all I could do to lift my hand to get a photo. But I did it, and I'm pleased I did.
- Me on my rock.
- The view without my face in.
My rock. To show how brave I was.
Ready or not, here comes the drop...
After a good old stretch of the legs round oe of the forest walks I made my way back to Jacob's Ladder, the top of which is close to one of the fields thronged with plovers the other day. I saw a couple, but the phone simply doesn't take detailed enough pictures to pick them out. Instead I'll show you their field with the presumably delightful hostelry across it (no, I didn't). The Royalty Inn. I'll bet you can't get a seat inside or out on fair weather days in the Summer holidays. But then I bet it's a bleak place in Winter too.
Just a bit more of the trek. I've done my duty photographing it now. It will simply be mentioned in despatches occasionally. Even with a packed lunch it's a heck of a lot cheaper than going to the gym. I was out for a good three hours, shifting my bones about today.
Back down the Ladder, easier even than last time, I was able to look out at Otley lying below me.
The High Street from the opposite end I usually take photos from.
Sounds like it was a wonderful 3 hours. Nice sceneries and fresh air. I wish I could've joined you. :)
Sounds like it was a wonderful 3 hours. Nice sceneries and fresh air. I wish I could've joined you. :)
I think we did !
Very nice pics and commentary.
What a lovely place. Thanks for introducing us. :)
Last week I was full of beans and decided to walk to the next town along; Guiseley.
I had nothing to do when I got there, being literally penniless, and it was a walk along a main road rather than through delicious countryside. But I was in need of exercise and the sky looked dicey re rain, so I didn't want to commit to being somewhere which might become exceedingly muddy.
If I get the slow bus home I go through Guiseley. It's a nice enough little place.
In Bucks terms I'd call it a village for size, but it has the local Job Centre, which you only usually find in large towns and a retail park with a Boots bigger than we have in Otley. Also a few of the large takeaway chains and a supermarket which rivals the one in Otley for size. Go figure.
It's a three mile walk, but I padded it out on the way back by taking the same route as the bus - it's a detour via Menston, which I'm sure has a centre somewhere, but the bus only really clips the edge. Gorgeous big houses, the bus goes past too fast to really have a good nose through the windows... Menston and Guiseley both retained their stations, so the good denizens can get into Leeds far more quickly than I can. Explains why the X84 is always empty when I get on in Otley.
Guiseley has it's own theatre. Get them!
A flavour of what's on offer. Can't say I'm really tempted.
Except by the line dancing. I love a bit of line dancing, even though I am not very good at it. Don't knock it til you've tried it.
I emailed the lady who runs it to ask about the cost of each session, because there's a good chance it's out of my league moneywise. But it would be so good for me - exercise, social activity, filling time, employing discipline to be there regularly and on time. She hasn't replied. I was going to phone her today if I hadn't heard, but I had a bit of a crushing blow yesterday and my finances are once again shot to shit. So I may as well kiss it off for the next two weeks. It's there in my head though.
I can't whine about money though. I have a few things comig up which are already paid for and are very exciting. I will take photos and report back once they've happened rather than blether on about them in advance.
A huge fish and chip emporium. What is it with Yorkshire and whales?
I get it for places actually on the coast (Whitby has ties to the whaling trade) But we are very much inland here. And no, Blubberhouses - near here - is not connected to whales at all, it's a corruption of a much older name.
Anyway, even if I'd had the wherewithal I didn't think I could do a Carruthers and get a bargain, so I walked on by.
Walking back I passed a baby woodland full of rabbits.
I saw one in the same place when the bus stopped there the other week and was delighted - they are not rare or unusual in the wild, but you have to be in the right place at the right time to see them. This time, walking, I realised how likely it was that I saw it. I must have seen twenty walking past. Big bucks and bonny does and babies. Good eating!
Hard to get a usable pic because of course their whole MO is based on running away and hiding just in case. This is the best I could do.
The outside gym in the park.
I've been giving it a go.
I think I managed to fell this tree by stamping on the cross trainer with all my weight.
The Bank Holiday weekend is also Dad's 75th birthday, so I'm back to Aylesbury for three days. By train, whoop whoop! I paid for the trip down and Mum paid for my return trip; I'm coming home First Class! Bless her.
This means I don't arrive in the middle of the night having travelled a ridiculously circuitous route. Instead I'll be in Oxford by 14.02. Mum might get Dad to come on the bus to meet me, but I think it's more likely I'll get the bus back alone. At least there is a bus stop at the station, and it's only an hour from there.
Anyway, I will miss the Tour de Yorkshire and the Street Festival :facepalm:
Still, I know where I'd rather be.
That's a healthy walk, and I like those outdoor gyms. They are a great idea. They are kind of fun.
I did go line dancing in Guiseley yesterday. Arrived nearly ten minutes late (a horror for someone as rabidly punctual as me) because the bus got stuck behind an unloading lorry which took up half the narrow road in Menston. Eventually he squeezed through. I'll walk next week.
I was terrible of course, but everyone was very sweet and said I did amazingly for my first time. They don't realise it will be months, if ever, before I show any improvement! Going back next week, it's good fun exercise.
Then off to Leeds in the sunshine. Got my haircut, but it wasn't my usual hairdresser, and on inspection she hasn't cut it short enough. Grrrrrrr. I deliberately went ten days before going down to my parents, to give it time to look less severe. It will be all unkempt again by the time I get down there.
Off to the market (of course).
Looking not buying. Although if the kitten cage hadn't been looked up I may have tried to smuggle one out. They were so adorable. Wouldn't stay still for a photo op though.
Noticed this in the bus station toilets.
Can you see what's amiss here? The corner of a white machine you can see is the very obviously free hand dryer.
Having fallen for the kittens in the market, I decided to check out another pet shop, to see if there were any other animals I could moon at. There's quite a large place called Bird and Beast so I trolled along there.
Ah, no. Turns out it was a bar and restaurant!
Needless to say, dead chickens were't on my window shopping agenda.
On the way back on the bus I saw a cat trotting across a field full of sheep and rapidly growing lambs. The two species completely ignored eachother.
Then again I also saw Daryl Dixon sprinting down the road (albeit dressed in running clothes; the Leeds 10k is coming up so I see a lot of them). I think I spent too long in the sun!
We have had such a marvellous run of weather.
It was hotter than Aylesbury today apparently - which is very unusual. Not that Aylesbury is Heat Central or anything, but I often get reports from family and friends on the weather which make me green with envy. Or maybe that's the mould from all the rain.
Went on a riverside walk.
Via a garden centre I didn't know was there. Fell in love with how they presented their air-plants. If'n I'd had the readies I'd have bought one. And then killed it of course. Better to enjoy them via photo. That way their eternal Summer will not fade.
Try to ignore the soulless eyes of the creepy dog totems in the background of the above photos.
I did.
I'm warming to real dogs now I see them so often in the park. They have such uplifting joie de vivre when they run.
I wish they wouldn't pee up against the outside gym equipment though. Although they do less damage than the under fives whose doting parents completely miss the signs about the equipment being for adult use only. The exercise bike is buggered, and I'm 75% sure it's from indulgent adults letting kiddies ride on the pedals as they turn them. Because I've seen it.
Anyway.
I couldn't follow the directions for my walk very well. It's hard to determine which field you are supposed to cut across, which to take a sharp left in, which stile to cross.
I think this is Knotts Nook though. Scummier than I fancied it.
And the full glory of the River Wharfe from the bridge on my way home.
I did not know what an "air plant" was, so I googled images.
This one tickled me... but not literally !
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,Maybe NSFW
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Actually I think that's cute Lamp.
Although the first thing that came to mind was "Green vines in my Virginnie"
Spend much of today in the War Memorial garden. I'd already done my exercise - would have done more but I've knacked my ankle and am trying to follow medical advice. Until it bores me senseless. I'm resting more than I would usually anyway.
So, sat in sunshine reading, being virtuous.
Photoging you some blue sky and flowers. The weather is due to turn tomorrow. We've had unseasonable sunshine, but the temps are due to drop to below seasonable levels; I may as well take pics while I can.
Blossoms.
And scary ankle. Note, the grooves are from my support bandage, removed for the purposes of the photo. And in case a few minutes of sunlight had healing properties.
EEEK!!! What did you do? Did it have anything to with Dragons?
Holy crap, Sundae. Quit walking on that thing!
Damn, homegrrl, that looks nasty.
I met with Dani in Leeds in Tuesday, to exchange my camera for laughs and conversation and general - albeit brief GTG stuff.
I was about three minutes late, which was mean of me given Dani has no mobile at present, and after all I did detour for a sample at a pub. Not drinkies - Yates Wine Bar were launching a new menu and giving out free samples of food outside. In the true spirit of Englishness, people were walking past the two staff members dressed in comedy chicken outfits proferring food, just in case there was some attendant embarrassment.
Not me. I not only had a chicken skewer on the way past (albeit in miniature, on a cocktail stick, but went back again when I'd scooped Dani up. She's of the same opinion as me; if it's offered free, take it. You never know when you might eat again. Growing up in the 70s is a bit like SAS training.
She looked gorgeous of course. Effortlessly slim - something I have been working on and was knocked into a little cap by the sight of her long legs in skinny jeans.
We walked up to Leeds University (University of Leeds? Correct me Dana, because I'm bound to get the details wrong) to the part of the campus where Dr Dana will be presented to the world in a short space of time. In this place, The Great Hall.
Outside it was bright and sunny, but it was chilly. Much as I wanted to impress in a summer dress and heels, I'm glad I went for jeans, jacket, scarf and boots. I still don't feel the cold as much as the Doctor, but it wasn't warm. Which wouldn't even have been worth a mention if it hadn't been all bare legs and strappy tops for a week previously.
Inside was all dangling chandalier globes, glorious tiling and stained glass. In fact the light sources stymied my phone's camera (couldn't get my camera-camera to work immediately, although it does now) so I recorded it poorly for you.
Doctor in the Hall.
And not the world's poshest toilets, the glass in the photo was an inside window into what looked like an old fashioned Porter's Lodge with a desk and cubbyholes and all.
Dana showed me the actual Hall of the Great Hall, but it was obviously set up for another event, so we didn't lurk about taking photos. I just hope, hope, hope she gets pics on the day (hint, HINT!)
As we crossed over to the Student Union there was a remembrance service of sorts happening. Obviously very worthy, so we stopped to listen. It was for workers killed while doing their jobs in the local area. It was very worthy of course, but they were about to embark on their Moment of Silence, so it fely highly disrespectful having stopped to walk on by again. The promised minute lasted about four. It cold, windy and we stood, trapped, in honour of Health and Safety for the best part of five minutes. Could we be any more British?!
And into the food court, which was doing a thriving business. The prices were actually higher than I expected, for something on campus and eaten on the hoof, but I can't deny the value. I'd just prefer smaller portions at lower prices, but I'm not a student.
D had a curry and rice, which was indeed massive and served in a deceptively capacious box. I couldn't manage anything that rich for once, so had a chicken salad wrap. It was yummy. We both finished all we bought and weren't sick afterwards. Result.
Then chatted over a coffee and a de-caff tea in one of the coffee bars upstairs.
I'd begun to despair of finding anywhere within my price range which sold de-caff tea, so I was especially grateful, given we'd sat in what felt like an Arctic wind tunnel while I ate my lunch (my choice).
No pics?
No! The wrap, although delish, looked like it had been made by me, as opposed to the tidy parcels the experts make. Maybe it was a new member of staff. So it took two hands to negotiate.
Then Dani went to her seminar, and I went back into Leeds just to poke around for a bit.
I made a mistake and got on the City Bus, which was free on my bus ticket and does the rounds. Unfortunately the route it usually takes had changed due to roadworks, so I'd have been better off on a different one. Still, the walk wasn't onerous, as my swollen ankle has started subsiding nicely. And it was the same walk I did every other day when I was in rehab, so the buildings were old friends.
Old and new styles of architecture.
And an old church which is now a nightclub.
The steps of the building I met Dani on when she was fancy free again.
And view from said steps. You can see how a church can be handed over to hedonism so lightly; to the naked eye there are four spires from this one vantage point alone.
We walked back into Leeds via Millenium Square, but it was empty.
So we went to the market for another cuppa, and wouldn't you know it the greasy spoon we went to actually did de-caff tea! Although the lady put the milk in first :headshake
Still, she was good enough to let us sit and talk while everything else closed down around us.
Off to the Railway Station for Dana to get home (I kept a sneaky eye on Yates even though I was stuffed as a tick, but the chicken had gone home to roost).
And I went back to the bus station to kill some time reading in the warm until it was time to go to the cinema for another freebie - a preview showing of A Royal Night Out, which was good fluffy fun. Albeit highly fanciful according to the Torygraph - thanks for the link to the article Carruthers.
The X84 stops a few hundred yards up from the cinema, so I was home, safe and sober before 21.00 having had a lovely day out. Thanks Dana.
Outstanding! I love pictures from Cellar GTGs, especially in such nice settings.
They're getting my marquees ready for the Otley Show this Saturday.
Sadly I haven't had a sniff of interest in selling my additional tickets, which I'd hoped would have paid for at least an ice cream.
Ah well, now you know you can bid on them!
It looks like the weather will be overcast this year, but at least I know how close I am to the flat, so I can go home and change if necessary. Also I have my Membership ticket, so if it does rain, or get chilly, I'll be able to sit in the marquee.
You can always get undercover at an agricultural show, it's finding a dry place with seating which is the clever trick - especially if everyone else is looking for the same.
Yesterday I went to Leeds to go on a guided walk of Victorian Leeds, run by the Civic Trust.
I set out with reasonably high hopes. It was warm if a bit windy and I had time to kill.
Off to the library to see if I can get online and work out where I was supposed to be meeting them.
In the end the answer was "No" and I left my library card there to boot! It's okay, it was handed in, and I'll pick it up when I have to be back in Leeds on Friday for an appointment.
Well I trusted in my reasonable knowledge of Leeds streets and went looking.
But damned if I could find the place!
It was getting later, I was getting more confused, and I was just walking round in circles.
And then I just lost it. Actually stopped looking and just started crying.
No one I'd asked knew what the heck I was talking about, the streets were emptying of long-term Leeds residents and filling with students and although I knew where I was, I felt helpless, hopeless and lost.
I forget sometimes, because I'm always surrounded by the familiar, that I lost something over the last year. That centres mainly around my ability to cope with fairly normal occurrences.
When I travel down the country to see my parents I am still going from one protected world to another. It makes me feel like a fraud sometimes, as if I'm "swinging the lead" (Mum's terminology). Then something happens like yesterday evening and I think, "Oh yes. Not quite capable of dealing with life yet, are we?"
Working towards it though.
I did not get on the bus back home.
I calmed down, called Carruthers (who has a nice line in de-panicking me) and waited at the Corn Exchange, as I knew it was very close to the offices and would surely be the first port of call.
Sure enough, up comes a group and I joined them.
Never even asked to present my bona fides! But then for all I know, everyone else could have been a regular, so I was an expected addition.
And off we went for a whirlwind tour of some of Leeds' Victorian buildings.
I have to admit I was slightly disappointed. Okay, the start really didn't help, but I was prepared to get all caught up in the tour and leave my broken worrying behind.
It was quite fast, very little story-telling and not much I haven't already seen for myself.
One or two details, yes. But not worth the fare plus the fee, plus the fact I got myself all upset. We walked very quickly between locations, which was fine by me, but I was the youngest by at least 20 years, so it made for impatient hanging around on the part of our guide. And he gave us very dry dates and facts - I know they're volunteers, but I expected more passion. I think I've been spoiled by the professionals, and by "resting" thespians who conduct walks in London.
Some of said details.
You are expected to hear in a civil manner in Leeds!
The splendid Victoria pub - a hotel no longer as it's a listed building, so cannot make the reburbishments needed to bring it into line with safety regulations. Saved from demolition by the Civic Trust and a public campaign apparently. Now that I didn't know.
I had my notebook and pen, but much of what was pointed out that I hadn't noticed before was done in a very offhand manner "... as you can see if you look up there..." so I'm afraid the details of where are a little lost on me now.
Once I find my camera charger I'll go back on a sunny day and do my own tour, taking notes as I go.
I do remember that this building was also saved by the Civic Trust.
That's the trouble when you have too much beautiful architecture. You stop seeing it, and want to knock it down to build something clumsy and ugly instead.
Thornton's Arcade; I'd never noticed the clock at the end, which is (or was) struck by mechanical figures. My photo of it was poor, but you can find it online.
At the other end is a cameo of a lady I think might be Lily Langtree.
Again, it was a bit of a whirlwind and the arcade was closing by then.
Through the County Arcade, where the mosiac work was too high for my mobile phone to pick up, but appreciated by me all the same.
I quite liked my photo of the more modern aspects, so kept it in.
And back to the offices for a buffet.
It was reasonable, but you got ONE DRINK and then they charged you!!!
Which I think is a swizz, because they were serving un-chilled generic soft drinks or table wine, both in those little 125ml wineglasses you only ever see in old-fashioned pubs. And every drink was £1.50 ("suggested donation").
No mention of this whatsoever on any of the literature.
And given there must have been 30+ people out with their three tour guides that night, I think it was stingy.
I told the lady I had no money, because I wasn't aware I should have (the no money bit was 100% true) but that I would make a donation when I came on my next walk. That bit was a lie. £1.50 for room temp fizzy water? Hardly.
So I scoffed up as much food as I could without physically denying it to other people, and took away a few pieces of fruit and leaves in my goodie box. I'm sure that didn't escape the steely eye of the lady grudgingly dispensing the drinks either!
It was a diverting evening.
And if I did go on another walk, I'd know where to meet them. I'm less tempted than I was though.
Which is a shame for them, because I could have been very happy indeed with just a map available beforehand, a crib sheet to read afterwards, and free soft drinks.
Many thanks to Carruthers for tracking this down.
It's from 2009, and if anything the County Arcade is even more posh now.
But Alan Bennett is a wry old bugger, and it's worth watching even eight years later for his wry commentary, as well as the details I was unable to capture.
[YOUTUBE]W93qsJv0T9U[/YOUTUBE]
So today was Otley Show.
The weather was very different then last year, when I wore my little white dress. It was sunshine alternated by long periods of grey cloud, and a chilly wind blew regardless.
I'd been out to pay some bills and make some necessary purchases early on, so I knew it would be cool. Had I realised I was seeing the best of the weather I admit I would have dressed differently - as in taken a hat and especially gloves. But I wasn't ridiculously under-dressed, when the sun shone it was warm, when it didn't everyone shivered. It didn't spoil the day.
I started with a general look-see.
In the Shop Local, Shop Otley tent I saw some silver topped canes. Couldn't afford one, didn't need one, didn't buy one. But just the thing for a debonair man-about-town I thought. Just needs a cape and a topper and a pair of opera tickets.
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And my local favourite patisserie which I have never purchased anything from.
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My milkshake brings all the cocks to my yard...
Yes okay, I do photograph them. But I promise I never actually seek them out.
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They're endemic, I tell you!
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And kelpies of course.
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And this chap was on the Greyhound Rescue charity stall.
As a guest star, obviously.
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I bought some tickets for their tombola, but they saw through my pretence and fixed it so I wouldn't win.
Dog charities are lucky, in that they can always find affectionate and attractive animals to bring along and talk about. Spitting, hissing bundles of fur in cat carriers probably wouldn't have the same effect.
Some ex-racing greyhounds are horribly mistreated though.
(And I had my eye on a Despicable Me minion)
West Yorkshire is apparently replete with old Citroen vans.
Not that I'm complaining - the ones I've seen have looked marvellous.
I wasn't buying.
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I had a ticket that meant I was admitted to the Members' marquee, which saved me from frostbite more than once, and had far superior WCs aside from other benefits.
I'd packed my lunch, and the budget wouldn't have stretched to this meal anyway. But I think it was a pretty good deal all in all. They were charging £5.50 for a pork baguette with apple sauce outside - no trays, no cutlery, no seats and certainly no flowers on the tables out there.
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Marquee before the cold really settled in.
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Dining.
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These were taken early on, as stated.
The metal plate next to the checkered cloth had a pig with its face still on later.
I'd have gone for the salmon.
The Merkins are coming!
The Merkins are coming!
Back to food, I snapped off a few shots for my Mum.
She loves seafood as much as I do. I had a seafood baguette in my packed lunch.
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I'm not sure how they would have fared in this weather - last year, in the sunshine, they sold out pretty quickly. People may have preferred hot pasties, pies and burger this year.
And she loves a bit of Turkish delight.
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The man behind the counter laughed at me taking a photo and said it would be a pound.
I laughed too.
He obviously thought he was funny, so said it again.
So I replied, "I'll tell you what, you can take a photo of me and we'll call it quits."
I didn't mean to be suggestive, but he glanced at the lady serving alongside him and shut up. If she wasn't his wife then I suspect she knew her.
(or it may just have been a "Does she think she's Kate Moss?" look)
I am older and wiser this year, and did not perve over the blacksmiths.
Also, they'd drawn more of a crowd and I couldn't get to the front :rolleyes:
I'd have been there for the warmth at least.
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But I did watch this chap for a while.
I had no use for what he was making, but if I had - and had the money - it would be magical to own something you've seen made in front of you. Not sure how these things work - it could be he was just demonstrating how he makes the things he sells of course.
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Okay, he didn't fall out of the ugly tree either, but it was his professionalism I respected.
Sheep time.
Kudos to anyone who knows what flavour they are. I admit total ignorance and just enjoyed wandering the pens.
Show sheep are bolder than field sheep, and will look you in the eye.
Which is nice.
This photo doesn't capture the drama (!) sadly.
There were a couple of very frisky sheep in the line up, and I had to stifle my giggles as they wrestled with their handlers. Well, you never know if the burly chap stood behind you is related to them. The handler I mean. I think.
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You wanna make something of it?
Attitude sheep.
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Emo sheep.
Please don't leave me here. I'll be good next time.
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And our old friend - rasta sheep!
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I don't even know if this is a sheep.
So much for agricultural shows being educational.
(You can lead a horse to water...)
We met a belligerant ram on our evening walk today. There's a really narrow footpath with wire fence either side, cutting between the farmyard and field on one side and another field with stables and barns on the other. A fucking enormous (and I mean enormous) ram came over to the fence and was being quite curious and friendly to us all (me, mum, Carrot, Nelle) I put my hanf against the fence and he nuzzled it.
Then he decided he'd had enough and started headbutting the fence - presumably trying to headbutt us :P We moved on - then ended up in conversation with the woman who owns the stables and I think is also involved with the farm. Turns out the ram is in a foul mood. His wives and babies are all in the other field attached to the stable (we could hear them) - where the grass is lush. He, however, has been isolated in the other field, in with the chickens where the grass has mostly been eaten by the lambs who'd been there previously. This is because he has got too fat. So - not only has he been removed from his family, he's on a diet. Poor fellah, no wonder he's grumpy.
They daren't go into that field unless one of them goes to the gate at the other side and rattles the feed bucket to lure him over.
Shire horses.
Mare and Foal class winners.
Turns out the ram is in a foul mood. His wives and babies are all in the other field attached to the stable (we could hear them) - where the grass is lush. He, however, has been isolated in the other field... This is because he has got too fat. So - not only has he been removed from his family, he's on a diet. Poor fellah, no wonder he's grumpy.
Indeed!
Winner yearling.
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Winner as above, and Highly Commended (that might not be a horse term, but it's what I understood it as).
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I think these were the two year olds, but the wind had started to play havoc with the tannoys by then.
This was the winner, anyway.
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And a little wee horse thrown in for fun.
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Talking of horse wee.
OMG. I know about pi$$ing like a racist, but these Shire horses...
It was like the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings.
In the Trade tent there was a lovely little independent alcohol seller.
I was actually drawn to it thinking the bottles were some sort of bath unguents. Okay, also because my teen nickname was Cherry Berry, so I think I own it.
Photos were as close as I got.
Pretty though.
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The list of things I didn't buy is far too weary to list here.
I didn't. Anything. Oh... no. "Anything" will do as I don't have a pic.
I would rethink the Wellington boot shot glasses though.
Really?
I hated even putting my hand in mine to search for spiders (and not because I'm scared of spiders).
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I believe the "Highly Commended" means it just didn't win because it was the best that happened to show up, but is definitely a fine specimen.
That sounds about right. I know the term exists, I just wasn't sure it was the one used.
Birds of prey now.
They had a harder time of it this year, because of the wind.
The two shows on the main showground each only featured two flying birds each; one of the vultures and the Sea Eagle. Too likely for them to be blown off course I think.
I paid more attention this year as I am reading the glorious H is for Hawk by Helen MacDonald, where she details her training and flying of a goshawk. I highly (re)commend it.
Close ups from the non-flying part of the show.
And some dogs, to change things up.
This was Billy, whose owner was more interested in her mobile phone than noticing that her dog has his nose in everyone else's lunch. "Billy! No!" she said indulgently when she realised he was trying to scoff a little girl's crisps. And again when he nearly had someone's pate. And when he knocked over someone's drink. Not when he had my food though, because I was wise to his ways and kept it well out of reach.
It wasn't the dog - hey, I owned a food stealing cat - of course he was tempted.
It was the owner who was at fault; strangers shouldn't have to discipline your animal for you lady. He seemed an amiable enough little chap.
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These two were well dressed against the wind, and well controlled.
Probably just as well, as the little red jacketed chap set off a volley of barking at just about everything that moved!
But cute, I admit.
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I wish I'd taken better photos of these two.
This one doesn't do justice to the enormous size of the dog, because it's on an incline. It really was the size of a small pony. Quite startling in real life. And very much under control. Good job as it looks like it could have had everyone's lunch.
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And this photo was just a hurried snap in low light. It makes the poor thing look a little evil, whereas she was a jolly little lass.
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From the Horse and Donkey Sanctuary just down the road from me, which I keep promising myself I will go to.
They have a coffee shop on Boroughgate. I might make it that far at least.
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And working donkeys, which seemed well cared for and happy.
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Pity me that I am too old to ride them.
Just wear a skirt and whisper to the crew cut & tattoo dude you're not wearing knickers. ;)
Not too old to ride a zipwire though.
Yes I did.
Although I had to ask for a translation as the minimum and maximum weights were in kg, which I don't understand.
Turns out the maximum was well above my current weight (phew) although I would have exceeded it at one point.
It wasn't all that high, or that long, but it was my first time ever and I loved it.
I wish I'd had someone to take a photo, but if I'd abased myself enough to ask and they got a rubbish one it would have rankled.
Competition Time!
Once again, I found myself questioning some of the judging decisions. But I don't know their parameters. The categories had changed, of course, but there was still a feast for the eyes.
Jelly in a pint glass.
Aesthetic judging only I assume, as none of them looked tasted.
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We all love to look at other people's work.
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Don't worry hippies. The art of tye-dying is still alive and well in West Yorkshire.
I really liked these.
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Way to make an amateur feel inadequate - photos of photos.
I'd have been proud to take any of these.
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The ever popular miniature gardens.
I'm not sure if they are designed to live for long, but I'd like one in every room.
A very English kind of bonsai.
This one made me want to shrink like Alice.
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Flower arranging: a single bloom.
Didn't win (of course) but when I am rolling in money I shall track this person down and have them do all my floral displays - I found this breathtaking.
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And the category I disagreed most with last year.
Didn't disppoint.
I think I know a little about gift wrapping. And I know which of these I find more exciting.
Hint, it's not the winner.
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There was a note by this one that I couldn't quite read.
I think it broke the rules in some way. Shame, because it was gorgeous.
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This seemed to be the only wooden category this year.
I liked all three, but especially the lighthouse.
(You thought it was going to be the cat boomerang, didn't you?)
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I don't know if this was supposed to be a hare?
Looks like a doe with very long ears. But who would mount a doe? Apart from a stag I mean.
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Now these look more like something you'd find chez Limey.
Although the combination of Father Christmas' beard and the word "stocking" did make me look twice to check what I was reading...
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ARGH!
It's the table of creepiness!!
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Even the poor old Clanger wants to get away, "Save me, save me!"
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Contrasting shots of the food sellers.
I don't think they had a great year. At least not compared to last year.
Early on.
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Later - this is more like it. Although the queues were short and moved quite quickly.
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There were other independent stalls dotted about of course - burger bars, pastie sellers, tea and coffee stands, BBQ. Lots of sweet stalls and ice cream vans.
I felt most sorry for the people selling flavoured ice.
Had I not been worried about losing my hands if I exposed them to the wind I'd have had a cup. Shaved ice is very Japanese in my mind. But I had a cup of tea instead. Yorkshire Tea, so not at all Japanese.
I'm concerned you've forgotten what I look like.
Two rescued animals in need of love and sweet charity.
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This is Rio (named because he was found during the World Cup)
He smelled very ferretty, but I fell in love. He was friendly and lively.
I think the photo came out very well considering the charity worker I asked to take the photo confessed she was pants with cameras. Me too, I felt like saying.
She was very trusting - she turned her back on me completely, emptying a charity box and marking down the amount taken. Not that I would have waltzed out with Rio, but I was flattered that she was happy with the way I was wrangling him.
Just wear a skirt and whisper to the crew cut & tattoo dude you're not wearing knickers. ;)
A ride for a ride? :lol:
My plan was to wear a skirt actually. I even made sure I had my best pair of white knickers ready.
Ended up in my skinny jeans and very glad of them I was too.
White skirts and dresses are very Gatsby darling, but they're not best accessorised by goosepimples and mottled legs.
Traditional entertainment of one kind...
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... or another.
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A more modern attraction.
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Although this could be steam driven and fit in anywhere in the last century or more.
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There are old fashioned swing boats in the background, which are "powered" simply by each child pulling the ropes inside.
I was a child of my time and adored rollercoasters and fast rides - still do - but those little boats would have made me equally happy.
No rabbits this year. No idea why :(
So I took photos of pigeons instead.
Nothing like my minions in the park. These babies look like they're dressed for a night on the town.
This one looks like it's been permed. All over!
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And this one's Mum may have dallied with a peacock.
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And of course the poultry.
Inflatable.
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Teenage eye roll
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Mad as all hell
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Backdoor explosion
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Excuse my technical jargon there.
The stunt riders were back, but their show wasn't as good as last year.
I thought it was just me, that the cold was making me grumpy, but I heard the same sentiment expressed by two other people.
It didn't help that the displays of skill were stymied by the wind. The targets kept being blown over, even the portable rails. And the premise - that the riders were King vs Country for the signing of the Magna Carta needed more explanation than the riding about and whooping of last year. Except that the radio mike didn't fare well in the wind either.
Still, they were very talented and I was able to sit down to watch them. Small mercies.
Ridden Heavy Horses.
Winner
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Second place
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Third, but she got the biggest round of applause. Her horse just would not cooperate. She must have been burning with shame as he chose to go and stand in the centre and look around when he should have been showing off his canter. The judge said he was a very young horse. He might not make it to be a very old horse! The rider seemed reasonably unfazed though, bless her.
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And finally!
The overall horse winners, all in one place.
Handy.
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I didn't photograph the "grand parade" of the sheep and cattle.
Sorry.
Then off to the funfair which is just outside the Otley Show.
The fair was rubbish.
I don't know if it's just that Yorkshire doesn't do fairs well...?
The best one I've seen was a mini-fair in Millennium Square. And that missed the whiff of danger you get from real funfairs.
Or maybe the fairs I remember are a thing of the past now?
If so, it's a shame for the current generation of children growing up.
At least it meant I didn't spend any money.
And then I went home and put a jumper on!
The End
There are some good funfairs but they tend to show up in odd places. There's a good onethat sets up most years up in Shelf. That's the old fashioned kind of fairground - y'knowthe kind : swarthy young lads running the Waltzer and Speedway - screaming kids on the Egg - loud pop music and lots of flashing lights.
There are some good funfairs but they tend to show up in odd places. There's a good one that sets up most years up in Shelf. That's the old fashioned kind of fairground - y'know the kind : swarthy young lads running the Waltzer and Speedway - screaming kids on the Egg - loud pop music and lots of flashing lights.
That's it! That's the fella!
I think I was spoiled by having Thame Fair every year, where they closed off the whole of the High Street. And that had more than a whiff of danger, as all the pubs were still open, so it wasn't just the roustabouts and roundabouts which could harm you...
Thanks for a great write up, Sundae.
Special thanks for the photos of the Shires and the birds of prey.
I'm not that well informed when it comes to breeds of sheep, but I'm pretty sure that's a Swaledale shown in the first photo in
Post #557.
I suspect it had a fairly short journey to the show.
ETA Well done for braving the zip wire!
Curly feathers on a pigeon?! That's just cool.
Now I'm picturing dinosaurs with curly feathers too.
I'm so happy for you that you got to try a zip line. Aren't they fantastic?
Looks like you had a wonderful time! I love the pigeon with the massive up-do!
Sent by thought transference
Yesterday was another Bank Holiday, I had 9p to my name (and a bus pass) so I decided to do what I do best, get out and about with my camera.
I caught the bus a few miles up the road to a little place called Bramhope, which predictive text on my phone likes to render as Bra Hope.
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The weather was slightly changeable, in that there was sometimes slightly less cloud cover, and sometimes drizzle, but in general it was cool and grey.
The landscape from the main road.
Somewhere here is a rather lovely set of arches where the railway crosses a river. I could see it with my naked eye, but cannot find it even when I have the photo on full resolution.
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As you walk along the main road there is a (slightly less than) hairpin turn, which seems to be occasioned by a row of houses clinging to the side of the hill.
The one on the end may previously have been stables or a store room, but from the name it appears to have been a bar at some point at least.
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A real pub.
I've always thought the Dyneley Arms looks like a rather jolly place.
It's rather out on its own though, before the start of the village proper. I imagine it was popular in the days when carts and porters carried items across the Chevin, as it lies at what would have been an important crossroads back then.
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What did I say?
Always someone who wants to be in my photos...
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The first building of (historical) significance is the Puritan Chapel.
Not that you would know that of course, it's not very well signed :rolleyes:
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I tried the door anyway, just in case they thought ot was a Sunday (as I did, all day)
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I will go back and take photos inside one Sunday.
I looked through the windows. It's what you would expect from Puritans really, very wooden, very spare. But beautiful in its own way.
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As you can see the graveyard has been cleared - no doubt to make it easier to maintain. But some of the stones are still here, even if they're not of an age with the Chapel.
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The Lord Protector would not have approved of this.
The hotel right next door offers a rather more profane ceremony. Any takers please send me an enormous ring and I will reply on receipt.
(Actually I'd rather be married from Leeds City Hall, at least it has some history)
Across the road is another church. How many do these people need?
Actually, given that the Puritan Chapel is so very sparse and had fallen into disrepair, I can't say I am surprised.
This one was locked too, but still obviously a thriving church.
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I liked these two donated benches in the grounds.
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Bramhope has some lovely West Yorkshire houses, built of solid stone to keep the cold out. And with enough bedrooms to allow the inhabitants to find other ways of keeping warm in the Winter.
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Pubs fulfill a similar function of course!
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And yet another church within a short walk.
Again this seems to have a decent sized congregation if the activities on the board outside were anything to go by.
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A variation on the greengrocer's apostrophe.
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Some olde worlde barbering tools in the window of what otherwise looked like a pretty funky place. At least I assume these are for tonsorial purposes, barbers used to be unqualified surgeons too (hence the red and white barbers' pole, which signified blood and bandages in pre-literate times).
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Bramhope had a pump, which lies directly opposite the church in post 607.
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The steps that lead up to the road are still there, but they are walled off at the top. I can only imagine the road was a heck of a lot less busy when the pump was still in use.
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What remains of the pump - obviously just the surround and not the metal apparatus.
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WARNING; UNPLEASANT PHOTO
I'll make this one short, if not sweet.
Poor blind bunny, hopping about. Myxomatosis.
He won't have long left at this stage.
Note, I already had my camera out when I realised his behaviour was erractic. I took the shot knowing he was suffering from myxo, because it seemed wrong to look away. If I was a hunter I'd have stepped in and snapped his neck, but as it it he probably has less than 48 hours to live.
Back to the walk.
I headed back to the Dyneley crossroads, and down the hill to Poole-in-Wharefale.
Two houses I passed which were up for sale.
I could fit a lot of Dwellars in here.
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Although I admit a preference for this one.
Closer to the shops for a start!
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Not for sale, but I imagine the property at the end of the avenue has a price that's hard to swallow (geddit?!) Sorry, that was terrible.
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And a rather beautiful row of old cottages, where I would drive my old neighbours crazy by not doing enough gardening, encouraging pigeons, and sunbathing in skimpy attire.
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What a great way to spend the day! Thanks for sharing x
Walked down the hill into Pool-in-Wharfdale proper.
Pretty much on the way home now.
Signpost to prove it, and local hostelries.
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And a trifecta of those British staples, the Post Office, postbox and telephone box.
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The local Anglican church, St Wilfred's.
Much of the village is on a cant, my 9p didn't stretch to trying out the local taverns!
Poor blind bunny, hopping about. Myxomatosis.
He won't have long left at this stage.
Note, I already had my camera out when I realised his behaviour was erractic. I took the shot knowing he was suffering from myxo, because it seemed wrong to look away. If I was a hunter I'd have stepped in and snapped his neck, but as it it he probably has less than 48 hours to live.
I never heard of this disease. How do you know about it? is it a "thing" there?
To prove that the sun shone occasionally, a view on the flat walk home.
In the larger original, you can see the houses at the top of the hill. As I'd taken a circular route, I'd probably passed their fronts earlier.
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A surprising pocket of industry in the middle of nowhere.
Marton Mills, a textile manufacturer (from their website):
The fabric is used in a wide range of applications. In excess of 1000 product lines enable Marton Mills' fabric to be utilized throughout the clothing and furnishing industries, from school wear to military dress, corporate wear to kilts, high end country attire and traditional club blazers. The Turley range offers a collection for ecclesiastical use.
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Weidmann Whiteley is a paper mill (again from their website):
WEIDMANN WHITELEY LIMITED is a bespoke paper mill with a long history of working with customers to provide specific tailor made paper solutions.
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Photos from the park today.
The sunshine is on and off, but I get out to enjoy it while it's there.
The flower beds are coming into their own now.
And the market.
Teeny tiny today, probably because of the Bank Holiday yesterday.
Is this rhubarb?
It's planted on the edge of the market. Obviously for decorative purposes.
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The traditional and the not so traditional, this specialist pet food stall is often here. I prefer the pet shop, as they know me in there.
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This is where the Yankee Doodle Dawdle finishes with a buffet.
Yes, it is a pub. But I go into supermarkets every other day where they sell alcohol far cheaper. I doubt I'll succumb, although I'll make sure I only take enough for a soft drink just in case.
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Some greengrocers/ market stalls know how to spell and don't mangle apostrophes. Promise.
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Note punnets.
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Sparrowgrass in season. I can't justify it, but it has made me crave it.
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They don't have the range of eggs the specialist stall on Saturday has, but many people still buy this way.
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Clothes:
I do love me some scarves, especially up here where the weather is so changeable.
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I took this pic for my Mum, as it's the kind of top she likes.
I wouldn't turn my nose up at it either, so I included it here.
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Full photo of stall; again there are usually many more.
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And that really is the end.
For now.
What a great way to spend the day! Thanks for sharing x
Thanks hon. It did end up being a good day. It started off decidedly dicey (mood-wise) so I did the right thing in getting out, especially as it ended up on a tramp around the other villages.
I never heard of this disease. How do you know about it? is it a "thing" there?
It is indeed a "thing" here.
Not so much as when I was younger, when the sad sight was more prevalent, but it's still common enough to look out for if a rabbit doesn't immediately run away.
Wiki will give you more detail on the history and all but the precis is it may have occurred naturally but it was "improved" and released by man to control rabbit populations in many countries. It's horrible.
Myx was an issue here on Arran and almost wiped out the local rabbit population altogether. I think it's why hares are so prevalent here. There are areas on the island now where rabbits are preponderant. Interestingly this year is the first that I've seen rabbits in the field behind the house, as well as the hares ...
Thanks hon. It did end up being a good day. It started off decidedly dicey (mood-wise) so I did the right thing in getting out, and especially in ended up on a tramp around the other villages ...
In that case doubly well done for getting out from under, literally!
:hug:
I saw a rabbit with Myxomatosis a couple of years ago. Me and Carrot (youngster at the time) followed it at a distance as it sniffed its way laboriously along the lane until it found a break in the wall and could go into the field.
Is this rhubarb?
It's planted on the edge of the market. Obviously for decorative purposes.
It is my considered opinion that rhubarb is only bloodshot celery.
Thanks for the travelogue, Sundae. Well observed and illustrated as always. :thumb:
Pretty sure it's rhubarb. Probably escaped from captivity in the forcing sheds near Wakefield. :)
Oldroyds RhubarbPopdigr loves him some rhubarb pie.
I had a bit of a disappoint on Friday.
Went into Leeds to see my Support Worker and understood she was standing me lunch. Lunch didn't happen, and it was cold and wet in Leeds, so I came home very grumpy.
On the flip side, she's definitely buying lunch this Friday - yay!
And I went into Leeds again yesterday (Saturday) on the same bus pass, as I had things to do I couldn't manage on Friday.
I will admit to you I set out in a filthy mood.
It was still chilly and damp, I missed one bus by about 30 seconds and the next one was late. I very nearly went home in a sulk, but luckily remembered in time I am 42 and not 15 and "you're only hurting yourself, you know".
By the time I came out of the hairdressers (OMG, got my Grade 1 back - lovely and bristly) the weather had cheered up and so had I. I also realised part of my grump was low blood sugar level, so I headed over to the new Pieminister shop/ restaurant to complete the degrumping. It made me sublimely happy.
The staff are young and trendy, but very attentive and friendly. They really seem to enjoy the fact they are working there, and talk intelligently and warmly to the customers. I was offered a window seat, which is kind and unusual for a lone diner in my experience.
The decor is deliberately pared-back industrial. It works, even if I know they had to strip everything out of the unit to get it to that state.
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My window view.
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I had a non-alcoholic cocktail which had real marmalade in it.
It was a bit tart, and the bits got stuck in the straw, but a nice change from the brown fizzy stuff.
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And I was supremely unadventurous when it came to my pie, ordering one I have had from the supermarket before: Moo and Blue. Which is steak and Stilton cheese. I only had it with mash, as you paid for every side separately. But pie n mash are a meal in themselves anyway. I had an apple later, if that counts.
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It came on a wooden board, on an enamelled tin plate.
There was a jug of gravy, but I only used about a teaspoon because the pie - as previously experienced - was rich and moist and bursting with flavour.
I heartily recommend.
The toilets were clean and smelled very good (I think from the really creamy handwash).
The industrial theme was carried through here too.
Off to
Kirkstall Abbey (ruins of).
It's walkable from central Leeds, but hey - have a bus-pass, will travel.
It's one of those new kinda places. Built in 1152.
Leeds are running a month long Food Fair, in various different places May-June. I'm looking forward to the Yorkshire Evening Post (newspaper) showpiece in Millennium Square, but in the mean time there was a Deli market in the grounds of the best preserved Cistercian Abbey in the country. Couldn't say no really.
I don't need to go on about what a lovely location it is, you can see for yourself. What I didn't take any photos of is the river which also runs through the grounds, and the sheer amount of land it's on.
Market time.
There were many (expensive) food-purveyors there.
I was still a little meat-drunk and full of pie thank goodness.
This one had sliders. I don't know if that's an American thing, but I've only become aware of it in recent years. They're basically mini-burgers. These were served on brioche buns, which I am always wary of - good brioche should only ever be eaten alone, with unsalted butter...
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Big expensive sausages for hotdogs.
This was a Polish stall. Even given what I've written above I was tempted. I did control myself though.
There were four different kinds available, even before you started adding toppings. Nomnomnom.
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Again, I'm sure what they did, they did well. But £4.50 for a Breville? You're having a giraffe mate.
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I was startled when I came back and started uploading my photos, to find that Barlow had been working (out in the sunlight!) on one of the stalls.
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I had obviously been fannying about with my camera for too long, because I gave them time to smile and pose. If I'd realised I may have given in and bought some nachos from them. Never underestimate the power of a handsome young man's smile. Or the smell of nachos. Or my greedy belly.
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Another handsome chap. Winner of the Not Smiling With A Moustache Competition I was running that day.
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I don't even....
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The bacon-making kit did not come with a pig.
That makes me suspicious.
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I had some cheese samples. There was a spicy one which was yum, but I didn't want to carry cheese around all day, getting hot and sweaty in my bag. So I just doubled up on the freebies instead. I thought I might like the Rhubarb Crumble one, but it was too sweet for me. Cheese with fruit in always treads a fine line IMHO, and this one was a travesty. Harsh but fair.
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Proper made-by-God-to-be-sweet things.
No temptation for me there.
They must have been good, (although nothing like as amazing as Ali's creations) because there was almost nothing left. And when I did a final tour of the stalls before leaving, there really was nothing left.
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These are the sort of flowers I will fill my home with when I have one.
I loved the ones in old biscuit tins especially. Re-use, recycle, renew.
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Pretty olives.
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Your average market scene.
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From the outside.
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A fun family day out. Or just a day out alone. Well, at least it wasn't raining (unlike this morning)
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As I skipped about taking photos a (slightly merry) Irishman offered to have his photo taken with me for 10p.
Hahaha. I only had a 20p piece.
But what the heck. His equally merry friend took the photo for us!
And bless him, he even tried to look for change for me. I only gave him the 20p for a joke. No doubt he'll regale his friends for quite a while about the day he had a photoshoot with a foreigner.
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Across the road was a building which has been turned into an expensive coffee shop/ gift shop. I was only killing time til the bus came, but it was rather beautiful. Note the plane coming in to land at nearby Leeds-Bradford airport.
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Inside.
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And that's it for today. I'm done!
Thanks for the latest travelogue, Sundae.
Seeing the abbey jogged my memory. I'd quite forgotten that I'd seen it from a passing train some years ago.
I can't for the life of me remember where I was going at the time, mind you. :blush:
Hmm...Guess it really was more about the journey than the destination, then.
Have bus-pass, will travel...
I have become slightly more enamoured of equines recently, and there are two horse/ donkey sanctuaries nearby.
The first rescues donkeys exclusively, but is also is a specialist therapy/ riding centre for disabled children. When they get biddable donkeys they are always trained up for this. One of the girls I worked with at school was an avid rider, so I know how exciting and beneficial it is to children. She rode ponies due to her age and size, but was horse-mad. Although her verbal communication was poor, her whole face lit up when she talked about "her horse". I imagine she'd have felt the same if the local centre had had donks instead.
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This one is not real of course. But rather lovely.
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A very traditional type of donkey, like those we used to feed as children (and unwittingly ruin them no doubt).
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Put it away! Dirty boy.
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These donkeys were in the Stable Yard. Others were out to pasture, and six were actually in inside, in the ring (?) where a session was underway.
There was a blanket ban on photos in there, which I understand - it's not just where vulnerable children ride, it's where vulnerable animals are trained.
My photos make these animals look a little sorry and world-weary, but they were well cared for and obviously loved humans. I just forgot to take photos when I was approached by them! Those within the yard were free to move about.
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A whole Donkey Sanctuary and Cherry finds a cat.
Go figure.
A gorgeous boy. Bet he's a good mouser too.
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It's only a couple of miles off the X84 bus route, but if you ignore things like power lines (and the occasional car) it could be in a different time.
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So today, off to Hope Pastures. Even closer to the bus route, but with more land, better facilities and horse/ pony focused (although they have a few mules).
They do not offer riding therapy as far as I could tell, and many of their animals are rescued in order to heal and be adopted back into loving and caring homes.
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Two cases in point.
Raphael and Merlin were adopted from a lady who had rescued them herself, but in the end lacked the land and funds to properly assist them. They're Welsh ponies, and were stallions. No-one wants a stallion as a pony (a worker told me) but she couldn't afford to get them gelded.
Hope Pastures took them in, did the deed, and they are both due to be released to pasture by the end of this week. They have adjoining stalls, and the staff would like to think they'd be adopted together, but they know it's unlikely. Still, they're young, good natured and rather beautiful, so they are unlikely to be there for long.
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They also rehabilitate battery hens - take them in til their feathers grow back, let them learn to be real chickens and then offer them up for adoption. I saw a few while I was there. This however is not a chicken, as you may well spot. This turkey has been with them for five years. The family who bought her found they could not kill her after all, but could not keep her. She's happy (whatever that means!)
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Buttercup came in with what they suspected was a case of worms; she had a bloated abdomen. Obviously in a place like this, the vet is contacted as soon as an animal arrives.
Not worms; a foal!
Duchess was born on the same day as Princess Charlotte, and thus named Duchess. Which makes her a month old. Buttercup is a lovely friendly mare. the only reason my photos are at a distance is I was too busy paying her attention and cooing over her still gangly foal to reach for my camera when they came closer.
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I didn't catch this horse's name, or even gender. I assume mare from the pink halter, but who am I to make gender assumptions?!
But s/he is rather beautiful. Last horse to be groomed before going to the paddocks for the day.
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The cottage onsite. There is a chicken hidden in this photo.
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The Wall of Remembrance. Some of these lived to a ripe old age, some were simply unable to survive the conditions they arrived with.
Would we were all so simply and kindly remembered.
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Just some of the lovely horses and ponies I met.
This place was a great way to spend a morning. All the staff - from the hard working stable hands and grooms, to the lady who was only there to knit for the gift shop, were so full of commitment and love for the work they were doing.
Given my druthers, I would still volunteer with cats. It's how I'm wired. But don't be surprised if when I'm ready, Hope Pastures features. Don't worry, I'd be pouring tea and selling chocolate, not pretending I know how to groom a horse (even apart from the fact they'd spot me a mile off as a fraud!)
What wonderful photos. I enjoy it when you post pictures. You got some great ones this time. Good subject matter too.
A horse, donkey, or ass that will stand still make great pictures.
re grooming ... your likelihood of getting scratched is far less. hm? think about it.
I loved this trip too! Thanks Sundae. :)
In a way, you might find it less painful than caring for cats 'cos you'd want to take all the pussies home, but there's not room in your flat for a horse, nor a donkey nor even a wee Shetland pony ...
Sent by thought transference
I suppose it would be less painful really.
I think more about the arriving and handling than I do about the leaving and the long journey home alone.
(I am talking about volunteering for a cat charity here, not dating).
Yesterday I went to Leeds to meet my Support Worker at Roundhay Park.
I had looked forward to it; certainly in my eagerness I set off far too early, but I figured as it was a warm day I could feed the ducks before she arrived. I did faff about in Leeds a bit, but I was over an hour early at that point.
Only to have her call to check I was on my way, on the understanding that we were meeting 30 minutes before the time I had written down.
Things that make you go hmmmm - I wrote down the time of the meeting as we discussed it, in front of her. We had also never met on a half hour before, only on the hour, so it would have been a break from our usual pattern. And who calls someone 25 minutes before a meeting? Surely you either call them early enough to get them going if they've forgotten, or you don't call at all.
Anyway, it was all rush rush rush from then on as I had 25 minutes, not 55.
I switched from foot to foot to make the connecting bus come more quickly, and rolled my eyes at every traffic light we got stuck at for the same reason. I then ran (well, trotted) all the way down the hill from the bus stop to the lake where we were meeting. Made it by the skin of my teeth and was actually impressed with my own fitness. Although it wasn't very far I admit.
I didn't call her out on my suspicions that she changed the time of the meeting. I owe her for not giving up on me when I was going through a patch where I found it very difficult to stay in contact.
The plan was to have our meeting outside the Lakeside Cafe, where she bought me lunch.
Which we did.
My little eyes nearly popped out of my head at the cost though. All things considered I'd rather have had a nice veggie curry at one of the many independent fast food places along the road. Still - I won't be eating here again, so I just settled back and enjoyed it.
The lake.
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The rest of the deck.
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My club sandwich (no tomato). It took 30 minutes to arrive and the toast was burnt. I daren't ask for a replacement.
£7.50 for the sandwich and crisps, £2.00 for the half pint of Diet Coke.
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Back to Leeds - it was too windy by the lake to spend the rest of the afternoon there, and I really wanted to see the Food Festival while I had a bus ticket.
On the way from the bus-stop to Milennium Square I stopped to listen to a jolly group of musicians. No sousaphone though.
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At this point it was warm and muggy, but the brilliant blue sky had already clouded over. People still seemed glad to be out on a Friday afternoon anyway. I think Sunday will be the best day of the lot - we've had very blustery wind today, which played merry havoc even with Otley's little market.
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I was glad I'd eaten, because otherwise I would have been very tempted by so much that was on display. It would have been cheaper (for them) and more fun (for me) to meet here to be honest...
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Lots of outside bars, which is why they have a specially cordoned off entrance (even though entry is free). It gets around street drinking laws.
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Took this one for Mum - she is a fan of sitting in the sun drinking Prosecco.
Which she is probably doing as I type this, as she's on holiday.
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Don't feel sorry for the empty stalls, certainly not those selling booze. They'll be doing a brisk trade this weekend.
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Hands up who wants a burger?
I suspect they were not actually made from dogs' hearts.
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Colourful Indian street food. And it did smell good.
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So it turns out we do call them gyros in this country.
Or at least the Greeks do. The rest of us go with the Turkish name of kebab.
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Mussels; whiten your smile and put hairs on your chin. Apparently.
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As this pot is best friends with so many types of dead animal, it's probably best it's not vegetarian.
Does sound good though.
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I wanted to taste this. Trouble is I really like rhubarb and have been known to be a bit partial to Limoncello. Decided it was better to give it a miss.
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This one did not even tempt me.
See there's wine, and there's chocolate. I like one too much, and the other not as much as many other of my gender.
Putting the two together seems to lessen the attraction still more.
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I liked this. Even if I know old-fashioned deckchairs demand a blood sacrifice before opening properly (bruising at the very least).
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All the foreigners were there...
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Lots of burgers and hot-dogs available, all pushing their Unique Selling Points and their quality meat credentials.
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I'm not really sure ow happy the pig would be. It is standing in front of a stall where they are selling the dead after all. Which isn't to say I didn't want to join in and eat one.
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And finally!
I found Pintxos/ Pinchos in Leeds! (I can't take any credit, they weren't hiding them or anything).
They're like tapas, but more substantial, and based on bread. They're held together with a toothpick or little wooden stake; the name literally means spike.
I haven't ever had them in this country - the last time I had them was in Amsterdam.
If you're eating alone they're better than tapas, because you don't have to eat a dish of the same things, or over-order to get some variety.
I stood and chatted to the ladies on the stalls for a little while; they're used to having to explain the concept. Still didn't get a sample...
Food on a stick is very common fair fare here. Most often it has been fried. I've even had a deep fried Snickers bar. I've heard tales of deep fried sticks of butter. I heard a story on the radio once where the fellow deep fried his microphone. While it did produce a nice buzz, the result was static-y and altogether too crunchy sounding for my taste.
While it did produce a nice buzz, the result was static-y and altogether too crunchy sounding for my taste.
Must've been the extra-crispy.
Over here the top one would be a shish kebab and the bottom one a donor kebab.
I don't care if owls aren't the in thing any more.
I loved these colourful bags on Otley market today. They were reasonably priced if you were in the bag buying income bracket and didn't already have a drift of unused bags at home...
The mid-sized one looks like it would happily take a paperback.
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Although if I included minion-food, camera and phone I'd have to go for the largest.
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But maybe the littlest (cheapest and prettiest) could be my church-going bag. Room enough for comb and mirror (for purposes of looking respectable) and some pennies for the collection plate.
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Not that I was really thinking about it of course.
When I went out first thing this morning it was overcast and muggy. Went to the library later it was proper raining. However by the time I left the library the rain had cleared and I figured, "Why not watch the Carnival go by?"
I'm glad I did, it was good fun.
And some of the participants had made such an effort.
I mean in terms of a typical British carnival (usually local music groups, youth groups, schools and marching bands) not the mardi gras style carnivals.
There are lots, but if you keep going there might be one or two which catch the eye.
I didn't take a photo of every single float, and I haven't used every photo I took. It took approximately an hour for them all to pass. I did scuttle down a back alley to catch another shot of two groups that had impressed me; missed one, caught the other. I thought about going to the Carnival field, but it's really just a way of extracting money from people for the groups involved - tombolas, raffles, cake stalls etc. I'd have been miserable smelling yummy hotdogs and not buying. So I came home happily and had a late lunch.
Bands on foot.
Usually the more traditional, and not entered into any competition as far as I know.
The Scots get everywhere:
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One of a number of brass bands:
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Brass and flags and a Routemaster bus coming up behnind; what's not to like?
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The Otley Ukulele Orchestra.
One of the ladies at church plays in this; I didn't see her, but she may have been on the other side of the float. They were marvellous.
Steel band, making a joyful noise.
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The Carnival Princesses got a lovely car
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The Carnival Queen and attendants had a lorry :lol:
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But that's okay, as the visiting Kings and Queens (from local Carnivals) had a lorry too.
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Could you not get a closer shot than that, Cherry?
No I couldn't.
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Consider tha'sen named and shamed, lady (even though I don't know your name). Nice dress though.
I lost some nicely set up shots that way.
Traction engine.
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Obviously very much in keeping with the local vibe of the day...
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Walkers.
No, not the Walking Dead type. Local schools, nurseries, clubs. All delighted it's not raining. It's not a long course - can't be more than two miles and probably closer to one. Long enough to be excited and see all the family cheer you on, not long enough to start grizzling.
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Carnivals; they're a Dad-thing too.
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Okay, I never wanted to be a Princess growing up. But I did want to be a fairy.
One of the ones who steals teeth and curdles milk though.
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Gnomes get an easy ride.
Or maybe they were cemented in place.
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The 101 Dalmations were having the time of their lives - a very excited little bunch of people.
Another happy band - I just couldn't make out the banner, except that it's Class 4 from a primary school (ages 7-8 generally).
I can see lots of work by the TAs behind the scenes here :)
ETA - it's Ashfield Primary School.
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In a wheelchair?
You can still come to the Ball!
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Dance troupe:
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No idea who these guys were supposed to be...? One of your new-fangled television shows I presume.
Very well done.
Donkey Sanctuary (see post a while back for my brief visit there).
A small showing, but a good one. They won the window dressing competition for their class too.
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Ringmaster is suspicious of pink hair and cameras...
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... and worried he might be recognised as Bill Bailey.
Walkers...
No, real Walkers. From the Otley Zombie Run, which raises money for local charities every year.
This is their website if you want to read more. It's basically an interactive run with map reading, puzzles and zombies. And no, it's not exclusive to Otley, but I will try to be present to spectate this year.
And these are their walkers - all very much entered into the spirit of things without terrifying the children.
Thanks for posting those pictures, Sundae.
They're all great and you obviously enjoyed the parade.
I'd love to have heard the ukelele orchestra.
What a great show! Thanks for sharing, Sundae!
Sent by thought transference
so much fun!
See:
Slenderman.
That wasn't Slenderman - that was the Silence.
Point taken. You're right.
Lots of burgers and hot-dogs available, all pushing their Unique Selling Points and their quality meat credentials.
I think I now understand where Terry Pratchett came up with
Cut Me Own Throat Dibbler.
Described as Discworld's most enterprisingly unsuccessful entrepreneur, a 'merchant venturer' in Ankh-Morpork, he is most famous for selling meat by-products to unsuspecting souls. His name originates from his catchphrase 'I'll sell it for less, and that's cutting me own throat.'
When Dibbler's business plans fail, he falls back to selling (mostly) 'pies with personality' and 'pig' sausages-in-buns on the streets of Ankh-Morpork. He has been accused of 'not being able to make both ends meat.'
See: Slenderman.
Sorry, V. I was being deliberately disingenuous (aka pretendy-confused). Dr Who is prime time TV here, so even those who don't watch the show would probably recognise the characters. The Scouts did a bang tidy job though.
I think I now understand where Terry Pratchett came up with Cut Me Own Throat Dibbler.
See, I always thought of Dibbler as a cockney geezer.
But mebbe he does work as a Yorkshireman.
Nah - too chatty for a Yorkshireman.
Otley Food Festival today.
Great fun, freebies and noms.
What are they feeding these folk?!
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Entertaining the kinder.
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I didn't, but I wanted to.
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Yorkshire haggis. I didn't even want to.
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Healthier Yorkshire fare.
Even if it's technically foreign (EAST Yorkshire after all).
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We get all sorts here you know...
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Now this did appeal.
Lola will approve; I had pork dumplings and they were very good.
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I went to three free cookery demos.
And sampled food at all of them. Very, very good - this place is great when the sun shines!
I especially enjoyed the Italian cookery demonstration; a Sardinian chef who makes his own cheese (it's entered into the Great North Show which I'm going to next week). A marvellous blue ewe's cheese.
The restaurant/ cafe across the street were also giving out free samples. Really good food. Although the tiny hidden pieces of cucumber in the marinated salad repeated on me all afternoon, reminding me of why I don't eat it.
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I think it was a great success.
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Looks delish!
Sent by thought transference
I have many, many photos from The Great Yorkshire Show. So even though I've culled them, I'll be rambling on for days. Just so you know.
The Show is held at the Great Yorkshire Showground in Harrogate and It Is Enormous.
I was told by more than one person that you couldn't see it all in a day, but it's $37 to get in (my ticket was a birthday present) so you just do what you can.
Facts and figures:
- Largest agricultural show in England
- 250 acre site
- approx 135,00 visitors for the three days it's on
- Lots of fit farmers and squaddies (okay, maybe that's not a fact)
I left later than intended. The usual start to all of my photo threads.
I jabbed myself in the eye with a mascara wand. Said eye-leaking meant I had to remove the small amount of tasteful make-up I'd applied, because it was running down my face. So I went bare-faced. Which was okay, but I wish I'd looked like I made an effort, rather than hiding behind my sunnies like a battered wife.
Bus to Harrogate, which took 30 mins longer than usual, because of Show traffic.
I was sort of okay, but starting to get a bit antsy at the woman behind me, who thought her husband was blind. He wasn't, he had a newspaper, it it wasn't even in that special bumpy writing.
"Oh, there's a church."
"Oh a pub."
"They're all outside."
"That's the park, then."
So I stabbed her with my eyeball-seeking mascara wand.
Okay, what I really mean is I scrambled off that bus asap, and got in the queue for the next; the shuttle bus to the Showground.
I have to say it was all very well organised. We waited ten minutes, true, but it was a free transfer and the bus left as soon as it was full. They actively encourage people to take public transport to the Show, because it frees up valuable space that would otherwise have to be given over to car-parking.
First thing I saw as I walked in?
The wheel.
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Can't help it. love me a wheel. And I figured it would give me a great vantage point to see the Show. Blimey.
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I'm trying not to overload this with photos of me, as there are so many other things to show you. But this one almost counts as scenery.
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I think these are the arches I saw on my walk to Bramhope. Closer this time.
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The wheel from a bit more of a distance.
Another perfect birthday-treat-day.
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This stall sold really beautiful children's clothes.
I'd have bought two of their jumpers for the twins' Christmas presents... If they hadn't been £30 each. Soz boys, I don't even get to spend that on ME!
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Kites n flappy things.
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Stall above sold hats as well as kites.
I did not need a kite.
I did not need a hat, either.
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I really wanted a hat and a kite.
Guess what I bought? (yeah I know, you already saw it in the RFN thread)
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I blame Dana. She showed me it was okay for a woman to wear a hat these days.
Barely gone 11.30 and already the food stalls are mobbed.
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I did not take my own food to this Show. It was my birthday treat!
I had a pasty. Later than it sits in this thread, but it was from this stall. £4, which is shocking really. But no different from the other prices, which averaged out at £6 for even less filling food.
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That's a great outing! And the weather was spectacular.
My old friend lives in Harrogate, her name is Alayne, did you see her??
(No because she is anti-social and as such would probably not be interested in a fair.)
That Big Wheel is an impressive structure.
I just wonder how long it takes to assemble and dismantle at each new site.
The transportation of it must be a formidable task as well.
A marvellous blue ewe's cheese.
I'm guessing the blue ram's cheese was something less marvellous...
Barely gone 11.30 and already the food stalls are mobbed.
Apparently that happens in Boston too. :eek:
I have very little interest going anywhere that has lines like that.
An airport is the only place I can think of that I'm willing to stand in a line like that.
Cogs in a wheel...
No wait, spokes in a gear...
No wait, .... Oh. Nevermind
The queues do move quickly, because the stalls are well staffed. Plenty of people bring picnics or decide to eat earlier/ later if they want hot food.
It's the queues for the Ladies toilets which I find eye-popping. You have to plan well in advance! I just wonder what people DO in there?! I mean I know what they're supposed to be doing, but I've timed them (I am that puzzled) and they're taking four minutes sometimes. I'm in and out in under 30 seconds. The stalls (cubicles) do not have mirrors or sinks; those are in the main area. So no-one is doing make-up or OCD multiple handwashing. Maybe their knickers are really tight or something...
Anyway - woodies!
Arrrrgh...
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Grrrrrrr...
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A reminder of home
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The skinniest horse I saw that day
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Mare and foal, to complete the set
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Who is Billy? Why does he have a bus that makes potatoes?
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I didn't go in, but it's all terribly Yorkshire.
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Heading down to another part of the Show.
Passed a few beer tents, and people picnicing at tables or on the grass, enjoying the weather.
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The Birds of Prey Show was on at this time on one of the grounds, but I've seen it twice now at Otley Show, and there was such a crowd there. So I kept on going, to see things I haven't seen before.
Countryside Alliance tent. No thank you, I don't want to join.
Foxhounds, I believe.
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These are used for coursing, although these days they have to be muzzled.
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For a group that swore the Government would break the rural economy completely if they banned hunting with dogs, they Alliance seemed to have a nice tent and all be quite well-heeled. Florid faced gents in tweed with pints of bitter and ladies in hats with glasses of Pimms...
Lots of shops.
The man at this stall was so determined I try some of his fudge I thought he was going to chase me through the marquee! He just kept coming up with new flavours to try and tempt me. After saying No Thanks about four times I told him I was diabetic :o
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Every shade of hair catered for!
My ape is better quality though.
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I adored these photo frames. I couldn't justify buying one, as it wouldn't fit the style of decor here (early-crack-house) or in fact that of anyone who wouldn't have a fit if I spent that amount of money. So I just enjoyed them where they were, which in hindsight was plenty good enough.
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Urgh. No.
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Oddly, the stall with the hideous clown had some really nice things.
I loved the bowls and mugs.
Bright primary colours, cats and patterns. And something clean to eat and drink from. Oops, that may have been my initial attraction. So I didn't buy, because they'd probably just get dirty if I used them and didn't wash up. So weird how that only started happening when I loved alone...
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Exciting wall of keyrings/ bag charms.
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I loved.
But I already have a new lanyard to try and stop me locking myself out AGAIN.
He is cute though.
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Baa baa bride sheep.
Although both look like girls, so it's an ovine lesbian marriage (once you let the gays marry, it's a slippery slope!)
Cows.
It was a hot day, and at this point the initial judging had already been done, so they were mostly just having a kip.
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Parade of the champions.
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It's easy to forget just how big they are sometimes.
There was an exciting bit where an Aberdeen Angus decided it was a leader, not a follower, and made a break for it, nearly knocking over part of a showjumping fence.
But I was quite a way away, and so I had the camera on zoom. I was laughing too much at the Benny Hill style chase scene, not one photo is usable...
Well done, Sundae. Pic's are great and I really enjoy your commentaries.
... "(early-crack-house)" is my favorite today
Foxhounds you say? They look like straw dogs to me.
Thanks for today's tour Sundae!
Nah, straw dogs are Cornwall, not Yorkshire ;)
Okay, I was going to move onto the pigs next. But I've promised Carruthers the horses/ ponies since Wednesday and he's been very patient.
Somehow, I found myself wandering into the stable block, which is not open to members of the public. As I went in, I heard someone else told this, and asked to see her pass, so as she fumbled in her bag I kept on walking. Well I figured I'd play the dumb tourist if someone caught up with me, and there's a lot to be said for walking with confidence and looking as if you belong.
Also, I knew I had nothing more nefarious planned than taking some photos. Except patting a horse's neck later, but that was innocuous enough - especially as the sign warned he might bite - AND with his owner's permission.
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Jester from a previous photo, but without me standing in front of him this time.
Heavy horses, with polished wagons :)
These did display on the main Showground, but I'd left it a bit late to head over there, and one of the horsey-girls I spoke to said I'd get much closer to them if I stood on the approach, rather than heading for the seating.
As I was walking about photographing, she worked out my needs quite accurately.
It was really quite moving to see them go by in all their glory. I've never seen so many in one place (I've cut this down to the best quality photos).
Our man from The Islands.
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Is everyone on Bute this happy, Limey?
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Now when I wandered into the stableblocks, I did actually do it by accident. It was just that I didn't turn round again once I knew I was trespassing.
However this chap, I actually sweet-talked into letting me go into the Hospitality Area in order to use the Ladies. I was entitled to go into one of the marquees, but it certainly wasn't this one, which was a permanent structure and very posh.
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I did only use the loo though, it's not like I went in there, shook my boobies at the rich old men and danced on the tables in my knickers singing "Happy Days are Here Again!" No, that's not me protesting too much. I actually didn't.
I did use liberal amounts of their very nice handwash and hand lotion though. So there.
[YOUTUBE]HzCvljJIJQw[/YOUTUBE]
Jethro Tull – Heavy Horses Lyrics
Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dust,
An October's day, towards evening,
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough,
Salt on a deep chest seasoning.
Last of the line at an honest day's toil,
Turning the deep sod under,
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the bone,
Flies at the nostrils plunder.
The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the Percheron vie
With the Shire on his feathers floating.
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
To bed on a warm straw coating.
Heavy Horses, move the land under me.
Behind the plough gliding slipping and sliding free.
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do:
The tractor's on its way".
Let me find you a filly for your proud stallion seed
To keep the old line going.
And we'll stand you abreast at the back of the wood
Behind the young trees growing.
To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth,
And your eighteen hands at the shoulder.
And one day when the oil barons have all dripped dry
And the nights are seen to draw colder
They'll beg for your strength, your gentle power
Your noble grace and your bearing.
And you'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls
In the wake of the deep plough, sharing.
Standing like tanks on the brow of the hill
Up into the cold wind facing
In stiff battle harness, chained to the world
Against the low sun racing.
Bring me a wheel of oaken wood
A rein of polished leather
A Heavy Horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather.
Bring a song for the evening
Clean brass to flash the dawn
Across these acres glistening
Like dew on a carpet lawn.
In these dark towns folk lie sleeping
As the heavy horses thunder by
To wake the dying city
With the living horseman's cry.
At once the old hands quicken,
Bring pick and wisp and curry comb,
Thrill to the sound of all
The heavy horses coming home.
The draught horse teams are magnificent.
So, having wordlessly convinced a horse owner that I can handle bitey horses, talked a poor young man into letting me trespass, I was now fearless.
I helped to corral a run-away pig.
To be fair, I have actually been around pigs, as I've known a few owners, and used to feed them on a farm sometimes. And luckily, being a show-pig it is used to being around random people and assuming they have food. But I was pleased when it came to me. I mean, I had food in my bag, so it was cupboard love. But I didn't squeal and whip my bag away, I just rubbed its ears patted it and said softly, "Soooeeee, pig-pig-pig" which is what we used to say to Joanne's pigs back in the day.
The story goes... There was a BBC crew filming a section with a pig. Owner/ handler standing by, but when they go for a second take, off trots the pig, tired off this filming lark. So handler shoos it back.
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The crew decide they can work that in, they like it (it's for a children's programme - Blue Peter). So they set up again, with the presenter saying, "So the good thing is with pigs, they'll come to you if they like you" or something along those lines, and off-mike, off-camera, the handler rattles the food bowl and the pig runs off on cue. Hahaha.
Except piggy knew what was in food bowl this time. Boring old pig food. So she went for the sound-man's bag. Much more amusing for those of us watching, sadly can't be used for the show, as the pig is out of shot.
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That's when it heads for my bag, which I put down to take photos and enjoy the scene.
I then become Assistant Pig Keeper.
Okay, not really. But in my own mind I saved the bacon by keeping the pig there until it could be properly taken back back again.
However I thought it best to leave before I started to get over-confident and ask for my name to be included in the show credits.
Better behaved pigs.[ATTACH][ATTACH]52642[/ATTACH][/ATTACH]
it's for a children's programme - Blue Peter
Blue Peter sounds like part of the Westminster Pedophile Ring. :haha:
For me the heavy horse classes are always the best part of any agricultural or horse show, so thanks for picturing the 'big lads', Sundae. :thumb:
And all the others, of course!
Blue Peter sounds like part of the Westminster Pedophile Ring. :haha:
The dead one?
I won't bore you with the real meaning as I know you were joking. It
is naval though, so although
there is no sexual deviance in the programme, there is a
tenuous connection with the name (via rum, sodomy and the lash etc) :eek:
Biddy Baxter would be turning in her grave. If she was dead.
Another Citroen van.
I swear there must have been a Yorkshire Regiment in WWII "liberating" them.
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A wonderful four-piece band. Comedy songs ala Flanders & Swann. Wish I'd got their name. I only caught about seven minutes of their set - they looked like the sort of chaps who had the repertoire to play all afternoon.
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Reynard. Not sure if he was for sale. And if so, was he a topiary base, or supposed to stay basket weave?
Such are the mysteries of the Great North Show. We need DI Banks up here.
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Sorry to any real agricultural show fans, but unless I discover some hidden ones, that's the animals done. There was just too much to see - I could only make it round a small part. So I'm sharing what I saw.
Anyway, animals are the same the world over.
This is Harrogate.
Dear.
Gravdigr, this also looks like something the cat sicked up.
Although I didn't tell it to the young dark-haired Yorkshire beauty who came and sat at my table to eat it.
Couldn't help pulling an involuntary face though: Banoffee Waffle. What a way to waste a waffle.
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I don't know who Ella is, but apparently when we get together we do BLUE.
The clothes were gorgeous.
I couldn't afford them even if I didn't eat or pay any of my bills this month.
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I took a close-up of these birds because they were so lifelike. The whole stall was full of similarly well-rendered (not literally) animals. But I grinned really wide, because they were so beautiful, and split my coldsore. So I had to make a sharp exit.
Do not bleed on the precious things of the shop, Sundae.
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Awwwww.
She knows who this is for. And it wasn't the only thing there I could (would I mean) have bought for Dwellars. Stunning.
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Ha!
or should I say hi hi hi!?
These are the last. So they don't necessarily fit together.
Cars:
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Sorry, I can't tell you any more about them than that! I expect someone with moar knowledge will step forward. They were lovely and shiny.
And the OB set of a BBC teatime show called The One Show, who broadcast live that day.
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I stayed to watch about half, then wandered off, got on the wrong shuttle bus, had to walk back to Harrogate centre, got lost, missed the last bus back to Otley, ended up in tears and was eventually picked up by a friend's daughter (who was NOT impressed). Bloody Matt Baker.
Aside from the embarrassing finale to the day, it was absolutely gorgeous.
Just a few pics from Dr DanaC's ceremony in Leeds.
Going into the Great Hall.
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Staircase in all its Victorian glory.
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Worthies on the stage.
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The Gallery, for the poorly organised people who arrived later than we did :lol:
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The Dr as part of the procession out.
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Only I could spot myself in a mirror from this distance...
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I am in Slytherin now. I am teh serious.
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Oh! I know! Let's go back to my place and watch Lost!
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Have cock, will pose.
Yes, on behalf of the Cellar I awarded Danielle the Noble Order of the Cock.
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Cock on own, not being overshadowed by real educational achievements.
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She took it in very good fun. And if it was smashed on return home then I needn't know.
It may have lost the teeniest tip of a tail feather...
I am in Slytherin now. I am teh serious....
Oh! I know! Let's go back to my place and watch Lost!
I laughed so hard. I am still laughing.
Thanks for your awesome reportage. I will get the photos from the two Js to you v. soon.
You always deliver good cock, Sundae! That hare is teh awesome, too! Thanks for the pic (better than the real thing as requires no dusting ;) ).
Thanks for posting these! I feel like I was there. Way to go, Dr. Dana.
Sundae is in Leeds this afternoon and decided she was going to enjoy a fun fair ride. I'm not sure what it is called but it looks terrifying!
Received on my phone a short while ago, the image was rotated by 90deg in a clockwise direction from that which you see here. I
think it should be shown this way.
Everyone laughed and whooped on the ride, honest.
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Me all ready for the off - note handy elasticated band on my hat. For keeping it on during fairground rides I assume. I wore it with the band tucked inside the rest of the day. From Poundland. Bargain.
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Maybe I whooped more than most.
I'd had a bad day, I needed to let it all out (it actually got worse later, so I'm glad I did!)
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So. I went to Harewood House the other week.
It's a stately home, close to Leeds. Not that close as it turns out, but I won't mention that again for a while.
In the grand old English tradition, it is not pronounced as it is written, instead it is Harr-wood.
The Harewood (see above for pronunciation) family still live on the premises, but not in the main part of the house. Since visiting I found out my Grandad used to serve one of them when he worked at the Covent Garden Opera House. I don't remember which one it was, which is probably just as well, as it means I can't be sued; in Grandad's opinion not only was he not a real gentleman, but he was (quoting Mum, quoting Grandad) "a stupid arse."
Anyway, that's all by the by.
This was a late birthday treat, and I am sharing it with you.
From the outside.
I came by bus.
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Walk through the arch with the cars zooming past you - not one sod stops and asks if you'd like a lift, even though you're all obviously going to the same place!
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Turns out there is a stop for a "shuttke service" just to the left of the arch. You'd have to know it was there, though. I didn't.
Not that I mind walking, it's just the fact I had to walk on the grass like a poor relation, as there's no pavement. And I'm telling you them motor cars is quick.
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I'm not detailing my encounter with the lady at the ticket booth.
But here I am at the House.
And after all, it is beautiful.
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Inside, you can't take photos with a flash.
So as it was a typically overcast West Yorkshire day, the light inside wasn't great. I have many blurry photos.
I've culled the better ones for you.
Always showing off my bust.
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There was a whole cabinet of these, showing various stages of drunk and disorderly.
I liked.
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Next stop - the crapper.
Literally, as it was designed by Thomas Crapper.
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Then the gorgeous Chinese Bedroom.
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As above. Bedroom. Chinese. Lovely.
I'll get back to Harewood House in a bit.
But these were Leeds, yesterday. Never found out why, but cheered me right up, I'll tell thee.
Seriously, you're walking down the street and just happen to bump into Obi Wan.
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Then he just insists on having his picture taken with you.
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As does Boba Fett.
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But Darth is more into a staring out pugs mood.
Hey, that's cool. Not every single man in the Galactic Empire has to fancy you, right?
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[COLOR="White"]I'm not actually that deluded. They didn't really fancy me.
Except Obi Wan Kenobi, who cheekily grabbed my butt.[/COLOR]
What fun! (Lovely cardigan!)
I think I know that Obi Wan guy - he looks really familiar. Maybe he's from Leeds uni.
Isn't there a new Star Wars film about to release?
In Britain's Star Wars the Stormtroopers are outfitted with whistles instead of blasters.
fanboi punchline: they get the same hit ratio.
Lovely cardigan!
I know! And the odd thing is, I don't even remember buying it. It's like it appeared magically one day, like The Shopkeeper.
Isn't there a new Star Wars film about to release?
You may have seen old Ben Kenobi somewhere.
Like in a film.
Or any old man in a dressing gown :lol:
Thing is, they weren't doing any kind of active promotion.
They were just walking about together, posing for photos (and occasionally copping a feel.)
Not complaining about having SW come to life on the streets of Leeds.
And even the hand on the butt was possibly an accident, not a '70s era squeeze.
In Britain's Star Wars the Stormtroopers are outfitted with whistles instead of blasters.
fanboi punchline: they get the same hit ratio.
The lads had big weapons. I didn't ask them about their accuracy. See above re '70s era naughtiness.
(I did LOL, UT)
I protest! I only made the remark about the cardigan!
Sent by thought transference
Back in October last year I took a trip to Ilkley and never got round to writing it up.
It's only just up the road, but more expensive and chi-chi - it's a Victorian spa town and it's really rather beautiful.
It's butted right up against the moors, and flood water pours into it every time it rains (according to what I've been told - I've never seen it in full flood.) Apparently the best fun of all is when there is overnight rainfall then a freeze, turning all the main streets into skating rinks and demolition derbies.
Anyway. This was a sunny late-October day and I did enjoy myself.
I don't really do the town justice, but I'm an individual, not a tourist blogger, so what you see is what you get.
The Winter Gardens (theatre).
I'd love to see something there, but it would probably have to be a matinee as I'm not sure how late the buses run. I shall make that my 2016 resolution.
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Just round the corner is what I assume is the Theatre Bar.
I just liked the old advert on the side really.
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Various shop windows:
Funny looking men in this town.
(Note, still in flip-flops)
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Foxes in boxes!
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Ilkley isn't cheap.
This is considered their special deal. £5 is $7.28 according to my converter. That is coffee and cake, not a meal.
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A bacon sarnie & a cup of tea would be half this price on Leeds market.
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I didn't eat out. I went to Greggs (cheap bakery chain) and then sat in my flipflops on a bench, in watery sunshine, having a lovely time.
The good thing about this part of the world, is that although travelling is always more fun if you're not on a tight budget, there is still an awful lot of pleasure to be had from just walking and looking. That applies to most places I've been, it's just that I've done more walking and looking here than elsewhere.
Very Victorian...
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Quite literally in this case.
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Pretty details everywhere.
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My other 2016 resolution is to sting my lovely brother with a trip to Bettys :lol: (as I did with Mum in Harrogate - but that was her choice)
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Don't worry - I will tell him exactly that. I love him dearly, and I think he will enjoy the experience. And I don't see him often enough, so it will add to the sense of occasion. Also he won't mind spending the money on tea and cakes - my family are just happy that I'm not in the pub (or drunk in a gutter, or in hospital etc etc)
I'd like to think I could take him to this shop for me to choose a gift for myself too. But despite painting myself in a greedy grasping light, I'd rather look at pretty things than own them. And in fact some of these are vulgar, dahling.
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There's an unofficial Yorkshire anthem - On Ilkla Moor Baht 'at - which effectively details going for a little stroll on the moors above Ilkley in inclement weather, without your hat on, and then dying from the cold.
So this had to happen.
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But it doesn't happen in a cheap way.
"T'worms'll come an' eyt thee up", but you'll pay through your hat for it. As it were. Actually, for Ilkley it looked very reasonably priced - there are Micheline starred restaurants here you know.
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Back to Ilkley yesterday.
I've left this thread abandoned like a red-headed stepchild.
I've remembered it now (see why I'm not allowed to have children?)
Ilkley Film Festival. Many films on, some quite arthouse, but I went to see Dad's Army. Well, it was a heck of a lot cheaper than going to a real cinema, and as it turned out, it was the perfect place to see a film set in the '40s because it felt so very British.
King's Hall (theatre)
There was a teeny tiny bar as you walked in, but it wasn't staffed. What was staffed was a much bigger table selling tea and coffee and cakes.
Foyer:
The film was sold out. People who turned up on the off-chance were being turned away disappointed.
The photo I took of the assembled film-goers was about 30 minutes before it started.
Also: invasion!
My local store now has an end of aisle section devoted to Merkin food.
Please send Sainsbury's vouchers so I can sample all of it :lol:
Butterfingers are the best thing in that picture. Followed by Tootsie Rolls.
Edit: Actually, I missed the Reeses, which appear to be empty. Those are good too, if they are the regular or mini sized cup.
Peanut butter is the devil's favourite food.
I don't care how the agents of Satan dress it up.
Peanut butter Snickers...:yum:
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Sundae sent me this photo and I thought that it deserved a wider audience.
It was taken in one of the arcades in the Victoria Quarter of Leeds yesterday.
I don't know Leeds, but it seems that it didn't suffer the wholesale destruction of its older buildings in the sixties and seventies unlike some other cities.
The Victorians didn't distinguish themselves in every field of human endeavour, but their grand architecture as an expression of civic pride is unsurpassed.