Costa del Brid

You can achieve wonders by upping the saturation and artfully cropping out unwanted chip shop chimneys to give an almost Mediterranean look to a Bridlington snicket. 

There's going to be an election in June which apart from boring folk to death will return the present lot to government, destroy what's left of the Labour Party (not much), annoy the Scots and the Irish (no bad thing in itself) and solve no problem whatsoever. But then that's politics for you.

Renewables: the new blot on the landscape

Bridlington's south beach has a wonderful view of a wind farm which I suppose is a step up from the view from the beach near where I grew up, Hartlepool's very own nuclear power station (there were also steel works and petrochemical plants as well but they just seemed to blend in so well). That's progress for you.

Margot took this picture.

A host of godawful Lego bricks

I know, I know I promised never, ever to photograph them but there was no way I could stop Margot clicking away at these truly awful plastic daffs littering the street. And though Wordsworth saw ten thousand at a glance there are, thankfully, just a few hundred of these vile horrors clumped like dried green and yellow snot outside the closed down BHS store appealing to little brats to play chasing games around them. Just dreadful!

Crow

 A crow has taken to sitting on our neighbour's chimney as the evening sky grows dark.


The weekend in black and white is here.

Easter Traditions

The end of the forty days of Lent is in sight and to celebrate some trees on Newland Avenue have been adorned with white knitted rabbits (probably best not to ask what gibbeted rabbits have to do with anything...). Also there are small posters relating how Easter is celebrated in various parts of the world. So in Texas they set the place alight by building Easter fires. Hungarian boys splash girls with perfume so we are told. My favourite, though, was the Lithuanians who whip their relatives with palms to bring wealth. Strangely I could find nothing about the ancient Hull tradition of restoring potatoes to patties (which had been spudless for forty whole days! imagine that...) Ah those Easter patties so warm and filling! Oh and bringing out the chip spice from its sacred Lenten hiding place. Odd there's no mention of this.

Say Bienvenue to The Hull Venue

I took this picture a few weeks ago and would have posted it but for a lack of anything to say. This is the Hull Venue rising out of the rubble of last year's demolition. My problem was an earworm infection so all I could think of was "I'm a venue, how do you do?"... you see my formative years were ruined by Flanders and Swann, (worse, much worse than sex and drugs and rock and roll though obviously not as much fun).

A piddling little stream

If you like mud then Hull could be just the place for you. When the tide is out there's acres of  thick oozing alluvium silting up the old harbour. I believe there are plans to clear out the gloop and improve the flow but then there's always plans for something or other in this place. It's at these times like this that you can see just what a small insignificant little stream the river Hull really is.