Driffield Amusements

Driffield once had a proper post office in a fine old building, now it's gone ... actually been gone for ten years or so but I only photographed it the other day, I like my urban decay to mature a bit...

& next door, the amusement arcade, is coming along just fine.

Please wait ... six months.

We went to Bridlington the other day. It was closed. Hibernating until well into next year, waiting for those glorious post-Brexit days, Armageddon, who knows? Anyway it was shut...

The Yorkshire Belle was where she always is, still going strong after taking folk on trips round the bay and sometimes further for must be over seventy years now. I know she had a refit in Hull recently and clearly needs to rest up.

The Gansey Girl statue and the ferris wheel were just made to go together so  ...

Snooker Loopy

If you like seeing grown men putting their brightly coloured balls on a table and hitting them into pockets with the end of stick then snooker is your game of choice. If, like me, you think that when you've seen one game of snooker you've seen them all then maybe you should give this exhibition of geriatric ball potters a miss.

Snooker enjoyed a revival from its sleazy, smoke filled room, sign-of-a-misspent-youth decline back in the late 60s/70s simply because the one of the two TV companies available back then (the BBC) had introduced colour TV broadcasting and needed a program with coloured things in it. It was called "Pot Black" as I recall and led to one commentator making the memorable sentence " For those of you who are watching in black and white, the pink is next to the green". They certainly don't do TV like they used to.

Found in Sheffield

Eventually we got on our tram and headed out towards Halfway. I never did find out out where Halfway was or indeed where it is halfway to as we got off well before then and went about our errand which as I've mentioned was just a tad silly. We were here to pick up and transport back this fellow ...

He's over six feet tall, has a limited vocabulary and even more limited movement. Margot has had a crush on him ever since she saw him lurking in Asda nearly ten years ago. Fortunately he squats down to under four foot and fitted into bin bags and, with a woolly hat for head protection, few people dared say anything to us as we carried him onto the tram back to the station. If you ever find yourself in need of a way of disposing a torso wrap it in bin bags put on a silly hat over the top and carry it through town, no-one will stop you ... well at least not in Sheffield.

We'd just missed a train so had to wait nearly an hour which gave me the opportunity for another view of Sheaf Square all lit up. Nice one Sheffield.

As for our friend he lurks in the front room serving no purpose at all other than to advertise Margot's excellent book. Go out and buy it now or I'll set the big fella on you.

Lost in Sheffield

So we arrived in Sheffield and we needed to find the trams, we had directions to "cross over the track and catch a 'Blue Line' tram to Halfway" but directions are only as good as the folk that follow them so we boldly headed to the way out as per the station signs thinking we'd find the trams there. Well, we didn't; we did find this fine city square, Sheaf Square named after the now buried river Sheaf from whence derives the name Sheffield.  The main feature is this impressive water fall over stainless steel (they couldn't use any other metal in this steel town could they?) called The Cutting Edge.

Another thing that impressed us was that the place has hills, I mean Hull hasn't even got a bumpy road to call a hill but this place rises up around you on all sides, very nice, well different, wouldn't like to ride a bike around here but nice nonetheless... Anyway, compounding our error we thought we'd cross this road and head to the bus station, surely the trams would be there ...

Even as we walked I had a feeling this wasn't right ...

No trams here just buses in a bus station who would have thought of that ... so turn about and head back to the station and notice the fine carvings over the entrance ...

Back in the station I noticed a very small sign with the word "trams" next to it and an arrow ... seems you get to the trams by going out what appears to be the back door of the station...

This tale has gone on too long so I'll finish it tomorrow when things take a slightly silly turn.

Things ancient and modern

Here you might be surprised the ancient or rather slightly older thing is Doncaster's station not the gothic church that would like to dominate the skyline of this ancient town. The station was built in 1848, some five years later the 12th century church of St George burnt down completely and had to be rebuilt by, well who else could do the job, none other than our old friend Sir George Gilbert Scott. I'm told that the bill for rebuilding came to £43,126 4shillings and 5 pence and even Queen Victoria raided her piggy bank and gave £100. It's Grade1 listed and has interesting things in it you would love if you could see 'em (try here).

A new shopping centre/bus station/railway interchange thing has sprung up since I was last in these parts. I think it's called Frenchgate, something like that, anyway new to me.

Doncaster station is still as busy as I remember it. This is where the suits get off, taking their loud conversations with them, and head for the mainline London train ...

Now Doncaster or Donny as the train conductors and locals call it is only here because the Romans needed a place to cross the river Don and move on up North to York and civilisation. They fortified the place and, because they knew no better, they named it Danum, the natives called it Don - ceaster, the roman fort on the river Don, sensible eh?. Not wishing to flow against the tide of history this is us doing just that crossing the Don and moving on ... next stop Sheffield which is also on the river Don but named after a different river altogether.

¿Qué gigantes?

¡Válame Dios! —dijo Sancho—. ¿No le dije yo a vuestra merced que mirase bien lo que hacía, que no eran sino molinos de viento, y no lo podía ignorar sino quien llevase otros tales en la cabeza?

                                                                                            Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

I've been trying to find out exactly what climate is and I've failed completely. You'd think with all the stuff and nonsense spouted out it would be easy to say climate is such and such; but no, no-one can come up with an agreed definition. So I haven't a clue what is meant by the term "climate" (and I'm guessing you don't have much idea when it comes down to it). I read that "climate is what you expect; weather is what you get" but that isn't really helpful in tying down a definition, is it? Best I can figure on the matter is that climate is past weather all averaged out (and maybe fiddled with by clever folk with fancy machines) but it's past weather nonetheless, that is to say, climate is history and it's also an artefact, something that only exists because we say it does. (To some poor folk climate has developed almost god-like properties, and it's an angry god too that needs propitiatory sacrifices such as cutting off the electricity to appease it... these people are completely mad it goes without saying.) Now just as history can't be changed, so climate can't be changed; only the weather can change. Now if you've ever read the small print on investment opportunities you'll be aware that past performance is no indicator of future returns. So worrying about climate change and doing something about it is just tilting at windmills ...

These desaforados gigantes are near Thorne between Goole and Doncaster on land, Hatfield Chase, reclaimed from marshes nearly four centuries ago by our friendly Dutchman Cornelius Vermuyden when the climate was cooler than it was yesterday so they say.