Bank Holiday weekend. The stalls are out to capture the tourists. Clearly we have become the Yorkshire equivalent of Nimbin, perceived as a hippy enclave. No one round here wears this. Well, OK, maybe a couple of people.
Are the babies of all species innately cute? Is this just something nature does? Well, OK, not flies, maybe, but the rule seems to hold for most birds and mammals at least. These goslings were being closely watched by Mum on the canal at Mytholmroyd this afternoon.
Not an eventful day, and it won’t be an eventful weekend. Rain fell for the first time in three weeks, but it was of the light, refreshing kind that the plants needed before everything begun withering away. No sitting outside the pub this evening, however.
Unorthodoxy in the route to and from work for the second day in a row — even more so today as a train strike and an unmissable commitment on campus meant I hired a car and drove in to work in Manchester for only the third time ever, and the first two of those were both in August 2005. But it was a nice day, and the views from the last legs of the drive, over the tops from Littleborough to Cragg Vale, provided some recompense.
There is nothing to complain about regarding the weather, at the moment. It has been glorious, for about three weeks now, certainly since the weekend in Scotland, May 5-7.
There is everything to complain about regarding the state of our local Northern Rail service, a metaphorical view of which could see the recent timetable change as a pint of week-old milk poured into some already dodgy sauce and, consequently, it curdling alarmingly. Was turfed off my original train at Rochdale, hence here you see almost the entire population of said train trying to get on the next one, which will itself already be busy. I waited a little longer, got in 20 minutes late, and the sad thing is, this is now the new normal. Never have I encountered a large company offering such shoddy service before, close to collapse, and we might even have it better on this line than many others.
I’ve been moving around a lot in the last couple of months — Norway twice, Slovenia, Croatia last week — but apart from a couple of trips to London there will be no more of this until into August. So expect plenty of HB, Manchester and, when the local train service allows, the Lakes. It will give me a chance to show the progress of the summer, anyway. The arrival of the first mint crop in the garden is always a welcome one, as that means it’s also home-made mojito season.
Staff ‘awayday’ at work today — so we went a mile or so up the road to the Principal Hotel. Which is rather an impressive building, I think, although apparently it suffers from various leaks. I quite like this shot because of the flash of ultraviolet, though really, that’s just a white balance issue.
A happy 50th birthday to brother-in-law Pete: we celebrated in Manchester and I tried not to dwell on the fact that in 462 days time, I too will reach the half-century…
37 competitions into my football season and this was the penultimate one today, Division 1 the West Lancashire League, where I saw champions Poulton FC lift the trophy. The post-match — and post-season — celebrations are about to start here. It’s been a fun way to spend a season but it’s getting tiring and I’m a little glad we’re moving into summer: but by late June I’ll probably be missing it.
And another picture of Zagreb’s transport infrastructure to mark the end of this week here — the airport being a considerably more modern construction than the railway station. An impressive space, in fact. It’s been a good week and I will probably be back at some point next year.
Being 42 