Would that all trains were like this on a Friday afternoon. But if they were I guess some wonk would close down the whole service for being ‘uneconomic’. For now one can still get a shuttle service from Lancaster to Morecambe, however. And be pretty much guaranteed somewhere to sit.
I believe that the person who is the subject of the most statues in the world is Buddha, but I would be fairly sure that Queen Victoria is the most-depicted woman. She never seems to look particularly happy, though: whether she really said ‘We are not amused’ or not. That most public statues have invariably become covered in guano (that’s birdshit, of course) doesn’t help either. This one stands in Dalton Square, Lancaster: another stage in a slow journey north, for Christmas.
I do generally limit the number of football shots published on here but after having had a couple of extra days to think about it, I do think this is the most pleasing shot I captured today. The view from the terrace at the Giant Axe (the name of Lancaster City’s stadium) encompasses both Lancaster Castle and the railway station — though I never captured the money shot, including both the ball and a train.
This shot was better than the match itself, which finished 0-0. In fact, the shot of Clapham Common two weekends ago was of a match that also finished 0-0. I doubt this coincidence is a meaningful one however.
2024’s penultimate picture might be better focused, but what the hell, I think it gives it something of an enigmatic feel. And perhaps I wanted to take a picture of the scaffolding. What’s she doing? Who knows, but let’s hope that if it involved getting a train somewhere, she has patience.
Oh dear, I’m in a pub again, and at lunchtime too. However, the Tite & Locke bar is newly opened, on platform 3 of Lancaster station, a place I pass through reasonably often, and usually with Clare, who is not averse herself to the occasional beer. I think I will be coming back here: it certainly made a good first impression (unpaid advertisement).
I should have returned home after yesterday’s walk, and that I didn’t was evidence of quite how dreadful the buses were in the Lake District yesterday; also that I am lucky I could stay with the in-laws in Morecambe, otherwise I might have been sleeping in Lancaster station overnight. Like everywhere else at the moment, it is a building work-in-progress. I like the blues on this shot.
Our neice Poppy had her 18th birthday party today, in the building ahead; we got there late, thanks to ths usual rubbish on the train line. Clare brings a dash of red to the scene, meanwhile her Dad, i.e. my father-in-law Dave, makes only his second-ever appearance on the blog in 4,250 days.
The first of the drives (mentioned yesterday) is completed. This was a somewhat gloomy day with occasional bursts of light, as the shot suggests. The tower sits on the edge of the moor, above Lancaster. One of those constructions built purely for the hell of it: it contains nothing, provides no service except the rooftop platform from which one can see the good view. So it counts as a folly, I suppose: I’m not even sure whose ‘jubilee’ it celebrates.
As reliable an early signifier of spring as anything else — and the crocuses are early this year. Nor has their February arrival diminished them in number, certainly not on this lawn in front of Lancaster Castle, anyway.
This scooter is currently lying a dozen yards offshore in the muddy wastes of the banks of the River Lune. I fear it is lost, soon to become an archaeological relic, a fossil perhaps [yes, I’m aware this cannot happen with inorganic material]. You do wonder about the story behind these things, but as with the car crash in Wales two weeks ago, perhaps it is better not to enquire too deeply.
