The Tour de France belied its name and came through Hebden Bridge (and past my front door) in 2014 if you recall, but here it gets seen in less direct and energetic form. The week comes to an end in the pub, instead. Well, this is what normally happens.
The sun shows no signs of going away, so rather than wonder when the hosepipe bans and drought orders will come in, let’s just enjoy it — albeit, under cover. Too hot to sit out in direct sunlight for long, even with a beer. Mr John Bailey makes at least his third appearance on the blog.
As it was on Wednesday, so it was tonight. April 2018 in the UK skipped over spring entirely and went from winter to high summer. A Friday evening, the sun was out, the usual suspects were in attendance.
Sledgehammer symbolism it may be but anyone living in most of the UK today observed that we transitioned rather suddenly from winter into full-on spring. And it’s forecast to stay. On such a day, let us use the Railway as a bridge.
A nice day also to mark the 2,000th picture on this blog taken in the UK. If Cambridge Analytica find it significant that I have spent 82.37% of my time over that period in my home country — there you go, I’ve saved them the bother of doing the maths.
What can I say? It’s Tuesday. I spent the day sat on my arse grading student papers. It’s pub night…
Oh dear, pubs two days in a row. Well, it is Christmas. I need a break. An apposite way of recalling that this place, along with the rest of Hebden Bridge town centre, was under six feet of water two years ago today: this year’s was a rather less eventful Boxing Day, fortunately.
Not an eventful day today (and don’t expect one tomorrow, either). It was either this pic of Gareth having a fag or some okra. The okra were cute, but let’s go with Gareth.
Revenge for a photo-bomb… he then changed his mind about being in the picture. Joe’s 94th appearance on the blog, so it is. A quiet, uneventful weekend, but it was always going to be.
Joe’s first appearance on this blog was on its 9th day, September 3rd 2011, in which he was pictured in this room doing much the same thing as here, drinking a fruit juice (always still — Joe doesn’t do fizzy drinks). He — and the room — look somewhat different now, 2,094 days later.
I should count up how many photos out of the 2,094 published so far have been taken in or around the Railway Inn, Hebden Bridge. I imagine it must be pushing three figures by now, making the rate one every two or three weeks on average — and that allowing for the two long hiatuses caused by the floods, with it having been closed for the second half of 2012 and pretty much all of 2016. For ten years from about 2005 this was the only pub in Hebden Bridge I drank in (ever) — more recently I have diversified a little, but in the end this is still ‘my local’. Long life and good health to it and all who drink there.
