The first time I came here, in September 2010, I developed an opinion that this might be the world’s most spectacular city – see this pic on my Flickr site for further evidence – and I have seen nothing this time to change my mind. If only things were half the price that they were, because this country sure makes you pay to enjoy its beauty.
Air travel is not a mode of transport designed to deliver many pleasures, but there is a beauty to being above the clouds and seeing them tinged by the setting sun.
The story behind this place is such a long and difficult one to tell – North & Hodson’s book Build a Bonfire will give you the first part, doubtless someone will write the second instalment one day. Suffice it to say that as a Brighton fan making my inaugural visit here this afternoon, when I first entered it, I cried. Just a little bit.
Today’s result: Brighton & Hove Albion 2, Barnsley 0. We won’t mention the failure of Southern rail to get me and a few thousand other fans back to Brighton because of a ‘staff shortage’. I mean, it’s not like they knew we were coming.
I grew up in the South of England but left 20 years ago and don’t tend to come back if I can help it. This place, however, is the one exception. Sometimes I wish they would swap it with Blackpool – the one carbuncle on the face of the North – then all the really good places would be up there and all the naff places down South, But it’s probably better this way round. However, a warning – there are plans to build some huge ‘observation tower’ in front of the ruined West Pier. Remember, if there is anything cool and beautiful, someone, somewhere, is planning to fuck it up.
Bonfire Night (remember, remember, the 5th November) is England’s one genuine nationally-observed folk festival, and even then we are in danger of letting it be usurped by Halloween, which is (in its commercial form) an alien import. But let’s face it, it’s just fun to burn big piles of flammable things. There’ll be a guard on this to make sure it doesn’t get lit tonight, I bet.
I know if I keep repeating it too long this ‘golden light, golden colours’ theme might start to get a little wearing. But surely we can’t sustain this for much longer, so let’s make the most of it while it lasts.
What irritates me most about the public transport in this country is not the unpunctuality (which tends to be concentrated on certain lines at certain times of the day, and after a while you just learn to avoid them – if you can, of course). No, the thing that gets me the most is the stupid ‘no growth in numbers’ contracts which the train operating companies have signed.As a result, public transport is an utterly backwards industry in which there is actually no business incentive to increase custom. (Undergraduate education is becoming another one.)
There is one, and only one, reason why such a state of affairs is tolerated: it’s because every journey by public transport represents a little redistribution of tax income. The government like collecting tax, so encourage us to use cars, which are enormous sources of tax revenue. They don’t like paying tax back out. so don’t want us to use public transport, which is ‘subsidised’ (I call it ‘invested in’). As a result Britain has the highest public transport costs of almost any country in the world.
But despite everything, it’s still a damn sight better than using a car.
Hebden Bridge in autumn plumage. Definitely a good time of year to be here.
The Whitworth Hall (named after engineer Sir Joseph Whitworth) is the ceremonial hall for the University of Manchester. People say you end up working somewhere appropriate for your name. Well, not only is my family name Whitworth, but my mother’s maiden name is Hall, so I guess that does it for me.
Nice to come downstairs and find two beautiful women in the lounge dressed in their bedwear. After that the rest of the day was taken care of.
Being 42 