When I was growing up and it was summertime New Brighton was the day out you could realistically ask for. Right there across the water and reachable in those days by ferry, it couldn’t involve the preparations or paraphernalia that could often be used to torpedo the very idea of a day out in even Southport, never mind the holy grail of Blackpool. So I loved New Brighton then and love it now, possibly more so. The ferry’s long gone and the place has had its downs as well as ups. But it’s still right there across the water, ready and waiting for my day out with the Open Eye Gallery today.
Now obviously I’m well capable of getting myself to New Brighton all on my own. I’m big now and don’t have to wait and plead for anyone to take me there anymore. But after a busy day in George Henry Lee yesterday I was glad to wake up this morning and remember that someone else was taking care of arrangements today, and that all I had to do was turn up late in the morning at the Open Eye and they’d look after me from then on. Continue reading “New Brighton Revisited: Indy Biennial 18”
Sarah returns to Anglesey for some serious sea kayaking, including dealing with some very big swells and only mildly interested seals!
I’m back in Anglesey – at last – for a few days, for my next immersion in sea kayaking. First up, two days on an improvers course, with Steve Miles, running this for my regular coach James Stevenson. We begin our first day up at Bull Bay.
With our boats ready to go – Steve, me, Neil and Rhys.
I’ve done this trip a few times now, so it’s along this fairly familiar north coast… stopping along the way to go into this cave. (I came here on my very first day in a sea kayak last May). Continue reading “Seals and swell”
So then, what’s East of Hull? ‘Rotterdam?’ I hear you ask. Well yes, but before you get there is the strange, flat, watery, eroding and beautiful place where Sarah’s just stayed.
“Sarah Horton here, reporting from a recent trip to ‘the end of the world’, as I described the Spurn peninsula to Ronnie! ‘Spurn,’ you say, ‘where’s that then?’ Well it’s what’s to the east of Hull, and it’s one of the strangest and loveliest places I’ve ever visited. Read on for more.
I’m the sort of person who likes time alone, always have been. My work as a funeral celebrant is demanding and challenging, so I’ll often take time away to recharge. Right now, I’m not working, as I’ve been involved in a road traffic accident with a big truck, leaving me without a car, shaken, vulnerable, and in need of some time to recover. Feeling a bit restless after four weeks of rest, physio and emotional support, I’m ready to step back into the world – very gently – and see what that feels like. Continue reading “East of Hull – Keeping Spurn Wild”
I’ve never known quite what to make of Southport. A good place for days out growing up in the 1960s. Much closer to home than getting up early to catch the X61 Ribble bus to Blackpool for a start. But since those days I’ve found myself going there less and less.
Recent walks have taken us to Churchtown, the lovely Botanic Gardens and the windswept beauty of the Ribble Estuary. But as for the town itself, last time we’d been there, sometime last year, we’d walked along Lord Street counting the empty shop units and felt simply sorry for it.
Well yesterday we found something there that’s changed these feelings of vague pity to something close to awe. Something that is unquestionably the best thing I’ve seen happen to Southport in my lifetime.