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Published: January 4th 2016
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I have been reading Bill Bryson's new book. It is classic Bryson. A return to the Bryson of old - random visits to random places with witty casual observations. I first came across the author with his breakthrough novel - The Lost Continent: Travels in Small Town America. The immortal line to commence stays with me now ......
I come from Des Moines, Iowa. Somebody had to! If you can conjour a first chapter talking about the Firestone factory and the Merle Hay Mall, you must be good. I once had a conversation with a woman in a bar in Naples, Florida based on that chapter. I hasten to add that the other half was sat next to me at the time and was highly amused. Mrs Des Moines, Iowa genuinely believed I had been to the mid-west and was probably a bit disappointed my conversation was based on a book! It was a number of years ago now, but I can tell you that the Merle Hay Mall was not at the top of everybody's shopping choice. Anyway we have digressed, so back to the point - I could start a book -
I come from the North East's premier seaside resort. We all had to leave to get a job. This is not the Mid-West, so we never had a Mall. We used to have Amos Hinton & Son. It was taken over by Presto. Younger readers won't remember that one. They will all be thinking it has been a happy hour Italian for as long as I can remember. It is just possible that this could come in handy in a conversation could ensue with a random stranger in a bar.
The reason why I specifically mentioned Mr Bryson is that it is 20 years ago the he wrote Notes From a Small Island. It is almost 10 years ago since my first Travelblog. The start of another year of uncertainty in the wonderful world of work always casts the mind back to the days of travel and that second decision to go a wandering. I was going to write carefree at that point, but the reality doesn’t always meet that description. Should we do it again, before it is definitely too late? I had come across Jabe’s blogs before, but inexcusably flicked through and just looked at some of the excellent photographs. I rediscovered his blogs
this Christmas, as I noted we had the north east’s premier seaside resort as a common factor. I have bought the book. It is worth reading. If not I have a hard copy to retain, complete with a splendid picture of the pier on the cover. It hasn't always looked so splendid in the last few years, after high tidal surges took their toll and part of the bottom prom for a trip into the North Sea. York, Tadcaster and Cumbria might have the national headlines, but it hasn’t been plain sailing elsewhere all the time - just ask the people whose roof landed on Marine Parade.
Whilst thinking and reminiscing, I took to finally sorting out a lot of photos that had been randomly lying in various folders on the hard drive. It was Christmas and the windows of opportunity in between the weather to add to the collection could be rare. The sun seldom shines long enough to get the hardy souls to sit with their complementary blankets outside the preferred coffee stop on the seafront. The weather might even affect those with bigger appetites forming a long queue outside the fish and chip takeaway at the
White Elephant. The surf shops were open for business, but custom could be scarce.. A combination of events, weather and tides can restrict most to the strenuous activity of gazing out to sea.
I didn't need the historical photos. Despite the torrential rain of Christmas and Boxing Day, blue sky made an occasional appearance. Dog walking is much in vogue. The woods. The beach. The very beach that the unofficial land speed record was broken in 1922. I kid you not! A break in the clouds was an opportunity to take some snaps of the dog on the beach. The visibility was seldom good from the top of Huntcliff. A few Christmas walkers enjoyed the next mile of their Cleveland Way. The furnace is no longer fired up at the steel plant at Redcar and the forlorn figures of the wind farm have now multiplied in the Tees Bay. The view can stretch to Seaton Carew, Hartlepool and beyond. It didn’t very often. The view also didn’t include the new and controversial Redcar Vertical Pier ……….or is it a helter skelter, which wasn’t visible in amongst the more recognisable landmarks. You could see the sea – an obvious fact,
but the subject of many a current complaint apparently if you are stood on Redcar seafront these days apparently. The Zetland stands majestically on the cliff. The trains from London pulling straight into it’s own platform to fill the hotel with the high and mighty are long gone, as is the chance to drink in the majority of the bars of our youth.
The town carries on regardless. A combination of Christmas visitors, those returning home from exile in the south ……… anywhere south of Wetherby qualifies………… and locals rush about their business. After all most shops had been shut for all of one day, which is guaranteed to induce a state of panic in food shopping circles. There was a moderately prosperous feel, taking the town back to it’s heyday. The trademark white brick frontage looks splendid in the sun. A statue of Henry Pease stands on Marine Parade. He was behind the town plan and the white bricks, which was very convenient as a brickworks producing the same was in the family’s business empire. The Convalescent Home opposite is now re-opened and enjoying a new lease of life as a new purveyor of drink, food and bed
Alex
...............as seen from the beach and breakfast with connections to another club in Middlesex. The new Bottom Club of the future?
There was no need to participate in the Boxing Day dip to get wet this year. The Infants School is now long gone, replaced by an almost housing development which is an exercise in squeezing as many homes as possible on a small plot. It will surely add to the parking woes, that have been the subject of much local debate. The parking schemes have been temporarily defeated, but they will surely be back. All of the schools have now been amalgamated on to one complex, leaving the Junior School to be reinvented as a community based Arts Centre. On a previous open day visit a couple of years back, it was gratifying to see that the drain grates in the inner courtyard playground would still entertain a game of marbles and that the original blackboard had been retained in Mona Mason’s classroom. The climbing frames had gone from the assembly hall – it looked so small. It is all now threatened by the mysteries of planning permission – 14 executive houses - and the goalposts on the playing field are no longer.
The chance to recreate those TV moments with the George Best Stylo boots on this open space are now a distant memory, if building plans progress. The domain of an aspiring flying right winger is now a mountain of turf, piled up to become somebody's front garden. Tragic!
I've been doing a bit more of the family tree recently. The Merchant Navy features strongly. It has often said that my travel interest is a throwback from generations past. I think I have had a fair bat round, but I find myself sat in a pub with townsfolk who have made their lives in Canada and Spain. My latest family research takes me to my Grandad's brother. The list of ships shows destinations such as South Georgia and New York on the Titanic's sister ship. Rosario, Argentina features regularly. I have only made it to Buenos Aires, but feel that Rosario must be on the list someday. We probably have a secret branch of the family that are Rosario Central season ticket holders. Anybody that knows me, would know how much that amuses me! I perish the thought that we would favour Newells Old Boys!
In the meantime as
long as I stay rooted in my UK world, there will a very happy small dog!
Meanwhile, back to The Dream Academy. The clue was in the title.
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Rainyb
Lorraine Brecht
awwwwwwwwww :o)