Travel from then until now.

When young, back in the 1950’s/60’s travel was something of a luxury, our summer holiday/vacation was a train/bus ride to visit relatives in a town about 70 miles away. But this was, for me at least, a whole new world, from my city life I was thrust into the country in a town called Otley. Open fields, small streams (Beck), and boys and girls who spoke English but not how I knew it, to be fair they needed a translator for my twang. But for 2 weeks my cousin and I, Elaine, sadly no longer with us, would roam the fields for hours on end, set off in the morning and return later afternoon/early evening. We climbed trees, splashed through streams and seemed to travel the end of the earth without a care in the world, and we were on just reaching double number ages. Elaine was a tomboy of the first degree, we didn’t have any trees from where I came from only lamposts so climbing a tree was a new adventure

Elaine showed me how, yes she fell out of a couple, rubbed her scratched knee and off we went again. All was well until we got back to her mother’s, my aunt’s, house then the Inquisition. We couldn’t answer questions like where have you been? We had been in fields that seemed go on forever, where’s the mud come from? erm the streams, look at those knees those muddy clothes. Now, this may be controversial but up to this point but Elaine and I used to get bathed together but now at around the age of 8 or 9 that was no longer thought prudent. So after we had both spruced up we would be off again, to those fields,  with warnings of dire retribution if we defied instructions not too. Well, that was a millennium ago but I have been revisiting another place of holiday pleasure in my formative years, Scarborough.

It’s an east coast holiday/vacation destination still popular today but has struggled with the rise of world wide travel, and it shows. I don’t often visit Scarborough now, its like other east coast resorts, Withernsea, Hornsea, Bridlington, Filey, and even Whitby, it’s just somewhere I don’t visit anymore although they all have their stalwarts. But visit I did this past weekend and even though the weather was kind the passing years have not been. I have no reason to visit again, there is even a motorcycle race track of world renown, Olivers Mount, where I last saw the legendary Barry Sheene race, but those days are long gone and so for me has the magic of such places.

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Hull – City Of Culture 2017 (2)

Running on from the previous page there is much more and there is some reference to one of the major industries of Hull, and the many tradigies from that industry of deep sea fishing. Many men were lost but now it is another historical subject and there are those who will never forget the sacrifices of these brave men just for people to have their fish and chips.

But things are taking shape and there are alsorts of things in the pipeline for many shows, and displays throughout the year but here is just the start still only a couple of weeks into the year.

Hull – City Of Culture 2017

Hull – City Of Culture 2017

Hull – City Of Culture 2017

Am I proud? You bet, there are art displays in the Ferens Art Gallery and works by Leonard Da Vinci and others in the University Of Hull buildings and most of this stuff is available to see free. I also have to mention that over £20 million of refurbishments in the city centre has taken place and although as of this moment in time is not complete it’s nearly there. After years of neglect by those with the power to do improvements, maybe, just maybe, Hull maybe cool or whatever the term is these days, and all the laughing remarks of the past may be able to be put behind us. It’s a big maybe, but we have a chance and the more people who visit and actually take a look instead of just taking for granted what has been written in the past maybe in for quite a surprise. Hull City Of Culture? Laugh no more.

All we are saying …… is give peace a chance.

Its Sunday, the weather is glorious, its sunny and in the mid 60’s F, my wife and I are sat on deck chairs in the garden, a glass of vino at our side and all it well with the world …….not. Bang bang bang, drill drill drill, bang bang bang, lawnmowers, and I’m sure someone is drilling for oil as there is the sound of a formula 1 car revving up. We try to ignore and I shout out in vain, BE QUIET!

Then miraculously it is quiet …… for a minute or so and then its bang bang bang, drill drill drill. It’s as if the whole neighbourhood has dusted down their DIY stuff and decided that today’s the day that they will start their never-ending quest to spoil the peace and quiet for everyone else, oh and we haven’t got to the bonfires yet. Yes folks those twigs, dead grass, and any other detritus has to be got rid of, to hell with going to the local tip, about 2 miles away, nope we will have our very own bonfire so we can send smoke signals to the nearest Apache tribe instead of sending a text.

I think some guys are masochists they can’t wait to knock something down only to rebuild it again come hell or high water, the amateur car mechanics are not all that bad, until they decided to start the engine and the whole place sounds like a starting grid at a GP. But hey the sun is shining so ignore the racket, I wish as not only is it on the ground it is also in the air as the local flying club have woken up as well. Like scene of a WW2 film we have light aircraft that I’m sure are replicas of those kamikaze pilots from those films.

We not only have the real aircraft circling overhead we also have the model kind which are really something when they nosedive into your fish pond. They buzz about and you don’t take much notice, well I didn’t until one crash landed in our said fish pond. 2 guys came knocking at our door with a variant of ‘can we have our ball back’. And there, nose down, was a fair-sized model plane that had gone awol, it took 2 of them to haul it out of the pond, apologise profusely and say it won’t happen again, but guess what, it does.

So you can see the coming of summer, whilst I greet with overwhelming enthusiasm I also welcome with trepidation, I love the summer and the sun, especially at the weekends when the usual rigid itinerary of work is suspended for a short while. But unless these DIY Rambo’s and others retreat then its just a matter of grin and bear it ….. oh hang on …… bang bang bang ……. drill drill drill …….. vroom vroom vroom ………… sigh!

Quandry time, questions, questions, questions

This is one of those stupid silly things that crop up in conversation sometimes, especially amongst friends, the subject? Age. And my question was thus, at what age are you too old to be young? Which on the face of it is easy, anyone older than yourself is too old to be young, but what when you get to the age of that person?

Lets take an example, many years ago, I was in my 20’s then, and there was a nightclub, Bailey’s, but seeing as it was in the UK it probably means noting to anyone, but at the time it was a nightclub chain and a very good one at that. They put on cabaret, class acts of the day in the UK and also from the USA, Jimmy Ruffin was one artist I saw, and also a disco, which was also an up and coming thing.

On one particular evening me and my mates were all having a beer, looking at the girls that type of thing, but the other thing was a group of people who looked about in their 30’s. They were dressed in suits, nice dresses (we are talking about the guys in suits and the girls in dresses here LOL) and quite smart but, and how can I put this, they looked dated, yes old. Bear in mind we were only about 10 years younger but it might as well have been about 100 years difference.

Now fast forward 10 years and guess what? You get the drift here, you have replaced those people you use to giggle at because they looked so out of date. But hey to yourself you are still THE MAN, even though your hair is, shall we say, receding, you may have, shall we say, a less than svelte figure, in fact a beer bulge. And so you go on the dance floor and do your stuff, ever seen the younger ones snigger at you? Time to take a rain check here.

The music is not the music you grew up on and you don’t actually know who is singing what these days but hey you dance away anyway. Only the dances have changed and all the stuff you liked is now, shall we say, past history. Then it dawns on you, you are past the sell by date, your time has past, you are ancient history. But my question is …… when does this happen? When do you feel that you are of another era? You may still sing along to the music of the day, but your heart isn’t really in it, you like your stuff.

There is a gender thing here as well, as usual, women have to work harder to keep up with trends and the effects of aging, but most deal with it elegantly if not with alacrity ( that word will get you reaching for your dictionaries 🙂 LOL ) whilst men age ……. graciously, well most (ever seen a guy who pulls his hair over from his armpits 🙂 …….. )

So back to the point of all this drivel, at what age is too old to be young? I haven’t a clue, I have lost count of the times I’ve been told to ‘grow up’, but I never have. At times I am in my teens in my head, (especially when I have You Tube on) and others I feel my age and I don’t know why. So help me out here, am I past my sell by date? Doomed? ah what the hell, I’m listening to Cindy Lauper at the moment and feel like I’m 30 …… oh hell I look old 🙂