I’ve had a lovely weekend at Rich’s house in Halifax. My journey there was horrendous. First off, on the bus I suddenly felt inexplicably sick and could do nothing more than sit rigid, wondering what the protocol is for imminent vomit on public transport. The sick feeling subsided after about a minute so I never found out. I got on a train and I ended up sat next to two boys who were discussing how friend of theirs put a pin badge on his balls, and a guy who kept chewing on his phone. Then I changed trains at Leeds, where there was all kinds of hell on because some trains were delayed. Thankfully mine wasn’t but it made walking through the station more stressful than usual. Then on my second train I got sat opposite a hooded youth who yammered loudly on his phone in almost indecipherable slang while seemingly attempting to play footsie with me.
When did I get so old and irritable? Who knows…
On Saturday we planned to wake up bright and early to head out of the door for 10. As is to be expected, we didn’t wake up until 10, and headed out to Skipton for the day at around 12. I saw lots of old-fashioned telephones in shops for some reason, and of course couldn’t resist taking pictures of them. We went for a boat ride on the canal which was actually quite traumatic for me. A duck splashed dirty canal water in my face, causing me to bang my head against a pole. I saw a dead rabbit floating along in the water, and I saw a pigeon that had fallen into the canal and was trying desperately to get out but couldn’t. Then as the boat ride was ending, a duck got trapped between the wall and the boat and flapped about, which sent more canal water into my face. We finished the day with fish and chips from Bizzie Lizzie’s eaten in the car, which is of course the only correct way to end a cold English day out. In the evening we went out for a meal to Red Pepper. I had recovered from the canal experience enough to wear my gorgeous Max C dress with pearl swans on the collar. The food was gorgeous, I tried sea bass for the first time and loved it. The picture doesn’t do it justice: it was absolutely delicious, as was the spinach and tortellini it was served with.
On Sunday we went for a drink at The Shibden Mill Inn, which was recently voted as Yorkshire’s favourite pub. It was a really nice place but not my kind of pub at all; it was dimly lit, not homely at all and had very few places to sit if you weren’t eating. I’d go again for food, as it all looked gorgeous, but probably not for a casual drink. After that we headed home to make our own Sunday dinner, which was pretty damn tasty. We didn’t do much else after that, as the Northern weather is getting quite, well, Northern.
I decided I didn’t want to leave so I stayed Sunday night as well, leading to a cold miserable morning of goodbyes. My train journey back was great in comparison to the one there. As I pegged it down the stairs at Halifax station as the train doors were closing, a conductor kept one set of doors open for me so I could scurry inside. Once on board, the inspector came to check my tickets and as I faffed around looking for them he just said ‘Ah you’re alright’, flashed me a smile and went on his way. I love nice people! My mum picked me up from the station and we went to, among other places, the wonderful Bettys to get some bread. I got a fruit heart which I enjoyed at home with a cup of tea, The I paper and Glamour magazine.
Now, having done little else today other than come home, eat and write this, I’m going to write the best CV that ever was. (Possibly a slight exaggeration.)
Hope everyone had a great weekend & a good day today!