Richard Carter’s fascinating exploration of his local grouse-moor in West Yorkshire digs deep into natural history, human history, prehistory, and the history of science. His writing is grounded, insightful, and frequently hilarious, and he shows how falling in love with your own local patch can be a gateway to the whole world.
—Neil Ansell, author and journalist
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I didn't realise that you'd met the wife, & that shelter is where we first......
Ok, I admit it, this place is dull, dull, dull. But at least we have a galloping horses ride on the pier approach every summer. How much more could you possibly want?
Actually, I quite like what I've seen of Bournemouth. I won a game of Laser Quest there about 14 years ago. I think it was the last time I ever won anything athletic. They don't call me 'Dead-Eye Dick' for nothing. If fact, they don't call me 'Dead-Eye Dick' at all.
In keeping with giving the people what they want, they closed that down (& the bowling alley) in march this year. They even shut down the swimming pool & the IMAX (but that's another story). So we now amuse ourselves by watching the traffic lights change & playing spot the young person. We have a saying down here:- 'Dover for the continent, Bournemouth for the incontinent'
Don't you have an awful lot of squirrels down there? And bowling greens.
Yes, of course. The oldies love both. But why do the wrinklies always have to dress like school dinner ladies to play bowls? It's one of life's little mysteries, I suppose.
I once went to Grimsby, expecting it to be a nice little fishing village.....wrong!
on revisiting this item, I realised that the shelter (pictured) is currently the nocturnal residence of 4 homeless people, who sleep wrapped in polythene & transport their belongings in Sainsbury's trolleys.