Joy Division tour jacket with detachable sleeves
As some of you might have expected, given the nature of the previous post, I was planning on rambling at some length from our accommodations deep in the back streets of Whitby.
A while ago, either here or on the Usenet, I also wrote 'No plan survives contact with the Elsinore'. So that was pretty much what happened.
You can go elsewhere for random pictures of random bands and random goths.
A couple of years ago, I wandered the place with a Lomo (well, sort-of) Action Sampler and this was one of the results. This time we find that only the tanks remain, and some fellow who'd clearly come from Middlesborough was wondering if he should shop me to the plod. I understand that once the site has been purified (it quite obviously ponged of fuel and expired motor oil) they'll be boshing up some chi-chi (for NE Yorkshire values of same, obv.) holiday apartments. Those of you who want your Renaults fixed will have to beetle off to some trading estate on the edge of town to slurp coffee from a machine while some bluff chap selects the right mallet.
The gentrification of the place steamrollers onward, which in the tiresome way that only the middle-class can manage, is both good and bad.
When we first started turning up for this goth business, a goodly number of the fine Victorian houses around the Esplanade were derelict, Trenchers was the sharpest eatery in town and bandwidth provision involved blagging a go on the Compuserv(e) account belonging to the chaps at the Shepherd's Purse. So I guess it's a good thing that there are houses with Agas and you can potter down to the Co-op to buy a copy of the Observer on a Sunday.
I wonder what will happen if/when Scarborough Council get what I imagine is what they want?
While there, I think I managed to startle a couple of people regarding the Circuit of the Cotswolds. It's starting to sink in that there's not long to go and I really need to work on my climbing. Luckily (for appropriate values thereof) Bristol's not short of quiet backstreets that go right up the side of the various hills the place is spread across. More work required, but the views are pretty good.
At the start of the year, I more or less laid waste to the 'garden' for the first time since we moved in. It's recovering nicely.
Oh. Yes. Handy tags.
A while ago, either here or on the Usenet, I also wrote 'No plan survives contact with the Elsinore'. So that was pretty much what happened.
You can go elsewhere for random pictures of random bands and random goths.
A couple of years ago, I wandered the place with a Lomo (well, sort-of) Action Sampler and this was one of the results. This time we find that only the tanks remain, and some fellow who'd clearly come from Middlesborough was wondering if he should shop me to the plod. I understand that once the site has been purified (it quite obviously ponged of fuel and expired motor oil) they'll be boshing up some chi-chi (for NE Yorkshire values of same, obv.) holiday apartments. Those of you who want your Renaults fixed will have to beetle off to some trading estate on the edge of town to slurp coffee from a machine while some bluff chap selects the right mallet.
The gentrification of the place steamrollers onward, which in the tiresome way that only the middle-class can manage, is both good and bad.
When we first started turning up for this goth business, a goodly number of the fine Victorian houses around the Esplanade were derelict, Trenchers was the sharpest eatery in town and bandwidth provision involved blagging a go on the Compuserv(e) account belonging to the chaps at the Shepherd's Purse. So I guess it's a good thing that there are houses with Agas and you can potter down to the Co-op to buy a copy of the Observer on a Sunday.
I wonder what will happen if/when Scarborough Council get what I imagine is what they want?
While there, I think I managed to startle a couple of people regarding the Circuit of the Cotswolds. It's starting to sink in that there's not long to go and I really need to work on my climbing. Luckily (for appropriate values thereof) Bristol's not short of quiet backstreets that go right up the side of the various hills the place is spread across. More work required, but the views are pretty good.
At the start of the year, I more or less laid waste to the 'garden' for the first time since we moved in. It's recovering nicely.
Oh. Yes. Handy tags.