A Different Way Home

Tuesday. It's been a while since we've had a proper leg-stretching five-mile walk, I think, so we decided to just go to Morecambe and back. Our plan was to just do it, damn it! Stop pretending to be tired and get on with it! Turns out, this is actually a very good tactic when you know you're not actually exhausted and are really just a little bit sluggish.

You've seen tree-lined Morecambe Road a lot, but I always like to take a photo soon after we've set off so I got one of a different tree in someone's garden. Obviously, I don't know what it is, but it looks like a giant one of those shy ones that's touch sensitive. Oh, I've found it – the mimosa pudica. Anyway, this big tree isn't that.


Now, I didn't take photos for quite a while because Matthew and I had a serious discussion about our white privilege, what it is, what it means, what we should do with it, and what the world looks like right now. I don't need to tell you about it because everyone knows what's going on. But this was a good time to find out what Matthew thought, and he got to pick my brain as well. We got so engrossed in our conversation that we'd walked almost a whole mile without realising, so I thought I'd better get in another photo because I know it's very important for you all to know exactly the route we take each day! Here's the end of Morecambe Road. 


And then there was this nice tree, so that was good.


And because we were still deep in very interesting and important conversation, another half mile had gone before we ran out of breath and things to say, and we found ourselves on Broadway and well over halfway to Morecambe. I tell you, serious conversation really eats up the miles.

Someone's been out and cut the grass along here. I wonder if it was someone from the council or the people who live here.


I've never noticed these before, these little reflectors on the corners of the driveways. I don't know how I've never spotted them because there are loads. I didn't even spot them this time – it was Matthew.


This was a nice thing. As we approached, I thought the sign was just going to say that the grass couldn't be cut right now because there was no one to do it, but it didn't. I'll just let you read it.


Still super speedy today, we were up over the bridge and already in Morecambe. Record time, I'd say. We'd noticed almost nothing along the road, but we'd spent our time well all the same. This photo is wonky because I just wanted to see what it would look like if I was a tiny person perched on the railings.


Something else I've never spotted before, despite taking this walk a number of times, was these steps. You see some steps, what do you do? You go down them, of course, so I did. Matthew didn't, and I don't know why because he's usually one for exploring new paths. 


He stayed up there. 


And then we were on the prom. I didn't check to see how long it had taken us, but we were still feeling nice and fresh, plenty of energy, and only a little bit thirsty. We're doing well! Out of 70 lockdown days, I've done 64 walks so far (and Matthew has done a large proportion of them with me), which I think is quite good. I would have liked it to be 100%, but I think it's alright to have rest days. Maybe soon I'll stop counting, but it seems important for some reason.


Oh now then, I'd like to show you my Hornsea Pottery cups. I love them very much. Lots of people don't. Horsea Pottery was sold worldwide, so you might already be familiar with it. A lot of it was – let's be honest – really hideous (Google it!), but these are less hideous. In this particular set, I have lots of little cups with saucers; I have side plates and soup bowls; I have a little milk jug and salt and pepper pots; and I have two casserole dishes. I'm not even a collector; I just saw them on eBay and bought them. And because Matthew and I have got a bit fed up of sharing one very small plastic cup to drink our tea, we decided to bring these instead. Worked a treat, they did! My dad and my uncle Chris both worked at Hornsea Pottery for a while – fun fact.


We had a lovely sit in the sun, drinking tea and eating biscuits, attracting odd looks because it's not really normal to bring your own crockery to the prom. 'Matthew,' says I, 'shall we go a different way home this time?' 'Ooh,' says he, 'that sounds nice, yes, let's do that.' I didn't really want to walk super-fast all the way back down Morecambe Road because we've done that twice now. 'It might rain,' says I. Matthew did a little sitting dance because he's been quite keen for us to get caught out in the rain. 

We packed up our picnic and set off again, this time for Bare. Bare is a sort village, except that it's sprawled into Morecambe and is more the size of a very small town. It has a lot of bungalows in it, and you can get a bit lost in there if you don't know the area. Lots of people learn to drive in Bare because it has nice, wide roads, lots of cul-de-sacs, and big junctions for practising reversing round corners. It's also got Princes Crescent where all the shops are, and which I think is lovely. I'd like to live in Bare, but on the prom side, with a cracking view of the Lakes, but close to the Crescent in case I fancy a bottle of wine or a little treat from the butcher's. It could do with its pavements fixing, but we can't have everything now, can we?


Sweet shop! Ooooooh, don't sweet shop windows look delicious? 


I'd put this pub near the top of my places-to-go-after-lockdown list, but I don't really know anyone who goes here anymore. I used to go with my ex-who-was-not-the-boys'-dad and we had lots of jolly times, but hey-ho.  


You may recall the story I told you of why I've always been scared stiff of level crossings? The one in which my mum once shouted 'LINDA, THE TRAIN'S COMING!' while I was in the middle of the track and the train wasn't coming? This is that track. It smells deliciously of Chinese food because there's a very good Chinese takeaway just round the corner. 


You know I have to take pictures of the things that scare me now, so here you are:


I can't show you any of the bungalows in Bare because Matthew and I got to talking again. This time we were talking about school, missing friends and what it will be like when the boys' lives go back to ... I was going to say normal, but that's a strange thought.

We found ourselves at Sirius Black's park in no time. I don't what it was today, but we were fast, man! We had a little sit down, but not a long one, and we were still feeling fine.


The play area is becoming a wee bit overgrown, which is now normal. I've noticed that some areas are getting meadowy and some are not, so I guess that means that some council workers are still out, but some aren't.


Just stripping away the half-miles today, like a couple of seasoned walkers! We'll be at this bridge again tomorrow (I'm not being clairvoyant, it's just that we've already done tomorrow's walk because I'm sooooo behind on my posts!). I don't think we've passed the same place two days in a row on any of our walks since the first week (aww, remember when we thought we might just have a ten-minute walk next to the river every day for a few weeks? Wow, that seems like a very long time ago!). This was where our legs started to feel the miles, but not in a bad way – definitely a good feel-the-burn sort of way.


The home straight. Well, sort of. What should we call it, since this is adjacent to our street? The nearly-home straight? That'll do. Still very quiet in these parts, isn't it? I've seen photos and videos of towns looking very busy, but that doesn't seem to be happening here.   


Until tomorrow, 


WQ

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