Progress up north?

Bucks Fizz or Bloody Mary? It was a tricky choice so I thought I would try both. Peachy said that it was possible that there might be some drinking involved yesterday and he was right, thus the Bucks Fizz was designed to set one up for the start of another long descent into self-inflicted alcoholic oblivion. At least it seemed to keep out the cold.

Since I was last up north, I have seen distinct signs of improvements in the lives the ordinary folk who inhabit this little known wasteland. My picture today illustrates the strides forward that have been made in terms of personal hygiene up north. This quaint contraption was in the er… “garden” of the Albion pub, which apparently is one of Jamie Oliver’s favourites, where I assume the regulars come to wash their clothes.

State of the art washing facilities spotted up north

So we headed out to see a building site, where Peachy is building some houses and I must say I was impressed with the progress made in this area as well. Wheelbarrows are now used widely as the wheel was recently discovered up here and has made the movement of building materials far easier than having to roll them on logs which they did until recently. Building techniques have definitely moved forward, with daub and wattle in evidence. Thereafter we headed into Chester to find the two pubs that we had not already visited, but found only one of them The Old Victoria on the “Rows”, apparently a unique Chester landmark where the shopkeepers built their establishments on the first floor and chucked all their rubbish out on to the streets a floor below. Progress indeed.

Thereafter we were taken across the border into Wales to the Alyn (not The Allan as I said yesterday, trust the Welsh to mess up the spelling of an ordinary name) pub restaurant beside a river which was very pleasant, and for a time I was able to forget that I was in the far north until someone opened a window and an icy draft thrust its way through the opening.We were guests of the owner the devastatingly attractive owner and madcap Alex Smeaton, who the previous evening had insisted in sticking the head of a dinner guest inside her blouse, perhaps as a birthday present..

Over lunch came a revelation. Peckforton Castle, in the hinterland of Chester, atop a cold windy ridge was severely damaged by fire a few months ago. It had been converted into a hotel and had been hired by a wedding party. It seems the groom was distressed when the bar was closed, so it is alleged that he set fire to some curtains and the place subsequently caught fire and some £3 million of damage was caused. He has been in custody from the night of the fire, and one supposes has not been able to consummate his marriage. Local wags suggest that it is the only time the spooky old building had been warm.

And so, this morning, before you read this, we will have flown out of the John Lennon airport in Liverpool and will be back in the tender arms of the South of France, and Valbonne in particular, where I shall begin to take stock of the “experience” of England, the north in particular, and then bliss, some sunshine, a laze in the hammock and no social occasions….until tomorrow.

This week will see the formal end to my vacation, so at that stage I will be able to continue to recommence the promotion of Currencies Direct, but until that time.

Chris France