Skipton and a Huge Lunch

Yesterday we had a ride out to Skipton as I'm still off work on holiday this week.

The car park was fairly quiet when we got there, but the town was anything but. There always seems to be a large market on in Skipton. Stalls run on both sides of the wide roadway leading up towards the small roundabout in front of the church, with Skipton's famous castle just to it's right.

The photo shows the Library with market stalls standing before it and a row of folk catching their breath before tackling the next set of bargains...

There were so many people wandering about even I, who don't normally race about at top speed, was getting frustrated. When someone decided to stop we all had to stop until they moved on. It was a slow progress along the stalls. I'm not sure why Fran seemed to think I'd rushed her along the stalls therefore...

"It's a good job I didn't want to buy anything!" she said. Grossly unfair - because she had bought some plastic containers at one stall! But it's a husband's lot in life to be scolded and I looked suitably contrite. (Some people mix my contrite expression for my astounded and affronted expression - but surely that's not my fault?)

So we headed away from the crowds down to the canal. Here was a scene of tranquil serenity. Colourful longboats chugging quietly round a corner, a row of cottages ascending a steep hill in the background.

Totally unlike the scene behind me which was of 973 old folks jostling in their starting grid to board another canal boat for a half hour trip up the canal. Half were jostling for the closest seat to the bar. The other half for a clear run to the toilet... Coaches were disgorging yet more blue rinses, linking arms and brandishing walking sticks to knock any unsuspecting youngsters of 50 years or less out of their way. Linking arms to sing Gracie Fields songs that no one else but they could remember. My mother would have been right at home...

We had planned on fish and chips for lunch but that place was packed as well. There were mutters of "There's youngsters taking up places!" coming from behind us in the queue and we ducked out and walked, but did not run, back to the car. It doesn't do to show fear in front of pensioners...

We had seen The Cross Keys on our way in along the A59 road. It was a haven of peace apart from one old couple, torn between cooing over a baby but also wanting to castigate the mother for being unmarried.

The meal was huge and very very good. We both had gammon steak, egg and chips and could probably have shared a single portion.

Fed and watered we went back to the car park and I picked up the camera and walked back to take a few photographs.

As I walked back past the pub there was an indignant yell from the kitchen. I turned in surprise, wondering if it was directed at me, but no... There was an old chap of about 70 who, in the middle of the countryside, had chosen to wheel his bicycle into the back yard of the pub in order to urinate against a tree at the far end of the yard...

Nearly all of these people will have said to their children at some stage; "If I ever get like that - shoot me..."