Take one Brazilian rainforest….

Chill it by around forty degrees C.

Remove all those wierd little bright green frogs that have suckers for hands so’s they can cling to the trees  (and how cool must that be?).

Add a liberal smattering of retail parks, industrial units and factory outlets.

Add a westerly, bastardly, totally Dick-Dastardly wind that chills the bits where the sun don’t shine (not even in Hampshire).

Garnish with an overblown sense of local pride.

Et voila…….




Northern industrial town

Sky turns slate-grey

Round Market Harborough way

Then you’re back in the land

Of northern industrial town


No flat caps or pigeons

Just hard-working curmudgeons

And the familiar frown

of northern industrial town


Here they all scrape and forage

This ain’t the New Forest

This ain’t the South Downs

It’s gritty, northern industrial town.


A bit roughly hewn perhaps, but cut me some slack its only around ten minutes old.




On my way oop North

On my way up to Yorkshire.

For those of you unfamiliar, Yorkshire is the place that Yorkshire people call “God’s County”.

It’s quite a billing for places like Rotherham to live up to.

They even have their own vocabulary.

For example, ‘takeaway’ ………….Yorkshire-speak for a painkiller.

Yorkshire……..the undisputed………..county close to Lancashire.

Left something behind

…………..back in Yorkshire.

Need to go see if there is any chance of retrieving it.

Will be interesting to see how this pans-out.

But the Queen of Hearts used to believe in six impossible things before breakfast.

[mind you, she was barking-mad].

See you all in awhile.

Enjoy the Hampshire spring.