Later this morning, Shirley and I are bound for London to see our boy Ian. It will be a costly excursion - train tickets, tube tickets, food, staying overnight in the Best Western on Seven Sisters Road. One hundred and fifteen pounds for a modest London hotel room! I ask you. They don't even provide a full English breakfast - just a "continental breakfast". But I don't want a "continental breakfast", I want fried eggs and bacon, beans, mushrooms, fried bread and hash browns and a big pot of tea! You can stuff your continental breakfasts - unless of course the continent in question is Antarctica because then we'll be eating roasted penguins and braised seal meat which I adore.
But the title of this post is not "London" but "Rotherham" - Sheffield's smaller and poorer relation and its twin town. Two places that once merged together in a smoky fog of noise and industry - the steel industry to be precise. I was there yesterday - walking in the sunshine and here are just five of the pictures I snapped:-
|"Lost dog" notice on a bus shelter at Herringthorpe|
|Kids fishing on the Rotherham Cut - a canal that shadowed the awkward River Don|
|A Peacock butterfly at Dalton Magna|
|Sign of the times outside the lost "Donfield Tavern"|