Hornsea on the east coast of Yorkshire. Going back there felt as if I was walking through part of my inner self. Six miles east of my home village I was often there in my salad days. It is where I found Joy and Pam - my first proper girlfriends and it's where I felt the magnetic pull of modern music in The Floral Hall. I saw Roxy Music there on their inaugural tour and later the tragic songwriting genius who was Tim Hardin:-
If I listen long enough to you
I'd find a way to believe that it's all true
Knowing, that you lied, straight-faced
While I cried
But still I'd look to find a reason to believe
And when I was the lead singer for a teenage band called Village we also performed in Hornsea.
Years have passed since I was last in Hornsea. It had hardly changed. Still The North Sea trundling up the beach. Still the anglers patiently waiting. Still beach walkers and pebbles and the boulder clay cliffs that suffer erosion each winter - unkind waves gorging on the land. More of that in another post - I bet you cannot wait my friend!
The "Fry Days" fish and chip shop in The Marketplace is now "The Trawlerman" and that is where I enjoyed a wonderful lunch with a china cup and saucer for my tea and a slice of lemon in a stainless squeezer for my battered codfish - expertly prepared and golden brown. To die for.
Clickable pictures from yesterday morning.....