So after a week of chocolate box villages with thatched roof's, village greens that double as cricket pitches and everything that embodies England, particularly in the simple minds of Americans, I returned to the north. Initially I felt like a Hobbit in Mordor! It was probably because I had had a week in the scorching sun too with temperatures of 23 degrees and then returned to lots of rain and thick cloud and temperatures more like 15. For a day or two things did feel glum.
But I soon acclimatised. Factories, cobbled streets, clean washing hung to dry. Men in flat caps, kids walking a whippet, the local shop owner smoking a fag. Someone pronouncing 'Wasp' like 'Rasp', a man waiting for the Bookies to open and endless terraced houses, all these things I saw during my first day of returning to the north and it made me smile.
I think I'm an Orc disguised as a Hobbit!
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| "Thelwall Viaduct" |
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| "Rawtenstall" |
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| "Man at the Bookies" |
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