I was back in my hometown of Middlesbrough on Thursday for the first time in about three years, this time on business. In that time, the town has stayed the same yet has also changed, sadly not for the better. The number of closed down shops has definitely increased - including places like Walkabout and Burger King which you would think would do quite well - while there is a palpable feel of a lack of hope in the air. I can certainly understand why such towns voted for Brexit, having been long forgotten by the political classes, but I fail to see how that is actually going to improve anything. It seems clear to me, with the number of EU financed projects in the area, that the problems are of domestic concern and now so much political capital is being expended on the Brexit process, I cannot help but think things are going to get worse. It was sad to see, but not really surprising, and at least there are some aspects of the town doing well such as the university. Whether that will be enough though, I am unsure. After my visit, I decided to take the opportunity of returning home to visit my father and sister, who still live in the house where I grew up about ten miles away from Middlesbrough. I had a good four hours with them before having to catch my last train back to Leeds, during which we had a nice catch-up and a pleasant meal at a pub in the small village of Thorpe Thewels. My gammon was a little overcooked in places as it had curled over, but that's me being nitpicky and it was probably a better experience than the first pub we were going to try, a standard cheap and cheerful affair in Thornaby which was exceptionally busy.
The weekend has been largely quiet. On Saturday, we decided to go down to Shuffledog in the evening to join them for their first birthday celebrations. I remember that Thursday night exactly one year ago, 30 July 2015, when David Cameron was our prime minister, no-one had really heard of Jeremy Corbyn and our future in the EU was reasonably secure. It was a simpler time, a better time, and one which saw the nascence of Shuffledog. After the year we have had, it genuinely seems far longer, but it is a great addition to the Leeds bar scene and it would have been something of a travesty not to have spent their birthday with them. Wolfie was on call, so we couldn't spend too long out, and indeed it was only the promise of poutine that tipped us into going. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived, they had been so busy that they stopped serving, but we did convince one of our friends behind the bar to get us a sneaky couple of portions made with Yorkshire cheese curds and gravy, and consequently delicious. We were also convinced into going by the Against The Grain tap takeover they were running. Sometimes, these breweries aren't too strong but this one was spectacular. All six beers we tried were winners, some of which bordering on the divine, and surrounded by spent party poppers and balloons, we had a pleasant couple of hours. On the way back to the bus, we stopped off at the little BrewDog bar for a sneaky 12% Modern Times beer (as they too had a tap takeover going) while on the way home, we chatted to a nice Scottish homeless man on the bus who had a cute dog called Kiki who was after strokes and scritchings.
Sunday was a lie-in day but mid-afternoon we decided it would be a travesty if we wasted it, so we had a quick runout to Knaresborough. Wolfie was still on call so we could go far and I hadn't been to this charming North Yorkshire town since about 1990 when I last visited my great aunt. The main vista is dominated by the viaduct spanning the River Nidd, built in 1851, and the castle, most of which was destroyed by Cromwell's orders after the English Civil War but which has stood here since Norman times around 1100. Indeed the castle was a Royalist stronghold, holding out for two years between the Battle of Marston Moor in 1644 and its fall to Parliamentary forces in 1646. Upon arrival, we heard the dulcet tones of the West Yorkshire Brass Band who were playing tunes near the entrance. The bass sounds of their instruments filled the air as we walked around the remains of the structure, sampling the beautiful view of the Nidd Valley and the viaduct with the golden war memorial set behind us. We also had a pleasant walk through the market town itself, noting that nearly all the pubs here are 'traditional' (i.e. serve weak fizzy lager and real ale), and down towards the zoo. Admittedly, by this time we were chasing Pokestops but I was distressed to discover that it was eating through my battery like Wolfie noms through anything. Alas, halfway through the walk, I had to put my phone away as it was down to 3%, rendering it pretty much useless. Since returning home, I have resolved to buy a new battery pack. Walking around, we saw the pleasant church of St John's while on our way back we walked along the waterside, with its plethora of ice cream shops and cafes. We stopped off at one, The Marigold, where we had a pleasant teacake and pot of tea, observing the various rowers on the Nidd hopelessly crashing into the bank with scary frequency. It would have been nicer had the weather been sunnier, but you can't have everything I guess, and as we walked further along the riverbank, we noted how much we would like to retire here, feeling it would be a perfect mix of country and city living. The highlight of the afternoon, however, was the Chapel of Our Lady of the Crag, a tiny church cut into the rock which juts down into the Nidd Valley. We were lucky as the shrine technically was open between 2-4pm only on Sundays, but the two volunteers who spent most of our time there hoeing vegetables were still busy at 4:30pm and we were allowed in. I donated some cash to pay for the upkeep of this remarkable little shrine, which was cut out of the rock in 1408 by someone known as 'John the Mason'. The room itself is tiny but expertly sculpted, with a small alter upon which some lit candles were burning. There are a number of faces hewn into the walls and a statue too, while the entrance to this tiny chapel is also remarkable, displaying a knight to its right-hand side and a black cross on a white background above the door. To get up to the shrine, you have to meander up a wooden staircase bedecked with herbs and medicinal plants on either side, adding an illuring sense of mysticism to proceedings. It was definitely one of the greatest finds I have made in the UK by just wandering about, and I was delighted heading home.
We fancied a quiet evening in, so once we had returned and Wolfie's father had been to pick up a jack, we settled down to watch Zootropolis together. This was the fifth time I had seen it and I am still noticing things I hadn't yet seen, while my love for the movie is still undiminished. Alas, I don't have a BluRay so I am unable to access the additional special features but we are seriously considering investing in a new device in order to see them, that's how obsessed we are with the film.