We are living in the last of the last days; term starts on Monday. The evenings are drawing in, the air's sharp of a night, and in Saudi Arabia and Libya bags are being packed and families bidden farewell as a whole new batch of students prepares to descend on us. There are but a few sunny, gold and russet days left to us, and so today I decided to take my camera with me as I crossed the town to Waitrose, and show you the pick of my pics.
I live in Stamford, Lincolnshire, and I work in Leicester. The train to work costs me two hundred and thirty quid a month, and so if I were to move to Leicester I could afford a bigger and better flat than the one I have here. However, Stamford is very pretty and Leicester is very ugly. One of my young colleagues told me that in her first year of residence in Leicester she was mugged once and burgled twice. I don’t say this couldn’t happen here, but you are more likely to be pranged by a yellow-cardied old lady in a mobility buggy than happily-slapped in an alleyway. Fifteen churches attest to our piety, a range of charity shops to our philanthropy, and little artisan cheese and bread shops to our gourmet tendencies, and so I am reluctant to give this up and move to Leicester, swapping my Jaeger twin-set for a sari or a shell suit.
St Mary's Hill, and her church at the top. I live just round the right hand corner. The yellow sign in the bottom left hand corner rubs in the fact that the holiday is nearly over.
Alms houses and 'iconic' British phone box, or booth, if you are from the US. I have never used it and so I cannot tell you if it has the 'iconic' British phone box smell of piss.
Below, sinister cobbled streets and alley-ways. To keep a low profile, dress in Pringle knitwear, a gilet and green wellies. On no account draw attention to yourself, or you may be forced at ballpoint to donate to the Royal National Lifeboat Institute.
The River Welland.
Well, do I swap this for Leicester, and save the train fare???