Go North (life is peaceful there)

I’ve just returned from a trip to Derbyshire. Having lived in the North (Yorkshire) for a sizeable amount of time, it’s curious how strange it all felt after just a few years of living in London. Approaching Chesterfield, I was having a debate with my girlfriend about how I believed that you can definitely see a divide between the North and the South. She disagreed. On the ‘eement’ of her disagreement, we passed an NHS billboard that was simply and old man’s stern face staring out of the poster with the slogan ‘Hey you – yeah you – Check your poo.’ Fecal serendipity.

Getting me to go for a walk in the countryside is about as easy as getting a cat into a hot bath, but when I reluctantly relented it was actually very enjoyable (as these things always are). I have the ability to talk with cows, which is fairly useful, although the conversations are rarely enlightening. ‘Why are you lying down?’ ‘Because it’s about to rain!’ ‘What are you chewing?’ ‘Cud.’

Glossop market is a thing to behold. I recommend a trip in there if you’re ever in the area. If it’s any reflection of the needs of the people of Glossop, then those bastards like dressing up and then slapping each other with raw fish. It’s basically a massive fancy dress shop and a fishmongers. Still, pantomime horses for courses.