The Venice of the North...

Goole comes to a standstill a few times each day, whenever a train arrives. Warning lights come on, the barriers come down and all the traffic lights in the vicinity turn red. It’s a stereotypical Goole experience to be sitting in stationary traffic, going nowhere, while other people, gazing from their carriage windows, are heading for more dynamic hotspots, like Doncaster and Hull.

I don’t mind the interruptions. I’m not in much of a hurry these days, and my trips to Goole are seldom governed by appointments or deadlines. Apart from stocking up with supplies at Morrisons, or mooching around the charity shops, the purpose for my visit to “the Venice of the North” is usually a writing session at Goole library. I have a seat which offers a panoramic view of the toings and froings beyond the picture windows. Six roads meet here, at a roundabout topped with a clock-tower; this was the town centre when Goole and the docks were declared open in 1826. I’m not sure the town even has a centre any more…