Yorkshire...

Enjoyed a great day’s cricket yesterday, with John, an old chum from York. The sun shone all day, Yorkshire prospered (against Notts) and, still sniffling with a cold, I self-medicated with crap lager.

The ground, off Marine Road, is one of my favourites. You walk in through old-fashioned turnstiles. The staff bid you welcome and, unlike at Headingley, don’t sullenly search your bag for anything as inappropriate as a camera with a long lens or a favourite bottle of wine. The first sight of the ground always makes me gasp; it’s hard to believe that a full-sized cricket ground has been shoehorned into a residential area, with the residents of many terraced houses able to watch play for free. I got to the ground far too early, but at least I was able to grab a couple of seats in a stand where we’d have a good view and the sun at our backs. 

On the previous day Yorkshire had quickly subsided to 51 for 6. They could have been bowled out for less than 100, which would surely have meant the game was lost. But they rallied… and the lower order batsman pushed the score to an acceptable 282. Game on. We watched the Nottingham batsmen recreate the traumas of the previous morning. But their tail-enders offered little resistence, and Notts were bowled out for just 98. For the rest of the day Yorkshire piled on the runs. By the time we staggered off to get something to eat, they were 200-4, 388 runs ahead. With two more days to play (though rain is due today), Yorkshire ought to win and keep their title challenge alive.

During the lunch and tea intervals, the crowd wanders onto the playing area. Kids play impromptu games with bat and ball; old guys wander out to “look at the wicket” and pretend to be able to “read” it. Kids can play cricket anywhere they want, though there’s obviously something special about being on ‘hallowed turf’…

Some kids aren’t so young…

Cricket...

Got a bit of a cold. It seems strange to be sneezing and shivering when the weather is so warm and balmy… but I’ll struggle through. Looking forward to a day’s cricket tomorrow - Yorks v Notts - at Scarborough…

Ralph Cross... used as the emblem of the North York Moors National Park...

Just good enough...

In my favourite pubs there’s usually a hole in the toilet door where some disgrunted punter has head-butted it. There may or may not be a hook on the back of the door to hang a jacket on; there may or may not be toilet paper; there may or may not be soap by the wash basin; there may or may not be hot water; there may or may not be paper towels to dry my hands on; if there’s a hand dryer it may stubbornly refuse to work when I rub my hands together. There’s a name for a pub with hooks, toilet paper, soap, hot water, paper towels, dependable hand dryers and all-round cleanliness: they’re called Wetherspoons.

Twenty years ago people weren’t crying out for big, barn-like pubs which all look the same, no matter where you go. Yet the pubs seem to thrive when others, many others, are closing down (and the two facts are not unrelated, I assume). I was in some town recenty where there were two cavernous pubs side-by-side on the main street. One was Wetherspoons; the pub next door was a Wetherspoons look-alike: long bar, cheap beer, food on demand whenever you wanted it. But while the Wetherspoons was full, the counterfeit Wetherspoons was almost empty. The public had voted with their feet.

The Wetherspoons ‘offer’ obviously appeals to a lot of different people; the pubs try to be ‘all things to all people’ and damn nearly succeed. At 8am a steady trickle of people wander in for breakfast, including a lot of guys - single or working away - who want to start the day with a nourishing meal and a cup of tea or coffee. But if they want to wash down their ‘traditional breakfast’ with a pint of strong lager and a whisky chaser - and, grotesquely, a few of them do - there’s no-one to say “Hang on… do you think that’s wise?” Wetherspoons are morally neutral. If they’ve got it you can have it. You can order anything on the menu from 8am to 11pm, and you’ll never be told that what you ordered has run out. If you want peas instead of beans, or beans instead of peas, that’s fine too.

Breakfast is just the start. Women come in for morning coffee; families come in to eat; business people come in for lunch, knowing that the food won’t take long to arrive. Older couples come in for an early evening meal, before the place gets really busy. The night will probably end without too much trouble; I’ve never seen drunk men brawling outside a Wetherspoons.

I have to admire the business concept, even though the pubs themselves are hard to love. I pop in for cheap food, clean toilets and dependable wifi, and because I don’t feel out of place sitting on my own. The people I meet seldom have a bad word to say about Wetherspoons, though their appreciation is generally lukewarm. The company thrives because everything they do is ‘just good enough’, and, when the customers pay for their meals, there are no ‘hidden extras’. Palpably, that’s what a lot of people want…

The foreshore, Whitby...

Wood Nook...

You can walk from the Wood Nook campsite... if you can follow the farmer's instructions...

Campsite...

Had a good session last night, at the Fox & Goose in Hebden Bridge. Today is wet and gloomy, so I've decided to spend the day at my favourite campsite in the Yorkshire Dales, near Threshfield. The 'leisure' batteries could do with a boost, via the electric hook-up, so they'll hold their charge for longer; it's a good opportunity to get all my gadgets charged up too. I've got pix to edit, upload and keyword, so appreciate having dependable wifi...

Old waymarking stone on the North York Moors...

Grosmont...

The last time I was at Grosmont station, I had gout. More mobile yesterday, and got a few pix...

Whitby again...

Busy taking pix along the coast, while the weather’s amenable, including another day in Whitby. It was good to do a tour of the town before the crowds arrived. In Thirsk this evening, parked up in the square; with free wifi I cued up a hundred pix and hope they’ve all been uploaded by the time I get back from the pub…

Lazy angler, Whitby...