I went to my home town of Beverley over the weekend, to visit the fam. Happily, it was bonfire night, so we could go to see the bonfire and fireworks on the old Westwood. I've not been for years, ever since my mum's straw bag caught fire from a stray ember. A day of happy chazza shopping (only purchase was a book of Joan Baez's Christmas songs) was followed by a drink at Nellies.
Then back home to change into wellies. Borrowed of course, these city folk would've just gone along in our Converse. (Which would've been a massive fail. I was up to my calves in a mixture of mud and cow pat at one point.)
The narrow roads up to the Westwood were absolutely mobbed with welly-wearing townsfolk, trudging up for the display.
The bonfire was huge. The crowd got all excited when it was lit, but excitement gave way to a lull as everyone became transfixed by the flames.
Then the fireworks. I generally hate things that go bang, but they were at a safe distance. There were some groovy twirly ones, some that sort of sang a tune (really, it was weird) and then the big starburst ones that look as though they're coming towards you. Totally pretended I was in a scene from Melancholia. (Have you seen it? I loved it, personally. That final scene had the cinema in a stunned silence as the credits rolled!)
We walked the smoke out of our lungs the next day with a walk up to the Black Mill; a mill on the Westwood that everyone walks towards hypnotically.
We had such a nice weekend that I can't stop looking at houses for sale up in Beverley. This lovely 3 bedroom house costs £145,000, and overlooks a green and a church. I grew up right around the corner. So tempting, after years of London flat living...