The mobile fork

Multiple-brothered J thinks my blog needs a greater sense of urgency which is a fair point especially considering the dreadful delinquency in my postings recently. I'm finding life rather tricky to handle at the moment and random musings seem to be one of the first casualties of that state of mind. But on the second leg of my journey that will take me back to Holme-next-the-Sea where I'll commence my 'staycation' I thought I'd see if my lovely new Apple iPhone could be deployed in such an exercise. Apart from the previous weekend foray to Norfolk all my trips this year have been borne of need and duty, desperate dashes to hospital bedsides and all the related to-ing and froings that ensued. This is a train journey albeit more tortured than I hoped due to the incessant need to reorganise part of the railway network every weekend. I got to visit a part of south London which I wouldn't normally find myself, and remained relatively unscathed apart from being somewhat annoyed by being forced to undertake such a preposterous detour. My lofty plans of fine dining were curtailed by the delay and being utterly unable to find acceptable tomato and mayonnaise free sandwiches in the paltry time remaining before boarding my train. But the rest of the week lays ahead strewn with culinary delights so a night off is probably a good thing. Though I have to admit a pang of jealousy knowing D and MC are planning vinegar-soaked parcels of fragrant fish and chips.
Pondering my ruminations on staycationing yesterday I forgot to add that I am fortunate enough to live in a place where at least our ancestors (though not particularly ancient I hasten to add) would take their holidays. It was a popular pleasure spot where some would 'take the waters' whilst others would visit the cloth merchants, tailors and seamstresses in order to procure next season's wardrobe. The wells of spa waters have since dried up, the cloth merchant's buildings now house a department store and my least favourite supermarket but on a balmy Saturday night the crowds will still happily swarm to the rivers edge. I suspect the water they take now has been brewed by Germans or perhaps fermented in barrels by Chileans but the expectant buzz of an evening of felicitous escapades remains.
Due to D and MC's handy situation I am now a regular-ish visitor to Cambridge and even after eight years of these trips still feel like I'm on holiday on every visit.