shewhomust | Out and about

It's spring. The calendar says so (or at least, it did when I started to write this so it must be even more true now!), and the weather agrees. I'm even feeling springlike myself, having been out of the house several times in the past few days - which shouldn't be something to post about, but apparently it is.

Durham's Farmers' Market is a pale shadow of its former self, but I had errands to do in town, and thought I might as well do them on Thursday and visit the market, and any visiting farmers. This paid off, as the winter vegetable people were there, for the last time this season, and we were pleased to see each other, and I bought vegetable. We delivered a couple of boxes to the charity shop, and I returned my library book. I collected my boot from the locksmith, who told me this was the last shoe repair they would be accepting, and we shared memories of Durham's former cobbler's shop. And while I was there, I visited the book stall, and bought a couple of books: don't think of this as self-indulgence, think of it as supporting a local trader.

D. was spending the weekend with us, around an appointment of his own in Yorkshire. On Saturday he invited us to lunch at a farm shop of our choice, and after some indecision, much research and a little confusion, we headed for Bradley Burn - a little nervously, because their website put so much emphasis on their business as a caravan park. As we remembered, this was not really intrusive: the big change since our last visit was that what had been a farm shop (and latterly, a much reduced one) was now an antique shop. But the café was still attached, so this simply offered something entertaining to look at, while D. and

durham_rambler ate their ice cream sundaes - I was full of excellent chips, and contented myself with stealing

durham_rambler's chocolate flake. After lunch, we went into Wolsingham, took a short walk around the churchyard, and dived into the Charity Shop - which is simply called "Charity Shop", and is much bigger than it looks. I bought some books (well, d'uh!).

On Sunday morning we woke to a heavy frost, but the sun was still shining, and it lured us out again. If I'm asked to choose, I'm always likely to opt for the seaside, and suggested Hartlepool, because D. claimed not to be familiar with the place. He thought he might have visited a church there once with our late and much missed bell-ringing friend, but when we parked outside St Hilda's (Hartlepool's most historic church, pictured) it wasn't the one.

I like what Pevsner - the new edition, so I don't know whether credit goes to the man himself or to the reviser - says about Hartlepool:

The Headland is one of the most unforgettable places in the county. A finger of land surrounded by the sea, buildings magnificent and drab, its spaces contained and vacuous, a town of sharply discorant contrasts.

This is all true. Plus - and we took a very short stroll, because the wind from the sea cut like a knife - a lighthouse, a major incident of the First World War, a sandy little beach outside the town wall and a statue of Andy Capp. We didn't visit the museum, we didn't buy ice cream, and we were fome in time for lunch.

That was fun: we should do it more often.