Friday, June 13, 2003

 

Day 50. Saturday 14 June 2003. A Day with John.

John asked me if I would like a ride down to near Blackpool. He is the area Caravaning Club camp site inspector who visits potential new sites who apply for listing. I jumped at the chance.

We left mid morning and John took me on a nostalgic route through to Lancaster and on to the old A6 main highway and we headed south. I'm afraid I did not recognise much at all except in Lancaster I recognised the inclined street where our Mum used to call into a café for a cup of tea when she was shopping in Lancaster. I went with her on the odd occasion shopping when on holiday from South Shields or possibly on leave when in the Merchant Marine. I remembered the street hill incline and roughly where the café was located.

I think we took a couple of sandwiches and some fruit from our car and stopped off for lunch just before we arrived at our destination. Our destination was the outskirts of a small village; a small farm who wanted to put in some caravan power points and list in the caravan and camping guide.

Whilst John inspected and measured and discussed with the owner I wandered away to look around. I could hear splashing nearby over a steep grassy bank with earthen steps upwards. Topping the rise I was very much surprised to find 3 large ponds and about 6 fishermen with large surf casting rods which appeared too large for the job. I could see splashing in the water as I walked along the bank of these man made ponds. I asked a close by fisherman what fish inhabited the ponds and the reason for the splashing. He told me Rudd, Carp and Perch inhabited the ponds and the splashing was from the large ones in the shore lined weed laying eggs and the fertilisation. I asked what size the fish were and he indicated half a metre... probably the Carp. He did not seem inclined to talk so I wandered along. The other fishermen didn't seem to want to talk either and as I approached they turned away and to my "gidday, catching much?" they just answered with a muttered reply. Strange!

Returning I saw a large old shed with a notice pinned to the wall with charges to fish and the times to late at night and saying tea was free but supply your own food.

On our return to Morecambe John took us via a different route up the A588 and then turned off down a short road to Glasson Dock. The land is low lying and very flat down here. Glasson Dock lies on the River Lune estuary into Morecambe Bay. It was once the dock for supplying coal via the Lancaster Canal network. Now that coal is no longer king the dock is a haven for pleasure boats to sail into Morecambe Bay or enter the now disused canal network.

The day we visited was warm and sunny and the dock was alive with people and cars. We stopped to look into the local antique and curio shop with many interesting things. A very old motor bike... looking more like a heavy duty cycle. Talking to the owner, he told us it was in original mint condition. It had spent most of its life unused and greased up for protection.

We wended our way home through the thickening late afternoon traffic via Lancaster again. On a corner a pink-haired punk stood waiting to cross the road. This reminded John of a coming yearly Punk weekend gathering which was worth a visit.

All in all an interesting day seeing how other people do and spend their leisure time.

posted by OldEric 9:56 pm