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My love and I have had a wonderful afternoon in town :) We chilled in the Polish beer tent, I’ve got some new pjs (I’m Griffindor through and through!) it was free comic book day so we hung out in Forbidden Planet for a while, my new Taylor-Burton DVDs finally arrived in HMV, my lovely man bought us a set of Han and Leia mugs and we’ve got some drinks for tonight. We’ll be continuing our Star Wars marathon and perhaps playing some Star Wars monopoly with lots of food and booze. So bloody happy!

northern england gothic

“it’s grim up north” your southern friend jokes when he visits. the sun hasn’t risen for 50 days and at night, the moon is blood red. the only animals to visit your garden are crows that caw ceaselessly. on the 51st night, blood begins to fall from the sky. this southerner is not your friend. 

 pastry. they like pastry here. pies and pasties are a staple. you get the bus into town one day, and feel a bit peckish, when you notice something strange. there aren’t shops any more. just greggs the bakers. endless greggs the bakers as far as the eye can see. when did this happen? you ask and elderly lady. she squints up at you. her glasses are very thick. but dear, she says, it’s always been like this. 

you visit london. “ohhhh, i love northern accents!” someone tells you. “it sounds like a different language up there, doesn’t it!” you grit your teeth and smile. i’ve laid a curse on your entire family. you say. nobody will live to see the end of the year. she doesn’t understand. she calls you “quaint”. you smile and smile and smile.

it is the 1980s. a conservative MP surveys the constituency map of england on his wall and frowns at the patch of red toward the top of it. “fucking labour” he guffaws, spittle gumming up the corners of his mouth. “the socialist republic of south yorkshire!”. he turns away to hoover up more fat lines of coke. he’s growing complacent. soon we shall rise and consume him. everything will become red. the map will stay on the wall. 

there’s an elderly man living next door to you. he has a flat cap and a whippet and a tweed jacket. he’s very kind, and tells you how much he loves his wife as she sits by him, smiling indulgently. she never speaks and she’s much younger than him. she always dresses like a 1940s land girl. one day he reaches out to pull her close for an embrace and his hand slips right through her. she’s a ghost. I wish someone was still here he says as he rises to let the dog out, and walks right through you too. 

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Photoset: Abandoned estate, sunny day, April 11 2015.

Click individual pictures to enlarge.

Ghost Town - The Specials

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Sheffield, England.

Sheffield is located in the county of South Yorkshire in the North of England. It was first established as an Anglo Saxon village. This village was nothing but a small clearing in the forest which today has expanded to become the fourth largest city in England. The name Sheffield is derived from the words ‘sheaf’ and 'feld’. 'Sheaf’ is the name of the river that runs through the city and 'feld’ meaning 'field’ in reference to the setting up of the Anglo Saxons settlement. The expansion of the village to a town brought with it disease and poverty. 

There were more people able to pass through the city or take up residency there due to the Industrial Revolution and increased transportation conditions. However, in 1843 Sheffield became a borough, with this came the improved conditions and the introduction of institutions to the town such as churches, hospitals and schools. Sheffield was recognised as a city in 1893. It is a derivative of a market and parish town. Today there are still daily local markets in the city centre and the city’s cathedral is a spectacular sight…. http://www.britinfo.net/information/sheffield/sheffield-history.htm