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On my first visit to Chorley I found pies, a park and much else to ponder. I’m itching to get out around the country again
Stuck at home, everyone is asking each other what they miss about how things used to be. I miss being able to get around the country. My work takes me to all sorts of random places I would never otherwise have cause to go to. And if work doesn’t deliver, I will just choose somewhere and go. My selection criterion is best illustrated in an exchange I had with a colleague at the BBC in Salford. I was looking for somewhere random to go one free Monday afternoon and was considering Chorley. “I live in Chorley,” said this chap. “What the fuck do you want to go to Chorley for?” Bingo, off to Chorley I went.
I bought a charger from a hardware store and had a chat with the owner. I bought a pie from a bakers and chewed it thoughtfully, beholding an optician’s shopfront advertising Professional Family Eyecare, wondering if the word “professional” was really necessary, implying, as it does, that such a thing as amateur eyecare might exist. I proceeded to a church where I spoke to an old man who told me he spent a few minutes there every day remembering his late wife. There was a park. Our country’s countless urban and suburban parks, be they grand – like Chorley’s Astley Park – or humble, are truly wonderful places. I finished with a cup of tea in a cafe where the owner was being noticeably kind to a chap with learning disabilities. Continue reading...