We stayed overnight at Morecambe in the north of England on our way down to the south of England and after a horrible drive to get there we went out for a wee walk to stretch our legs. As you can see the weather isn’t too bad it had brightened up after the heavy rain and mist which accompanied us most of the way there. I find it quite scary on motorways in weather like that and there seemed to be hardly any ordinary cars on the road, lorries were everywhere. They aren’t good for the environment – or my nerves.
I took this photo from the end of Morecambe pier, looking back to the town. Morecambe Bay is huge and dangerous, my brother and I nearly came to grief there as kids in the summer of 1969, the water comes at you from all directions and before you realise it – it has engulfed you.
This one was taken from the same position at the end of the pier but looking in the opposite direction. The hills in the distance are those of the Lake District of Wordsworth fame but when we drove through that area earlier the weather was too bad to stop and most of the hills were hardly visible at all through the mist and rain.
In recent years the esplanade has been buffed up and one of the decorative themes is these metal cormorants, they seem to be everywhere, they look quite comical really.
The main reason why we were stopping at Morecambe was so that Jack could take more photos of the Midland Hotel, it’s a bit of an art deco icon and he’s keen on that sort of thing. Mind you, I like it too, it’s all very Agatha Christie and Poirot-ish. It’s the sort of place that you stay in for a treat though, an anniversary maybe so we didn’t stay there although we plan to soon. Afternoon tea was on our agenda this time but we didn’t manage that either as the journey there took longer than we expected. Actually, Morecambe was so dead I’ve got a feeling that that sort of thing doesn’t begin until the ‘high’ season at Easter so we were probably too early for afternoon tea.
Apart from the newly done up sea front the town of Morecambe is in a sadly dilapidated state, like most seaside towns. It bears no resemblence to what it was when I was a wee girl, I remember it as being all rock shops and fresh sea food stalls, ‘Kiss Me Quick’ hats and fudge shops. There was absolutely nothing like that, in fact there was nothing much at all.
Jack took these photos of The Midland on our previous visit.
Such is the mixture of architecture on streets in Britain that I can be photographing a Tudor or medieval building and he’s taking one of an art deco cinema, Burton’s or Woolworths store. I’m sure people think it’s a bit mad. Art Deco is one of those love it or hate it things – what’s your opinion?
