Monday, 2 June 2008

The day I fell in love with Morecambe Bay

I always had a feeling about Morecambe. Something just sang inside at the thought of it and then bust into a full-blown aria as I joined the stream of traffic that wended its way along the promenade. I had been in touch with Kate at Sunset Ices and was keen to track her down. It's so interesting encountering other post-Mr Whippy mobilers and the website also sang to me a bit too.

There she was parked outside the resurrected art deco Midland hotel. I went round and round the roundabout before making a dash for it and traversing the cyclists lane and onto the promenade, actual. Kate had said she was happy for me to trade on her pitch with her but I was too enraptured by everything to even think of opening up the hatch. I roamed around like a ravaged old coyote, licking my chops with glee at the pure, uninhibited kitsch of the place.




Kate gave me an Angostura Ice which flicked my switches still further and I hung out in her van with her while she worked. Fascinating to be in the passenger seat of someones elses operation. She does all these retro treats like Oysters and Snowball Toppers and has jars and jars of sprinkles which the kids receive with total glee. The Midland was winking at me through the window so I set off to try and persuade one of the builders to show me around. This was achieved by impressing upon this one hot guy that I wasn't in town for long and would miss the big opening ceremony on Sunday.

"Ok, but if the boss comes then just keep yer 'ead down" he warned.
"Don't worry - let's just walk about like we own the joint and if that fails I've got a whole van full of chocolate outside" I assured him.

He then gave me the most comprehensive tour of this grand old dame I could have wished for - round the kitchens, the spa, the bar, the ballroom - up the curling stairs to the penthouse suite and onto the rooftop. I beamed happily away at all the hard-hats who looked like they had shed loads to do before the place could be opened and then dodged off when they started yelling for me to give my guide my phone number. I might have handed it over but I had to get back onto my and Jimmy's beloved moors.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Did my email about this get to you in time then, or was it the mystic mind messages I sent you?? Either way, glad you got to see it xxx

David Hall said...

awwww, feel like crying! good to see you are still having fun Petra

x

Anonymous said...

Hey Petra, this is Mike from M'cambe, invited you to supper. Retro comment, you're long gone from M'cambe, not actually intended for publication just saves me emailing. Was bothered that I had given you wrong impresion re paerhaps going up farm for evening and saying perhaps no-one there, might have put you off. To see farm google Middlewood, (UK), there's always someone there, Bambi and Nic and/or Rod the farmer himself. Thought after that you might have thought that I was some old perv! You did me a favour actually. Thinking about supper and I realized woefully short of ingredients and tools, not conducive to a life really, read somee of your blog and saw how others you'd met had 'lives'. I am living in this place, free rent etc but it was only a stopgap as I needed a bit of peace and quiet to readjust to the UK after being away for so long and altho' friends were marvellous I just needed to chill. So now, you've indirectly stimulated me into moving on, establishing a 'life' again, many thanks. Life's like that huh, odd things cause things. Well I hope that you made B'pool and... what can one say bout there!!! Not got the best kudos among locals to Lancs! Got go now, nice talking to you, hope you have wonderful adventures, stay safe and keep your oil and ice cream topped up huh. My email is mnhttnequine@hotmail/google.com, you ever get a mo, give us a shout. Good luck girl.