Lancashire Lovey

"Through the dancing poppies stole a breeze most softly lulling to my soul."

John Keats

We left from Floriade, Netherlands and travelled back to Fleetwood, UK and found that the flowers were still blooming.  It was time to make sure we spent some quality time with everyone. 

"Fathers carry pictures where their money used to be."

Unknown

It is always a special treat to be able to share Father's Day and this year we enjoyed a carvery lunch at the golf club.  Knott End golf course is over 100 years old and the views are stunning.  The greens sweep down over the headland to the Wyre Estuary River mouth and the coastline of the Irish Sea.  During WWII the club's greens were used to graze sheep.  Barbed wire was rolled out along the shoreline and obstacles placed on the fairway every 200 yards to prevent enemy aircraft from landing.  Fortunately for us the clubhouse has been updated dramatically since the first wooden hut.  Lunch was a stomach stretching, 3 course affair, topped off with a few of the finest glasses of ale Knott End has to offer.  

"Ave got fot goo nair" = I've got for go now = I have to go now

Lancashire is a very special place with a local dialect which is really hard to understand if you're not from there.  I think its a throw back to the Norse influence. When I first travelled overseas, people often asked if I was Polish because the inflexion on my English was so bad.  I really wanted the kids to have a sense of the uniqueness and wonderful things the North West county of Lancashire has to offer.  We also needed to get some exercise after a weekend of eating and drinking so we decided to take a long walk along a section of the Lancashire Coastal Way.  We packed up food and water and with map in hand we started out under beautiful sunny skies.  This public footpath stretches from Freckleton in the South, 137 miles to Silverdale in the North.  Dad decided that the best section for the kids would be from Crimbles Lane to Glasson Dock.  We followed the sea wall for a mile or so then diverted towards the age old farms which are scattered along this remote rural shoreline.  In the spirit of all great child outings we set off at a cracking pace, energized and confident we would reach journeys end in a mere 2 hours.

"Not all those who wander are lost.”
J R R Tolkien

The kids were in charge of orienteering us at first but when we arrived at a field of cows with a suspiciously large looking bull, there was much debate as to which path to take.  Feeling rather hesitant, the kids received the age old question from Pops - "Wossupwithi?" (whats up with thee?).  From my early child hood memories this question was more of a rhetorical warning to just get on with it and stop whinging and whining.  So Jazz and Josh "buttoned it" (became quiet) and successfully skirted past the large black and white Friesians.  

"Cracking good job, Gromit!""Well done! We did it!" 
Wallace and Gromit

We lingered only long enough in the field to take a quick look at the remains of Cockersands Abbey. Built in 1184, the only thing left standing is the chapter house which was the meeting room.  The abbey was dissolved in the 1500's and many of the stones from the ruins were used in the old farmhouses in the region.  Some of the stones were used to build the quay at Sunderland point on the other side of the River Lune.  This windswept village was a stop off point for the cotton and slave ships, the crew could make use of the local hostelries while waiting for the waters of the estuary to rise.  The tide actually cuts off the road leading out to the Golden Ball pub at Snatchems.  This used to be a favorite haunt of the press gangs who would ply a fit young local with alcohol and whisk him away to a life at sea.  

"May your glass be ever full. May the roof over your head be always strong. And may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead."

Irish Toast

The only whisking we were doing was off to the Victoria Inn. Naturally, our walk concluded in one of the pubs at Glasson Dock before cadging a ride home with Grandma.   

"Crying, Cockles and mussels alive alive oh!"
Molly Malone

I really didn't believe all the hype about the rainiest summer on record, it was a fabulous sunny summer day.  Today was a day for scooters along the promenade and a visit to the water park in Morecambe.  The river Lune flows past the ancient city of Lancaster with its infamous castle and into the Irish Sea at Morecambe.  When the tide goes out over 120 square miles of sand are exposed in Morecambe Bay. The outgoing tide can ebb up to 7 miles from the high water mark and the incoming tide floods in faster than a person can run. It is actually possible to cross the bay on foot although very dangerous if you don't know the path through the perilous quicksand.  Cedric Robinson MBE has been the Queen's official guide across the bay since 1963.  Even so, every year people loose their lives on the shifting sands and fast tides.  In 2004, a group of Chinese cockle pickers were picking the tiny clams at low tide on sand flats.  They were cut of by the incoming tide and 23 people drowned.  Hard to believe a tidal bore could be that fatal in such beautiful scenery.  

“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”
Roger Miller

The kids made instant friends at the Happy Mount Water Park and I was reminded how long they had been away from school and friends.  We used to come to the park as kids and run riot in the crazy golf and wooden swing boats.  The bowling green and bandstand were still there and it was an instant blast of nostalgia.  Nice to know some things do stay the same.  After the mandatory cuppa tea in the cafe it was time for home.  

"Inspire a Generation"
London 2012 Olympic Motto  

It would take more than a generation to get inspired by the UK weather.  It was hard to believe we were indeed in the same country the next morning.  Black clouds scudded across the sky and the temperature had dropped radically with a cold wind chill.  Our plan was to catch a glimpse of the Olympic torch as it passed through Fleetwood on its long journey to the stadium in London.  Unfortunately, we had to catch the small ferry from Knott End across the river to Fleetwood.  It is only a small stretch of water, but with high winds and driving rain stepping aboard the small craft took quite a bit of bravery.  It felt like a tiny bath tub boat as we set sail in the stormy waters.  We were tossed and buffeted by the tidal currents at the notorious Wyre River mouth, but we managed to make it to the other side (and yes I did pay the ferry man before I got there!).  The gale force winds threatened to blow us over and we took shelter from the piercing barrage of icy raindrops besides the Old Lighthouse Monument.  The whole of the UK was gripped in Olympic fever as the torch made its way from town to town.  I thought it was a wonderful idea with each community choosing well deserving individuals to carry the torch.  Unfortunately for this runner their day in the limelight was clouded by a torrential downpour.  I worried about the Olympic torch, it had symbolically been ablaze as an icon for 2000 years and a Fleetwood downpour was trying to snuff it out.  I need not have worried, the Brits are made of sterner stuff and of course so was the gas powered cresset.