To recover from a week of interviews and job conundrums, me and Dee take in the Hull air with a seven-mile walk of downtrodden, less seen, Hull. I resolve to return with a camera. This is beautiful, untouched, urban nonsense, all of it. We head down Sculcoates, past the Urban Sensation development (marketed as city centre living but next to a great big Extracting company), cut through by what's left of the River Hull, past some allotments, the smelt-meets-Cadbury's-Twirl-smell of Wincolmlee, thru Garden Village and into East Hull, where I have childhood memories reawakened at the Splashboat and I overdose on mallows at the purpose-built East Park cafe. Me and Dee thought the new building was ace, but still populated by the people you expect to see at an east Hull cafe. We took a window seat by the charming water feature, only for the over-exuberant waitress to become the most attentive tertiary-employee in history. She swept around us. Wiped three times. All without uttering a word and in a brusque manner that suggested the only way she'd get rid of undesirables like us was to scare us off with an epic cleaning spree.
Then walked home past the J Arthur Rank dosshouse, Sew to Sew, Wed N Things, Cuddly Girls and the Charterhouse, having bought an album of Cossack music purchased from Help The Aged. A lovely afternoon for a skint January.
Listening: Larrikin Love; Ray LaMontagne new stuff, Kings Of Leon forthcoming album
Watching: Leo Sayer being ridiculous with a broom in Celeb Big Brother: "Beatles, Peter Gabriel, Stones, Sayer."