Tuesday: Under The Bridge

It may not be the most attractive of places but I have a vague affection for our local railway bridge, I think because I’m drawn to a bit of grit and places that have stood the test of time with everything changing around them.

K and I went out locally for coffee this morning and then had a successful run of jobs that needed doing (in K’s case sanding the front door ready for painting, in my case doing Wordle).  We also rehung a mirror in the bedroom which, if truth be told, is probably a little high but fine if you want to admire your shoulders and upwards.

To the left of the bridge, behind the fence, there used to be a great little café, called ‘The Station’ which did excellent full English breakfasts.  We took an American friend there for breakfast many years ago and it was the first time she’d seen anyone (to be fair, it was K and myself) have a chip butty.  She remains traumatized to this day.