33 Years after the last one shut down they have just opened a new cinema in Ripon, part of the London based Curzon group and, I believe, their first cinema outside of London. How strange is that? Of all the places they could chose they chose Ripon. There is obviously something special about North Yorkshire and the (upmarket) clientele in Ripon. Like me you will also have noticed that they waited until we moved here.
It's what they call an arthouse cinema with serious theatre shows as well as mainstream films. This afternoon, I chose the afternoon because Jan was more likely to stay awake, we joined a lot of white haired old folk and went to see Philomena. As it happens the place was packed, which hardly surprising at only £6 a ticket. We also picked up tickets to see the RSC production of Richard 2 later this month. Philomena is a powerful and sometimes funny film and has been well reviewed. It didn't disappoint in the slightest. Recommended.
Jan, who was never allowed to visit the cinema on Saturday mornings as a child because 'it was only for rough kids' (which includes me), was especially pleased to see that they have a kids club at the weekends. Bless.
Jan's son Luke and his girlfriend were visiting so we took them around Ripon to see the sites. Last visit of the afternoon was to the Minster. It was dark and raining outside but you could see the warm welcoming lights of the Minster through the glass doors at the front.
We were alone, there were no visitors, so as some went off to explore I sat at the back and admired the Christmas decorations and sat in the warm glow. What made the visit really special was listening to the Ripon Cathedral Choir who were practising for the evening service.
We had our own private performance of seasonal music and carols. Excellent.
I've mentioned this man before, he's brilliant.
For intestinal reasons that I won't gore bore you with, we have had to put both dogs on a very bland diet. Chicken and rice or chicken and pasta and also white fish and rice.
Never having given them fish before I mentioned to Jan that as well as looking in the frozen food section (we're in our favourite supermarket, Booths) I'd go and ask the fishmonger about the cheapest fish to give them, thinking that he'd come up with something obscure that didn't sell very well.
Vic (still my best friend) mentioned that they had Hake on special offer at half price (£9.50 kilo).
My face must have expressed more than I wanted because after a short pause he said, "Hear you go, try a fillet, you can have it free. See if the dogs like it." This humongous piece of fish weighed in a nearly a kilo.
What a star. This man is pure gold and when he eventually brings Booths to its knees I'm going to help him get a job.
I'm thinking of something like an expensive car showroom!
This photo of Ripon is courtesy of TripAdvisor
I'd love to say that we planned it, for us things don't really work out that way, but here's further proof that Ripon is the place to be.
I must add a rider in that I usually hate the 50 best lists of anything but this one has a ring of truth.
Take a look at this. In a list of of the 50 Best Cheap Eats in the UK, according to the Independent, there are two mentioned in Ripon. We've eaten at one of them and will now try the other and I could add one or two more. It's probably because, amongst the landed gentry in this area (don't forget that Downton Abbey was set here), there are lots of skint foodies floating around but there you go.
Guess which category we fit into?
When we were in France I turned into a real scruff. Shorts, t-shirts and unshaven was the order of the day. I revelled in it.
I haven't quite figured out why but things are a little different here. Smarter is 'in'.
Anyway, we were in Booths today and I was at the butcher's counter. Jan makes a fabulous lamb soup (Scotch broth) and I asked the butcher for some cheap lamb cuts to make it. Maybe I was looking poor and dishevelled or maybe it was Jan but he, Vic, took pity on us and gave us a load of lamb. Free, gratis and for nothing.
Then, when we felt guilty and tried to buy some stuff, he went out of his way to make sure that what we bought was at a discount.
There are probably those amongst you who think it smart to dress up and look down on us poor, scruffy unfortunates but let me tell you that scruffy has its advantages. If you're feeling hungry, like lamb and are prepared to risk a touch of salmonella, go see Vic (my new best friend) in Booths Ripon. He's your main man (and my new best friend).
What a great day yesterday was. First I was given a blog award by the very intelligent, good looking and perspicacious Jean from this blog. A beautifully written piece if I may say so.
She totally misunderstands me when she emailed, "I'm not sure if you're the kind of bloke who goes in for this sort of thing......" Jean, I accept all awards with great humility and maximum fanfare, that's the sort of bloke I am. I have to say that I was slightly disappointed that the award didn't come with something I could put in my somewhat bare trophy cabinet or even a monetary value but I accept your kind and wonderful gesture with very many thanks.
Given the chance I'd give you one too (but others might have something to say about that.) All I've got to do is figure out how to place the 'trophy' on this site and find another five blogs to pass it on to but I promise I'll work on that.
Later in the day I was in Boots (the Chemist), quite a big Boots by Ripon standards (the only Boots in Ripon - Ed), and the lovely Susan behind the dispensing counter, after I had said, "I've come for the medicine for Hampshire," said, without reference to any notes, "is that Alex Hampshire?"
Bloody hell, I'm even known in Boots the Chemist. Real fame at last. World and local fame at its best.
Jan, who already knew about the morning award was heard to groan and mutter, "Bloody hell, there'll be no stopping him now."
I promise that celebrity won't spoil me much. Where's me limo?
I'm not a great fan of pork pies, I usually find them stodgy, solid and frankly not very appetizing.
But, that's it, look no more I have found the best pork pies in the world, bar none.
Appleton's butchers in the market place in Ripon make pies that you can only dream of. If I had a criticism of other pork pies I'd say they were like solid rubber lumps of filling with hard pastry. Appleton's on the other hand are 'light as a feather', easily digestible and keep you coming back for more, so unlike anything you've ever had before.
We were out to friends for dinner and, because they're in Lancashire, we decided to take them some real honest, top quality, Yarkshire food.
As I stood in the shop, people we queuing outside just to buy these pies. The woman in front of me wanted three and they didn't have any more but the 'lad' said, 'hang on a minute I'll go check.' He came back beaming, 'they're just coming out of the oven,' he said, and sure enough minutes later he walked in with a tray of said pies.
They were so hot that we, the whole shop, all had to wait until they'd cooled down. Excellent.
Our next door neighbours from France visited yesterday. Actually they live in Lancashire about 2 hours away (France is their holiday home) and don't seem to realise that we moved to get away from them.
Still, it was nice to see them.
During a quick trip to the Theakston brewery in Masham in the morning, I re-acquainted myself with a pint of Old Peculiar. When I were a lad (I'm surprised your memories that good.- Ed) the beer of choice was Newcastle Brown and if you were in a hurry to get pissed you drank Old Peculiar. Three pints of that stuff guaranteed you were comatose in a couple of hours.
After Theakston, we headed off for a slap up meal at the Bruce Arms in West tanfield. The booze must have had something to do with it because we booked en masse for New Years Eve. That's a first for Jan and I because we usually decide what we're going to do at about 7.00 pm on 31st and get pissed off when we can't get in.
After lunch we hit the tourist trail again and drove into Ripon and paid our first visit to the cathedral, and very nice it is too.
The tiny church built, in 660 AD, which is still intact below the knave, was a special find and the lower inscription, above, made me stop and think.
What were you doing at age 24? The chap above was killed in action commanding a submarine. Makes you think about some of the feckless youth of today.
Craig beat me to it.
I'd been thinking for a while of posting a photo of some of the flowers in the garden. Whilst we realised that the garden was well maintained and cared for when we bought the house, this spring has been a really pleasant surprise as the plants have leafed and blossomed.
It's a very tiny garden compared to the monster we had in France which is quite a relief. Just to cut back the weeds, at the old house, making some form of green area (I used to call it a lawn) took at least a morning. In 30 degree heat that's no joke but at least it was very satisfying when it was done.
Here in Ripon it takes about 30 minutes to cut the front and back lawn. It's almost not worth firing up the petrol mower.
For ages I've been trying to remove a particularly nasty residual glue, from the windscreens of the cars, left behind after taking out old insurance company holders.
If you have the same or similar problems then here's the answer. We were shopping in Lakeland the other day, Jan's favourite store, alongside Marks and Spencer, John Lewis and about 20 others, and she pointed out a product that she uses for similar jobs.
Sticky Stuff Remover Gel really works. It shifted glue that had hardened in the sun and had resisted all attempts to scrape it off. Good stuff.
So Jan and I voted in person for the first time in many years and each did the exact opposite of the other.
I won't mention how the Trot Janski voted because that might embarrass her but we effectively cancelled each other out.
So, all in all, a complete waste of time and at the next elections I'll tie her shoelaces together, put my feet up, stay at home and save myself the bother.
It's been a long time since we've had it this way. Before you get too excited I'm talking about milk deliveries, so calm down.
For years we've bought milk from the supermarket, as and when, but Paul our friendly neighbourhood milkie knocked on the door the other day and now we get it delivered. I rather like that. A trip down memory lane but with a good purpose.
And now that I'm thinking about it I can even remember a time when the 'pop' lorry used to call and delivered a large bottle of dandelion and burdock or whatever. Can you imagine that happening today?
What does happen is that every afternoon around 4.30 the ice cream van stops just near the house and dispenses his gloop to a very welcome old and young audience. OK, I know it's not real ice cream but on the odd occasion we've both partaken of a cone and enjoyed it.
Nostalgia lives on!
By the way, Ed says 'hi' to Matilda.
The birds around here must be bloody starving. Is nobody else feeding them?
I quite like to watch birds in the garden and listen to bird song through the window so we bought a bird feeder and hung it from a tree in the garden.
Grief they get through the bird seed at a real rate of knots. We seem to be filling the feeder every few days.
Will you tight arse Yorkshire folk help out a bit and buy some bloody seed. I can't afford to feed em all!
I've always supported the Salvation Army. Not because of any religious convictions but because they are generally good people and they do lots of good works for the disadvantaged.
With that in mind, after our move to England, we had a lot of stuff to give away, mostly duvets, blankets and other textiles. The nearest Salvation Army shop is in Thirsk so it was there that we went this morning.
It's a long time since I'd been to Thirsk, mainly because a journey up t'north has for a long time involved the A19 town bypass. What a quaint, pleasant place it is. Especially the market place. Jan, whose early memories of the north were Coronation Street and dark satanic mills, was oohing and aahing as we drove around.
'That were reet nice,' she said, as we headed back home, reet nice.'
I sense the woman is changing to a bonnie northern bairn.
I must admit that I was a bit worried. The Jeep that we brought with us from France needed new headlights to conform to UK regulations, so I tried the local main dealer and he told me that there were no headlights to be had anywhere in either the UK or Germany.
That was a bit of (OK a big) bombshell. Without headlights it couldn't be MOT'd, without an MOT it couldn't be insured and without insurance it couldn't be registered in England. Without it being registered I couldn't keep it in England.
I called the garage again yesterday but they weren't at all hopeful. All they could suggest was that I tried eBay or a breakers yard. Bugger.
A couple of minutes after the conversation I was searching on the internet. One place came back quickly with a zero but a couple of minutes later I got a call from a Chrysler breakers yard in Osbaldtwistle, Lancashire to ask when did I want them delivered? I was dumbfounded.
I think my lucky penny is still working for me. Did I mention my lucky penny? Some time back we met the Ripon Hornblower. What I didn't say was that he hands out 'lucky' wooden pennies. When Jan and I met him that cold and dark night he gave us one each. I didn't mention it because you might think that I'm an idiot (you got it in one - Ed) but ever since then I've had lots of good luck, well OK, less bad luck. Good eh?
There I was waxing lyrical about Ripon market, before we set out yesterday, only to find that there were exactly three stalls open.
Admittedly it was blowing a gale, a real hooley, so I suppose that's a bit of an excuse.
I really miss the market in Sommieres. Not just for the kebabs, with my mate Bryan, but because it's an authentic French market stuffed full of French folk with the odd foreigner (some very odd) and some good quality stalls. Not cheap though.
I much preferred Sommieres to Uzès market. Not because Uzès wasn't a good market, it was, but because every second voice was a Priscilla or a Henry (with the statutory panama hat). Not only wasn't it French enough it was always heaving. Not much fun really.
S'funny how habits are difficult to shake off. I still look at the Languedoc Page Forum every day mostly because some of the posters there are funny and with a few insults (boy's stuff) flying around, it usually makes for an interesting diversion. Peter, who runs the page, became a friend over the years and I'll miss his very funny stories about his in-laws.
Still, before I break down in tears, we have our own miniature market here in Ripon every Thursday. It's very small with just one of each type of stall selling good stuff at reasonable prices and not a panama hat in sight, only flat caps and whippets. True Yorkshire grit.
