The boy's a fool!

We set off for Morecombe via the "A" roads. We got detoured in Preston for roadworks, saw the University, the Prison and the famous Preston Northend football ground and that was Preston. When we got to Morecombe it was quite busy even thought it was bracing. We parked up on the prom and had a walk. H wanted to see the memorial to Eric Morcombe. I wanted a cup of tea. We found the memorial. It is right on the front. Everyone who went there was happy. Even the miserable old gits dragged on holiday by the family and the teenage girls who were far to cool to on holiday with the family broke into a smile. The area has all Eric and Ern's catch phases and a roll call of the celebs that went on their shows.

Click HERE for a link to more info on Eric. It is definitely worth a visit but the town will only keep you occupied for a few hours perhaps a whole day if the weather was nice so you could play on the beach.

Tea and a sarny was next on the agenda. I figured that since we were in Morcombe we should have potted shrimp, a local delicacy. The shrimp for the potted shrimp are caught in the bay, cooked, peeled, put in little pots and covered with melted butter which contains the spice Mace. They taste better once they have left to mature for a few months but could we find a vendor? No chance. Southend embraces it's cockles and whelks, Bury it's Black puddings but not Morecombe it's potted shrimp. We found on odd place on the front. A tiny cafe which only seat twelve people but with a tiny deli in the back room. The ownes are local celebs in the foody set. Hid away on the menu was potted shrimp - result. When the salad came it was half full of fruit. Nice but odd, like everything else. They made their own Bread which was warm when it was served as was the shrimp which made the butter ooze all shrimpy flavoured in the bread, very nice.


After mopping the melted butter off my chin and paying the surly waiter we took another tour of the prom. At the far end is a recently renovated 1930's art deco hotel. Judging by the cars in the car park it is a posh place to stay. Morecombe is trying for another revival. The pier where the ferries used to dock has also been done up but there is three hundred yard stretch between the Pier and hotel end of the prom and the Eric bit of the prom which has not been dressed. Perhaps they will get the cash they need to complete the job.

We looked across the bays to see the hills of Cumbria. Morecombe could not hold us any longer but we still had time on our hands. We took a leisurely drive though the lakes on the back roads to avoid the excesses of Bowness and Windermere and pitched up at Deepdale Hall at five inthe afternoon.