retiredmartin

If you’ve ever wondered what £24.75 buys you in Workington, wonder no more.

It gets you a nervous night, no telly, and a mug.

But I woke early enough to a drab morning, ready to give Worky a second chance.

Back to the Spoons for breakfast, along with a group of Yellow Jackets flown in from France to complain to the new Conservative MP about the Punk IPA costing £3.49.

A Proper Spoons, whatever that means.

No, I didn’t have a pint of Punk for breakfast. Or a G & T in the Conservative Club, which was probably still celebrating.

I can’t say the sun shone, but it looked a lot better than I expected.

The old pubs east of the shops may not sell cask but they looked the business.

In anticipation of imminent gentrification, Mr Wilson’s Tea Rooms had just opened, offering Workington the sort of afternoon tea long reserved for Londoners.

Workington looked a lot better than many similarly sized towns in East Angular I won’t mention.  Oh, go one then. Chatteris, Haverhill, Stowmarket, Billericay, Potters Bar.  I could go on.

Here’s a pie shop.

The downsize is the proximity to Sellafield but the children looked absolutely normal.

Having spent £24.80 on a “Guest House” and £4.80 on breakfast, I then bust the bank with my spending in HMV (top).

39 years ago, on holiday in the western Lakes, I visited Workington with £5 in 20p piece saved up to buy the new Numan LP (yes, vinyl cost nearly as much in the Middle Ages a CDs do now).

But on the drive from Keswick Radio 1 played a series of bewilderingly garbage tracks that persuaded me to save my hard earned cash for the OMD album.

This was the main atrocity;

I never did buy Telekon. Until now. It is unspeakable rubbish, though the CD version adds the singles and some experimental Eric Satie covers I quite enjoyed on the drive along the A66.