Up North

The day started quietly. The sun was shining and there was no sign of any clouds. We had wall-to-wall blue. It was perfect.

The Gorse Fox had his cousins’ call. It was time for another windup, so he searched out a suitable Zoom background and then presented himself in a huge open plan living room with panoramic views across Table Bay. When Tim saw it, he commented on our Filipino maids wandering into shot. The Gorse Fox explained they had strict instructions that he should not be disturbed and should remain below stairs until the call was complete.

The Gorse Fox also explained that he had to head up north. It is, after all, the school reunion for his and the two subsequent years (thanks to Covid). He headed off soon after lunch and a couple hours later he was checked into one of the smallest hotel rooms he has ever been in. In fact, in the en suite the ceiling is so low that his head brushes it if he doesn’t duck. (The bath has been sunk into the floor to allow room for a shower).

The Gorse Fox has wonderful memories of St Albans and, by arriving early, he had time to wander around. He remembers how, after getting off the bus at the top of Holywell Hill he would walk (on nice days) down past the Cathedral. Usually, at the time he went by, the choir would be practising. It was wonderful. The entry to the Cathedral through Sumpter Yard is directly opposite his hotel. That was first stop. As if they knew he was coming, the choir was there practising. It brought a lump to his throat.

After touring the Cathedral (the Gorse Fox always things of it as the Abbey, not Cathedral for some reason) he wandered into the town up past French Row and into the market square where there was a full Saturday market in progress. He stopped every now and again to try and remember the old shops (now replaced) and chat with some of the older market stall holders. He headed back down St Peter Street to where he would catch the bus. The old Cinema, in whose foyer he would shelter in bad weather, has long gone and been converted into a number of shops.

He headed back to the park surrounding the Cathedral and tried to retrace his route to school. He found the path down to “Ye Olde Fighting Cocks” (reputedly the oldest Inn in England having been occupied sine Roman times) then along towards the lake and then school. He couldn’t complete the old walking route as they have now built an athletics track and a golf course across the old fields and footpaths he would use.


He is back at the “The White Hart” and has a couple of hours before he needs to head to school.