PRESTON. A Cake in The Afternoon.

It was one of those “don’t really want to do much” sort of Saturdays but as I may have said before, I don’t like a day going to waste as you don’t get a refund on any unused ones.

I settled on a bit of a roundabout bus tour taking in Chorley and Preston, two towns that have Lancashire written through them like they were sticks of rock. The bus ride over to Chorley through Wigan was uneventful, it makes a pleasant change to be driven instead of being the one driving. Traffic is still annoying but I can just sit back and watch the world stutter and joggle its way past the windows. Make a few notes for blogs etc, try to remember where I’ve put things, all the esoteric stuff that comes as a bundle with life.

I took a walk around the market at Chorley and then decided to head off to Preston an its monolith bus station. Again the ride was straightforward, though I marvel at the memory prowess of the drivers as they negotiate the outer regions of some of the estates they travel through, threading a bus through sharp bands and unhelpful corners.

Preston Bus Station a brutalist fortress for buses.

Preston was reached easily and I took myself off for a wander. Unfortunately one of my favourite stop off’s, The Harris Museum, is currently undergoing a renovation so I couldn’t renew my acquaintance with some of the objects and paintings, including the enigmatic portrait ‘Pauline In The Yellow Dress’. The lady featured has something of an Agatha Christie character about her, the one who may have done it but you don’t know for sure.

The afternoon was sliding into wind down mode by now and I had the journey back. Action was needed. I walked across into the market hall and into Aunt Dolly’s café. I like markets and I like cafes so this was a win win. So I enjoyed a people watching session with a big cake and a cuppa for company.