Dunstable: Sunshine and Buttercups

Having recently moved back home after a three year stint at uni, it's nice to explore my home town of Dunstable with somewhat fresh eyes. Relive experiences I had when I was younger, picnics with my family and lazy summer days with my boyfriend.

I can't say I have always (or ever) loved Dunstable, however a little bit of sunshine made me see it differently. The Downs (or the up and downs as the kids call them) is a lovely little area to spend an afternoon chilling out, flying kites...well trying, and taking in my little surroundings.

On days when the sun comes out, it's a really pretty place to escape the boarded up shop fronts and smile at the sight of a million and one buttercups.

Oh Chester, how I've missed you!

Back in 2006, before I moved even further north to the 'Lizzle, I worked for the best part of a year in the Chester YHA.

The YHA has since closed, and I hadn't been back since I left, so getting to take a little day trip to the place where I discovered the wonders of charity shops and dancing all night was fabulous!

You know the feeling you get when you haven't seen somebody you love for a while, excited bubbles in your belly? That's how I felt as my train rumbled into Chester station.

Wandering up City Road, it all started to come back to me..."Oh I remember having a drink there" and "Awww, that's where Celia drunkenly dropped her purse and scattered the contents all over the road.." (Yes, I also discovered the art of drinking here).


Once in the city, I can see that thankfully, not a lot has changed. There are a couple of new shops, but it's still the same old place it was.The black and white buildings that are a symbol of Chester still house modern clothes shops, the Clock Tower still looks over the city , the only thing missing today is the roaring Roman Centurian.

A man shouts "BIG ISSUE! THIS WEEK'S BIG ISSUE!" at passers by as they go about their business.

After rumaging around the million charity shops that the tiny city centre has, and a little mooch around the new vintage shop where a woman talks about the wonders of having a tortoise and how great it is to have a pet for 50 years, I take a little stroll down to the river.

It seems so far away from the busy centre, so calm and peaceful. Fat pigeons waddle about scavenging for food, only to find the occassional cigarette butt.

Being back in the place where I spent many happy a day bargain hunting, chilling in the sunshine by the river and generally having a great time definately made me smile.

"Oh Chester, how I've missed you!"

Small town's scheme makes a big difference

Most of you won’t have heard of Todmorden, but buried away in this small, yet busy market town in West Yorkshire a revolution has taken place. The town of Todmorden launched the Incredible Edible scheme, growing their own fruit and vegetables to highlight the importance of local produce.

Two years ago, after an inspiring visit to a conference, Pam Warhurst sat in her friend Mary Clear’s kitchen and told her that they needed to change the way they thought about where their food came from.

The scheme initially began with a seed swap, during which time residents grew vegetables in their own gardens. It then grew with the local council essentially selling areas of land to people for £10 which led to edible produce being planted around the town.


Today, after involvement with the local primary care trust, fruit such as rhubarb and cranberries can be found growing outside the station and the health centre.

A previously unused patch of land has now been prepared to grow vegetables after positive talks with Network Rail. The vegetables will be planted by local volunteers, and once the vegetables start growing, anybody can pick and enjoy them.

Walking through Todmorden, I can see why the scheme has worked so well. Todmorden seems like a very tight community. People are standing and chatting to each other, greeting everybody who passes them with an “Ah-riiight” in their thick Yorkshire accent, an accent that even comes through in the one piece of graffiti by the canal. A poster asking “What sort of dog owner are you?” has gained the response “Reet Fluffy!” in neat letters underneath.

Inside the Market Hall, stalls sell a variety of products, from craft supplies to meat. The market butcher proudly displays a sign that all the meat is from his own farm. The “local products for local people” school of thought is evident throughout the town, with independent shops, such as the butcher, the grocers and the general store dominating the High Street, rather than chain stores.


After the original success of Incredible Edible, a new Every Egg Matters campaign was launched last spring. Residents are encouraged to keep free range hens to provide eggs for their families and sell any extra eggs to neighbours and other members of the community.

In an article in the local paper, the Todmorden News, Beryl Tyrer explains “People are a bit nervous about starting with hens, but if you have a garden or a bit of land and you get prepared before they arrive, they are quite easy to keep.”

The Incredible Edible scheme has been a great success for Todmorden, in terms of producing local food. It has also inspired other areas of the UK to follow in their footsteps with schemes now up and running in York, London and Ramsbottom, and there is also interest from Switzerland to introduce a similar scheme there.

The scheme has been in effect for a while now, so what does the future hold? Team member Estelle Brown says “Incredible Edible is still expanding and being planned, that never ends. It kind of grows organically just like the fruit, vegetables and hens.”

Snowdrop searching in Kircudbright

I’m sure this year everybody has had enough of snow. Snowdrops on the other hand are very pretty and don’t bring the country to a stand still. February marks the beginning of the snowdrop festival in Scotland, and many attractions celebrate the bloom of this tiny white flower by opening their garden gates to the public.

Broughton House, in the small fishing town of Kirkcudbright is one of a number of places to celebrate the snowdrop. The tiny garden has a small number of the wintery flower in it, as well as a fat, one eyed cat called Oscar.

I have to say that unfortunately, festival was over selling it a bit; however, Kirkcudbright is a very sweet and quaint little place.

The alley way that leads to Broughton House’s garden also leads to a small harbour where a number of small boats bob around in the water. The landscape for a part is picture perfect, but a slight move to the right unveils an area that is a little less picturesque.

The town itself, once the small number of school children have dispersed is quiet, but not dull. Around every corner there seems to be another alleyway, often leading to somebody’s home.

Although I have to say I was disappointed at the lack of snowdrops, the two hours I spent wandering around Kirkcudbright were not wasted.

Vintage fun in a cosy Carlisle cafe

Tucked away on Abbey Street away from the hustle and bustle of the city centre is a cosy cafe called Foxes Cafe Lounge.

On Tuesday night, Foxes played host to the Vintage Tea Party, where guys and girls could browse brooches, bags and some particularly Jackie O-esque sunglasses while sipping on hot chocolate, coffee and cocktails.

Many saw it as an oportunity to showcase their penchant for clothing of days gone by, dressing in an apropriate uniform, from bold prints to prom dresses. The shared affection that everybody had for their surroundings created a relaxed and chatty atmosphere.

Foxes has a bohemian look whatever day of the week, but Tuesday, it was transformed with tea light candles lighting up the room from within vintage china teacups, scarves hung across the ceiling to form fabric bunting and handmade cupcakes creating an even more homely feel.

All of a sudden the place grew in volume, both in sound and people. Cosy armchairs became our escape from the eager shoppers, and although some people may not find the 'sardine in a tin' feel I had when trying to negotiate a path around the three tables covered in vintage goodies, the sheer excitement at spotting a small polka dot butterfly pot meat that even having my toes trodden on multiple times didn't matter.

Quiet days filled with snow

Apparently you know you're a grown up when you see snow and think "oh god, how am i going to get to work?"

It could be the fact that I am on my christmas holidays from uni, or the fact that I don't work right now that means I don't get that feeling. I still get excited when I see snow. I love snow. I love how pure and sparkly my world looks when it's covered in millions of snowflakes. Everywhere seems so peaceful.

So here are a few pictures of my quiet, beautiful sparkly world...

This is what the field behind my house looks like, the sky is a really unusual colour. Not quite blue, not quite yellow, not quite red, just a funy little mixture of them all.

Day 1- “Each great adventure starts with one wrong turn"

“You ready? You don’t look ready!” I’m not exactly sure how I don’t look ready, but I am. I am ready for this adventure up to Skye. Within six hours we will be right up in the Scottish Highlands and beyond. Or so I thought…

As soon as we’re on the motorway, Dean spots a sign for Drumlanrig Castle. He’s got a bit of a thing for castles I think. So, off we go in search of the castle, Tom the sat nav apparently doesn’t approve of this, shouting “Turn around as soon as possible!” We don’t listen.

We pass a sign saying the castle is closed, but hey, what the hell we’ll have a look at it anyway, that’s ok. We drive around the area for a bit, looking out for the castle, and reach the edge of a small town…ok, we must have gone the wrong way, no problem, we’ll go the other way. Except we can’t find it in that direction either! Where is this castle? “Castle closed? Castle gone! I am gunna drive around here until I find this castle! I don’t care; I want to see the castle!”

We never found Drumlanrig Castle; we drove through Wanlockhead, Scotland’s highest village, we followed a red road around the countryside, we spent two hours driving around looking, but we never found it.

Its ok Dean says, “Every great adventure starts with one wrong turn!” That’s fine with me, I’m happy to just take in the scenery, not in any rush to get anywhere.

We pull into a tiny petrol station in Muirkirk where you can get any sandwich filling, as long as you like it with mayo and chicken. Luckily I do.

Driving along I notice how much Scotland looks exactly like the side of a shortbread tin, it’s as if the scenery has been painted on to the world. Apparently Tom doesn’t share this view and seems to have death wish, “Make a sharp right!” That would take us into the central reservation! Once again we ignore him.

We stop at a place called Pitlochry, where salmon are known to pass through, jumping out of the water, however today there is not a salmon in sight and Dean’s promise to catch me one with his teeth like a bear is unfulfilled.

The air is so clean and fresh, I can see my breath. It’s like walking around in a freezer. But the view makes it worth the cold; the trees are reflected on the water, all orange and green- the trees, not the water.


After eight hours of driving, we finally make it to the Kyleakin on the Isle of Skye. Dean is so excited that we have made it, but shocked that the YHA that he was so looking forward to staying in no longer exists that he mounts the curb!

We book into Saucy Marys Backpackers and start drinking. The bathroom in the hostel bar has that familiar hostel smell. If you have never stayed in a backpackers, well it smells like damp and mould.


Unfortunately, a couple who are sitting at the same table as us don’t exactly get Dean’s sense of humour and quickly turn their backs to us. It could also be the socks and thongs (flip flops) look that Dean is sporting, “Chicks dig it” he assures me. We are told that later there will be a guy playing guitar, “It’ll be Crowded House” says Dean.

Across the road is King Haakans where a band from Edinburgh is playing. Unfortunately the combination of their own songs and the David and Goliath fight on TV means that they are mostly playing to themselves.

We head back over to our hostel, and walk in to the bar where the guy is playing ‘Take the weather with you’…by Crowded House…“I told you!” the next hour is spent with Dean shouting requests and singing along, loudly, with the guitar man.

12.30am is bedtime. I don’t sleep much that night. Dean has threatened to engage in behaviour known to take place in hostel dorms…hosing…or in other words pissing on people while they are asleep. I am the only other person in the dorm and not wanting to experience this, I am on alert but manage about two or three hours sleep eventually.