I am going to write this now to be topical and add pictures when I get some at a later date.(I've done it. Just click on enlarger to see Minster in distance and also windmill ruins) Or just google some pictures of Beverley East Yorkshire, to get the idea. Frances(Carpet Full of Holes)is doing an autobiog and was born in Beverley which is a town very near to where I live. As she was probably very small when she was there and can't remember what it was like I thought I would fill her in on a few details.
Beverley is an old East Yorkshire market town with a large Minster. A bit like York, but on a smaller scale. We often go walking the dogs on Beverley Westwood which is a oak tree surrounded pasture with views of Beverley and the Minster nestling in the valley. It is a picture-postcard perfect English country town with many old medieval buildings, a market place (where on occasions Morris Dancers can be seen plying their trade, seem to have a good time, like their beer, I think the dancing is just an excuse) cobbled streets, medieval arches to drive through and many Olde English pubs, called things like 'The Rose and Crown' and 'The White Hart'.
There is one of the most atmospheric pubs I have ever been in here called Nellies. It is called Nellies because orginally it used to be Nelly's front room and she brewed her own beer and bustled about in her skirts as she used to pour the foaming brew out of a jug for the visiting yeomanry. The mirrors are so old they are black and the walls are nicotine stained brown, and the floors are flag stones, but no longer have straw on them. The building is so old that the outside walls are bowed and I often point them out to my kids as we go past and they marvel that the building is still standing.
I got married here at the Registry Office and had the reception in a hotel next to the Registry Office called The Lairgate. My son Jack was born in a cottage hospital overlooking the Westwood, and I once had a job cleaning some of the huge Edwardian villas surrounding it. Shockingly dirty, some of them, but the upper classes don't usually bother about that sort of thing, it is usually the lower orders who are rather cleaner.
The Westwood is hilly and has woods and an old quarry which is now overgrown. If I were to meet my maker tomorrow I want a bench here near the wood overlooking the Minster with 'Beverley' on it as a memorial. Though obviously they would need to put a few more details on it or people would think it had just been left by the Council. Jack tested his toddler legs on its inclines. There are lots of bullocks ambling about and stopping the traffic like they own the place. On Bonfire night there are fireworks here and it is super scary as, it being open countryside, it is pitch black so it is a military operation getting the kids back to the car among the crowds and heaven help you if you were to let go of one of their hands. Also a racecourse which has a kite festival and where you can buy kites which actually fly.
Beverley is an old East Yorkshire market town with a large Minster. A bit like York, but on a smaller scale. We often go walking the dogs on Beverley Westwood which is a oak tree surrounded pasture with views of Beverley and the Minster nestling in the valley. It is a picture-postcard perfect English country town with many old medieval buildings, a market place (where on occasions Morris Dancers can be seen plying their trade, seem to have a good time, like their beer, I think the dancing is just an excuse) cobbled streets, medieval arches to drive through and many Olde English pubs, called things like 'The Rose and Crown' and 'The White Hart'.
There is one of the most atmospheric pubs I have ever been in here called Nellies. It is called Nellies because orginally it used to be Nelly's front room and she brewed her own beer and bustled about in her skirts as she used to pour the foaming brew out of a jug for the visiting yeomanry. The mirrors are so old they are black and the walls are nicotine stained brown, and the floors are flag stones, but no longer have straw on them. The building is so old that the outside walls are bowed and I often point them out to my kids as we go past and they marvel that the building is still standing.
I got married here at the Registry Office and had the reception in a hotel next to the Registry Office called The Lairgate. My son Jack was born in a cottage hospital overlooking the Westwood, and I once had a job cleaning some of the huge Edwardian villas surrounding it. Shockingly dirty, some of them, but the upper classes don't usually bother about that sort of thing, it is usually the lower orders who are rather cleaner.
The Westwood is hilly and has woods and an old quarry which is now overgrown. If I were to meet my maker tomorrow I want a bench here near the wood overlooking the Minster with 'Beverley' on it as a memorial. Though obviously they would need to put a few more details on it or people would think it had just been left by the Council. Jack tested his toddler legs on its inclines. There are lots of bullocks ambling about and stopping the traffic like they own the place. On Bonfire night there are fireworks here and it is super scary as, it being open countryside, it is pitch black so it is a military operation getting the kids back to the car among the crowds and heaven help you if you were to let go of one of their hands. Also a racecourse which has a kite festival and where you can buy kites which actually fly.
