Andrew and I got a lift into Easterby with Dad where, after much searching, I bought shoes. We toured the second hand shops and back street worlds of Crossley Street and Leckenby Road and down the steep flight of stone steps to the Bahawal for a curry dinner. It was very dark inside until our eyes became accustomed. We were the only two customers.
The immigrant population adds a lot to Easterby: colourful saris, exotic-looking sweet shops, ancient tailors, etc. Somebody must record it all, because within a generation or so this latest wave will be absorbed into the culture.
All the bureaucracy involved in going to Uni. (financial and medical forms and so on), turns me off.