Monday, September 20, 1982


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.

No comments:

Google Analytics Alternative