Hull thoughts

It’s strange the little things that put you off.

We’ve been finding out the details for a coach holiday to the Netherlands for next spring. The holiday is a bit overpriced but that is because everything is wheelchair accessible including a coach with a lift into it.

What draws us up short is the pick-up places. The nearest is at a motorway services near Leeds. Long term parking costs £12.50 per day, even for blue badge holders. That would put on an extra £100 for the holiday. That is the straw that is breaking this camel’s back & makes us wonder whether we really want to go.

I suppose it is partly that with having a blue badge we very rarely have to pay for parking so have lost touch with the cost of parking. But to us this price seems extortionate.

I’m now looking at other ways of getting to Hull port. I see going by train to Hull & getting a taxi to the port should be less than the parking. For that matter parking at Hull is just £6 a day, less than half price!

I feel a bit penny-pinching. After all if the holiday was £100 more would I hesitate? Probably not. I just sometimes get stunned how much some “little” things can be. Old habits die hard. For so many years we were too short of money to think of going on holiday - a weekend away in Britain was the most we could hope for & that not every year – that even now I regard a holiday as a bit of a luxury, an extravagance, but parking is more mundane & so should be cheap.

Hull has been much on our minds of late. We both went to university there. Indeed that was where we met up. Our friend in Harrogate who we recently visited read theology along with the Fox & introduced us to each other. It also turns out that the latest manager of our village pub comes originally from Hull. His first pub was the King Billy in Cottingham, where so much student accommodation is. He apparently got married in Cottingham church. We had a good reminisce with him earlier this week. Admittedly he arrived in Cottingham long after we had left, but still we recognised the same places. Memories of Nellie’s pub in Beverley were also evoked – a mysterious gas-lamped pub even in our new landlord’s day. Ah, those were the days!