Here we are in Paris – hang on –

The Eiffel Tower has shrunk and the sea has risen!

Actually we’re in Blackpool, Lancashire – still one of Britain’s favourite seaside resorts, though it sees nothing like the 17 million visitors per year it did in its heyday. The Blackpool Tower was modeled on the Eiffel Tower, though they must have decided that just the top bit was the best.

Mum and I drove up to Blackpool last Friday. Once we arrived it wasn’t long before we decided that Blackpool was past its prime. There was a patina of faded Victorian glory all round the place. Combine that with some 1950s concrete architecture, noisy amusement parlors, karaoke bars, fish and chip stands and souvenir shops blaring out country and western music and selling everything from sticks of Blackpool rock to Blackpool snow-domes and you get the idea.

We wandered down the famous North Pier.

This picture of North Pier gives you an idea of the sort of crowds that Blackpool used to attract.

We’d never seen a two level carousel before.


At the pier’s Victorian Tea Rooms, conspicuous in its 1930s building, we had a rather nice cream tea for lunch.

Determined to do something seaside resort-y, I had my palm read by a genuine Lancashire gypsy. I am pleased to let you know that I will live well beyond eighty – my lifeline is very long.

The rain then started to set in, and despite the promise of a long life, we decided that we had spent enough of it in Blackpool. We bought some sticks of rock and headed home.