CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED
We spent most of the day with Becky and Ian at Emsworth.
Following a wander about the town, we lunched at The Greenhouse Café, then walked down South Street to the harbour, returning to Becky and Ian’s flat in North Street.
Opposite the flat a new tattoo studio has recently opened. Its slogan perhaps reflects its targeted clientele. During the last decade or so this test of endurance has become all the rage.
edibleemsworth.co.uk describes M. R. Starr in the High Street as a high class butchers/fishmongers serving both the general public and local restaurants. The rear rider on this passing tandem seemed content with her apple. Note the bull woven into the bead curtain screening the front door.
Further along the street stands another butcher’s whose website tells us that ‘H. H. Treagust & Sons is a family run butchers that has been trading for 90 years. It was founded by Harry Hurst Treagust in 1924 and is now owned by Richard (Great-grandson). Richard together with son Benjamin, wife Suzanne , cousin Raymond Treagust and John Pugh continue to maintain Treagust’s reputation of providing top quality goods and service.
To mark this 90th year on the High Street, son Benjamin has expanded the range of sausages available – HARRY’S Posh Pork Sausages “Flavours For All Seasons.” So check out the blackboards for this weeks special!’
Becky is often used as a consultant for charitable organisations setting up events material on line. One of her useful messages is the advice not to mix fonts. Perhaps those responsible for the recently new image of Mungo Brooks Emporium could have used her services.
In this second picture Jackie has joined Ian and me in the reflections.
Those readers capable of deciphering mirror writing will know that the public library is situated in Nile Street.
A Victorian Chapel to St Peter,
a cinema, and a theatre are all previous incarnations of the excellent Greenhouse Café where we enjoyed our lunch. It will come as no surprise that my choice was the all day big breakfast.
Becky had asked a gentleman leading a rather large animal what it was. ‘It’s a dog’ he replied. This caused great hilarity. He wasn’t sure of the breed because it belonged to his sister. Becky identifies it as an American bulldog. A little later we observed it being stuffed in a boot.
We walked past The Coal Exchange pub on the way down South Street to the harbour.
The tiles outside provided a tasteful backdrop to the brightly coloured bell attached to the bicycle leaning against the wall.
At the bottom of the Flintstones Tea Rooms was doing very well;
a small sailing vessel was being laid to rest against the harbour wall.
We spent a short time in the Victorian St James’s church, with its splendid brass eagle lectern,
its typical stained glass of the period,
and its modern communion table.
Back at home this evening Jackie and I dined on pizza and salad.
