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22 Jun
This is the view in the other direction from yesterday’s photo. This is Hessle‘s All Saints Church with its impressive spire. Until the bridge was built it was probably the tallest structure round here. As we’re on our way to record rainfall for June this picture is clearly not a recent one; no more blue skies and fluffy clouds just rain and more rain. Did I mention a drought back in April?

It’s that bridge again

21 Jun
At over 510 feet in height the Humber Bridge does tend to peek into view now and then. At the beginning of April the toll on the bridge was halved to £1.50 and recent reports suggest that traffic on the bridge increased by 20,000 in the first month, which comes as no surprise to anyone really.

Fenced in

14 Nov
City Daily Photo’s theme this month was fences and I wish now that I had remembered this shot that I took in June last year; still better late than never. This footbridge carries you over a main rail line and Clive Sullivan Way, actually the A63. Clive Sullivan was a famous rugby league player who played for both Hull teams and died at the age of 42.

Cliff Mill, Hessle

12 Sep

Close to the Humber Bridge stands this old mill which was built, so the web tells me, in 1806. In case you were wondering that small change in height in the foreground counts as a cliff in these parts.

Hassle to Hessle

19 Jun

So, on a whim, to Hessle, to see the shops and take a few piccies of the Humber Bridge. Hopped on the 105 bus to town, just in time to catch the 66 to Hessle. Big mistake. This “bus” was clearly mechanically spavined. Every turn, acceleration; stop, every damned inch of the road seemed to insult it’s weakened frame and cause jolts and discomfort to the paying passengers. The roads of Hull are apparently not paved with gold or any other substance but consist of holes with other holes within; designed to catch the wary and unwary alike. The route of this bus is such that it includes as many twists and turns as it is possible to make so that, after 20 minutes, we were actually going past the bus station from whence we had departed. And on and on it went, grinding it’s relentless way. Out of town the design of roads is to lay blocks of concrete, say ten yards long; then tarmac over these blocks. At every joint the tarmac wears out leaving a gap that this, seemingly unsprung, cart passed over with a sickening crunch. 
After 45 minutes of this we arrived having gone just over 7 miles at just under 10 mph. I think it may have been quicker to walk.