After some time in Granny mode, it was off to the industrial north for the job I must not mention. We arrived from the east, having detoured via Cambridge, so approached through Longendale – a much better route than our usual crawl up the M6. Safely settled in to our motel, we descended for food. Who decided that many decibels loud rap ‘music’ was a suitable accompaniment for food? Add to that the numerous violently flashing fruit machines and I felt the need to lie in a darkened room.

We are travelling with our old and trusty Sat-Nav (the new one is irrevocably attached to another vehicle), that would be an old and defunct Sat-Nav, which wimpered into inactivity on our way to the city centre. Fortunately we did have some idea where we were heading and I emerged unscathed and without requiring detours. Other incidents relating to our foray north include being attacked by the contents of a yoghurt pot, whilst attempting to liberate my breakfast. Then we went in search of a Harvester (or indeed anywhere to eat in relative peace and calm). Inevitably, the now recovered Sat-Nav does not recognise the road name, ‘Arena Approach’. Using what is left of my initiative, I spot a sign to a Stadium and think that this may be the arena that we need to approach. It turns out that this was, for once, a good move – hurrah!

Our trip also incorporated a photo shoot. Now before you comment that we are hardly model potential, we were responding to a request for those who don period costume to take part in a photography project. You can read all about our brilliant time with the lovely Jo Rutherford on Swords and Spindles’ blog page but here I must mention the chair. After my mum died, precious heirlooms were divided between my daughters and myself. There has been a certain amount of reassignment of some of these possessions since then and I had just re-taken possession of a folding carpet chair that belonged to my great-grandmother. This was in the boot, along with sword and buff coat, when we arrived at the photographers. Jo spotted this and suggested that we incorporate it in some of the shots. There was something wonderful about sitting in seventeenth century costume, on a chair that was the favourite of an ancestor, in order to have my picture taken. Jo also took a very evocative picture of the empty chair. I was able to send her a picture of the chair’s owner and even a very blurry picture of great-granny sitting in said chair.

Nope, I still haven’t forgotten that I promised to report back about bringing history to the next generation – patience is a virtue and all that.