Plymouth Hoe

Plymouth Hoe seafront, which has taken a terrible battering recently.

I lived in Plymouth until I was 21; I don't think I appreciated it. I thought the world ended at Bristol, I suspect this view was tainted by the fact the Bay City Rollers never came to the city.... Anyway, I spent a lot of time on The Barbican, but probably didn't see it for the bohemian and quirky place it is. I went to many beaches but didn't realise how utterly beautiful they were. The Hoe was just The Hoe - I thought it lacked sand and a pier and so wasn't a proper seafront. Dartmoor was just somewhere to go for a drive on a Sunday night, to paddle in a stream or climb a hill and look at ponies. It was perfectly normal for ice-cream to come with a dollop of clotted cream, and a visit to Ivor Dewdney's pasty shop was commonplace.

I'll throw in that a bus ride to see my nan and grandad was something I could do whenever I wanted - I suspect I didn't do it enough.

I guess you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

Now I live a very long way from the sea; Huddersfield is my children's home, I have lived very happily there for 25 years, but Plymouth is still my home.

Back up north tomorrow, via the kennels to collect the missing family member.