If it's England, it must be cricket

So here we are at Riverdale Hall, just outside Bellingham on the banks of the North Tyne. A slightly odd place. Sounds very grand and it probably was at some time but now it's a little down at heel: just a wee bit too scuffed, chipped and dated. The cottage/apartment we've rented for the week is reminiscent of the type of holiday cottage that you see in the Highlands where you suspect that some elderly relative has died, leaving their house to a daughter who likes to use it herself for a few weeks a year and might even retire there sometime but for now it's earning a few bob without needing any major investment. But if any money is getting spent, it's at Ikea.

Anyway, we didn't get here until about five so it's all been just settling in and putting things away. Had a wee wander around the grounds and found the hotel's cricket pitch with its very home made score board.

It also has a fine collection of rusting old tractors and the remains of some mattresses that it looks like the management decided to set fire to rather than pay the landfill costs. So, plenty emergency photos to take.