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Grimsby 5/6/01

Alright, not Spain.... not exactly...... it didn't quite work out that way because, well..... never underestimate the power of football.

How I persuaded Hiromi to accept Cleethorpes (she pronounces it "creethorpes", the important thing about which at the moment is that it is conveniently adjacent to Grimsby Town FC where Fulham are playing their last match of this triumphant season) as a substitute for Malaga (actually pronounced "Malaga") only those who try to combine married life or other partnerships with footballaholism will know. But it worked. She even thought it was at least partly her idea. So now I am here watching the Monkees on TV (I was in that 'younger brother' generation that preferred the Monkees to the Beatles) in a creethorpe b&b and waiting for tomorrow. It's perfect. So far.

Then the bit you recognise. Hotel room, sleep, miss breakfast ..... but it was a lovely morning, taking Hiromi to the edge of the deep brown sea that rolls up on the beaches there. There were a few "poor people"'s and "do they shoot tourists?" in amongst the exclamations as we walked beside the grey and mud striped water; it is hiding its fish from the windy fishermen with licences who sit there trying to get their money's worth. Grimsby. Where they listen to Led Zeppelin.

It did slightly stop being perfect when Fulham lost 1-0.....

And then home through the Grim(sb)y streets striped brown and grey like the sea. But this is NOT a place where the sun doesn't shine. Oh no. Solar power is here in Grimsby too. Sort of .....

— Matthew