Wandering off topic (which I think we did around post 3) Thirsk you say. I have very fond memories of the Black Bull, 47 Sowerby Road, the Beck and the White Horse of Kilburn. Funny how I can remember the Black Bull, but not the name of the young lady that made it so memorable in the first place. The good old days when you didn't need 3 different forms of ID to buy a pint of John Smiths as a 16 year old.
Hanging out at the clock in the market square looking totally cool in my Brutus jeans and Ben Sherman. Nan lived there, hence the many holidays before I was old enough to wander the hallowed grounds of Manchester airport looking for last minute flight deals to somewhere exotic like Benidorm or Corfu.
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