Cities-Kingston-Upon-Hull-The Return-Day 1, Part 1.

Back in 2017, Sarah and I visited Hull. It had UK City of Culture status, promised big things and delivered, has a William Mitchell mural and it did us very proud.

As we like 8 hour day trips with sightseeing then retiring to our dormitories to watch evening regional TV we decided to revisit the San Francisco of the north but this time go to the parts our eyes hadn't before seen and almost a year to the day since our last visit.

As David, my beautiful car dumped me and then died our travel arrangements were to be the train trip of a lifetime. The trainline website promised we would stop in exotic places like Stalybridge, Leeds and Brough. I wanted to see them, to become the train trip and eat pocket snacks with wonder and awe.

With our tickets booked and the WhatsApp hotline in meltdown we decided to live at Lenny's again as he was good to us last time and his breakfast was pleasing to our palettes.

What we didn’t plan for was 72ft of snow being dropped the day before embarkation with the arrival of the aptly named Storm Emma. Lots of fretting and furious train checks were completed on the hour every hour until we decided to just turn up and see.

The train to Piccadilly was nice and trouble free. I saw three flakes of snow and a lady being very unwell into a carrier bag. Arriving at Piccadilly the queue for the lift was four hours long and the state of my health after 48 hours of snow watch just needed me to be off the platform and into the light. My suitcase which was packed for three weeks not 2 nights became an immediate burden. A nice kind gentleman helped me up half the stairs but then he had to leave as I think he tore himself.

The slippery escalator into the light nearly ended my trip and I made conversation with a nice lady about shoelaces and how slippery the escalator was.

Finally Sarah and I synced with tea and mini pastries. We made our way to the platform with sweaty palms and boarded our magical train to Hull.

Glossing over the Narnia fog landscape which made us feel sick, I was pleased to have packed lots of stuff in case we got stuck. I will also gloss over the seating situation and the lengths some people will go to get THE seat that THEY booked even though all booked seats were now void due to the obscene Emma weather. (I will also gloss over the watching of somebody eating crisps and licking every finger even though only two fingers were used to eat the crisps.)

Stalybridge was white and full of snow. Leeds was white and full of snow. Brough was white and full of snow. Feeling let down about the lack of views, without warning a fog obscured Humber bridge passed over us and we knew that we were nearly home.

Straight off the train and into the Chinese buffet was the order of service. There are no photographs of this just silent memories of floating around a prawn toast filled cabinet and then the very terrible pains in our tummy's as we made the mistake of four buffet plates plus sides in excitement.

Waddling outside into the cold Emma air we woke up slightly. Lenny was calling us as he promised tea in tiny cups, big beds and regional TV.

The Three Ships Mural by Alan Boyson. Last time we saw it, it was in a funny world of 'will it or won't it' be saved but it looks like it now will be and this is very pleasing for my blood pressure.