Paraphrasing Joni Mitchell for my song link for this last post in February. Not sure if I'll keep the song lyric links going, but I have enjoyed the way they appeared so effortlessly. Bakewell is a tourist town now - far more so than when I moved here in 1993. It's all year round, though it all looks a bit miserable in bad weather, and there are too many cafes and outdoor clothing shops all selling the same thing. The charity shops are good though. The ducks, geese and seagulls by the river can get you down too - all that bird shit everywhere.
No cinema, but there is a film society. No theatre, but there is a stage in the Town Hall and a Youth Theatre. No art gallery, but there is an independent museum. The best book and music shop you could wish for anywhere - Bakewell Books.
Houses are expensive, schools are good, the countryside is lovely, job prospects are limited, the public transport is limited too, though there is a National Express bus to and from London which passes through daily - maybe a relic of coaching days - it certainly takes hours to get there.Chatsworth House and Haddon Hall are on the doorstep. Good Farmers' Market once a month, weekly stall market, well dressings, carnival, Bakewell Show, Bakewell puddings (not tarts).
I'm ready for a change, I have never lived in the same place, let alone the same house, for so long, but at the moment friends, family and work keep me here - the usual story - and whilst I imagine a life elsewhere it's not going to happen for a few years.
There needs to be a bit more water under Bakewell Bridge. It's a young families/retirement town and I have a horrible feeling I'm going to move seamlessly from one to the other once my youngest leaves home.
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