Bugger Bognor

It’s the winter solstice at Polbrook Gurney Colliery, though this year it’s actually 3.27am tomorrow in the UK, but we won’t let that spoil the yarn for the sake of a few hours. 

It’s another damp dull morning as Ted prepares to change the point. He’s from Newcastle by the way, that’s why he’s not wearing a coat. Nobody in the North East wears a coat because they’ve not yet been invented, and anyway, they’re tough up there. It’s the Viking blood by all accounts. 

Colin and Deliberation Dave over in the distance are discussing the fact that today is the shortest day (almost), and that from now on the nights will be getting shorter. But Dave is still apprehensive as to whether the days will ever get longer, for they didn’t last year. 

Ted might to travel to Bognor after Christmas for a short break at Butlins, for it’s apparently quite nice this time of year, but then mutters “bugger Bognor, I’ll go to Saltburn on the Sea, money saved on a poxey namby pamby coat worn only by southerners can be spent on brown ale instead”. 

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