Alleys for fishermen and harbour girls. The greyness creates a completely different light here and sounds from the distance travel through silence to arrive. I wandered along the street behind the waterfront, back of houses that line it, narrow alleys and paths, some unchanged for decades, others merely retaining the route while on both sides nothing from history remains.
Squeezegut Alley I stumbled into from the wrong, unmarked direction. It looked like an interesting gap between two buildings, worn enough to not merely be the disused path to empty an outhouse by. I found myself later approaching it from the other direction, off the high street and discovered what along the beach feels far east from town, from the other end is near the centre of the main road.
More wandering through alleys and other streets, some hours spent in a bookshop, acquiring Tipping the Velvet for a couple of pounds, more hours in a café reading most of Lighthousekeeping until deciding to finish daylight with another stroll along Tankerton beach. Fresh mussels with my Hobo for dinner.
