I
pause at Gynn Square [I vaguely remember a drunken charity bed-push
here when I was at school] then carry on past the castle like
Norbreck Hotel to Rossall where I was at boarding school aged 13 to
17. Looking at it again makes me shudder.
I
hasten on to Fleetwood, where a nice old lady who kept coal in her
sprouts was subjected to “community care” from me and a friend
when I was at school; it was our escape from playing soldiers in the
cadets. I take the foot ferry across the Wyre to Knott End. There are
two other groups of cyclists so I have a good chat with them.
 |
| The Sea Front at Rossall |
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