Trip to Morecambe

One of the good things about Lancaster is that we are only three miles from the sea.

One of the bad things is that the nearest seaside is Morecambe.

Face the sea on a sunsetty evening and Morecambe Bay is absolutely stunning.

Face the other way and you will encounter social deprivation at its worst - or finest. Jim and I once witnessed an overweight, bearded, middle-aged woman showing her fanny to a drunk, homeless guy in the fish and chip shop queue.

The neighbour-to-be I met the other night is doing a PhD on the social fluctuations of Morecambe from 1850 to the present day, in fact.

Anyway, today I went to Morecambe to have coffee with an Australian mother I met in the street after a get-to-know-you day at Lola's new school in the summer. She has deliberately chosen to live in Morecambe rather than Lancaster, she says, because she is "fed up of all that middle-class stuff". You can also get an ex 10-bedroom guest house with sea views for about £150K. Quite a pull.

Right now though, the leap from Witney to Lancaster is enough for me.