I hope you enjoyed the wrestling last week. It sparked off a major nostalgia fest for me: I spent four aimless, slightly drunken hours watching old British wrestling bouts on YouTube. I must have watched more wrestling in the old days than I thought: I knew all the fighters. There was Dave ‘Fit’ Finlay, and his wife and second Princess Paula; Les Kellett, who was a great comic, as well as a good wrestler, Kendo Nagasaki, who hated being unmasked and could allegedly hypnotise his opponents; and clean living Johnny Saint, who was an amazing athlete.
It brought home to me that living in the 1960’s and 70’s were far less complicated than living nowadays. Who’s to say that we’re better off now? I’m not sure the ‘digital age’ does us as many favours as we think it does.
All this crazy nostalgia stands me in good stead for the family history work I’m doing. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve dived deeply into my family’s past: there’s something extremely satisfying in unearthing long-lost relatives. Unless we’re high-born, very successful, or notorious, the chances are we’ll end up leaving few traces of who we are. I think that’s tragic, because we’ve all go a story to tell, and have the right to be heard.
Anyway, that’s enough of the profound stuff for the moment. Last week Liz and I, (not forgetting Sally the dog), went to stay in a tiny cottage at Robin Hood’s Bay for a few days. This week’s photo-essay features pictures of the bay. It was all very waved-tossed and dramatic, but I hope you like the pictures..