Ziggy and I woke up to a beautiful morning and set off down Longley Lane towards one of our favourite ginnels at the bottom of Elmfield Avenue. Like all dog lovers, we do love a good ginnel!
Just after the ginnel lurks a stone freak of massive proportions. A true beast of the garden. When the mornings get darker and colder, the chilling stare of this chap will surely put the willies up me on a regular basis. Here he is peering through the long grass:
A truly gruesome man in his blood red shorts. I’m sure he keeps the intruders away and the slugs at bay.
I wandered along as Ziggy scuttled, doing his customary, morning urine dance and we turned for the village. Northenden is well endowed in the Takeaway department. It also has one too many defunct Takeaway units too, with their neon signs missing letters and letter boxes crammed with junk mail. A sign of a Takeaway from yesteryear hovers overhead.
I wonder what Cinders Grill used to turn out? Anything special apart from the usual Kebabs, Pizzas and Burgers? Judging by the sign, probably not. This led me to thoughts of favourite all time Takeaways that are sadly no longer with us. Greasy, late night loved ones who dripped through our abdomens and slipped away. One night stands with Donner and her frilly, sodden, paper frock. My personal favourites were Monsoon’s on Oxford Road. Everyone claimed it was rotten, but my tin-lined belly was never threatened. I once had three donner kebabs from Monsoons’ in one 24 hour period. Halcyon days. Shan’s in Fallowfield, another lost loved one. Mr Shan was a lovely bloke and the pissed up kebab fans were allowed to line the walls of his shop with Basquiat-esque scrawls of giant, people-eating, burger buns.
On the home stretch, I had promised to take Ziggy past one of his favourite Northenden buildings; The Haunted House of Royal Green Road.
The house, as far as I can tell, is still inhabited as the car that parks on the drive regularly moves, so someone must be visiting. With it’s smashed front bedroom window, this place really could do with a visit from Laurence Llewelyn Bowen. Cripes the ghosts must be cold in the winter in that bedroom. Here is a picture of Ziggy in front of the house shaking in his paws.