They say you can take the man out of Brighouse, but not Brighouse out of the man.
I say this is true. Having been a very proud resident of this great little Northern market town for most of my life, I am now residing in Sydney, Australia. And what I would do for a portion of fish and chips from the Dolphin (whoops, must remember it’s now Blakeley’s). A cup of tea and a slice or two of well buttered bread on the side. Or maybe one of Brayshaw’s famous pork pies. Taken home and served us with a portion of real mushy peas. Or perhaps even a slice of warm apple pie from the Merry England, making use of their newly acquired wi-fi to write my latest blog. Finish off the day with a couple of economically priced pints in the Richard Oastler Wetherspoons pub. I think even Brook’s restaurant is economically priced compared to Sydney.
You see, it is only when you become an expat that you realize just how much you miss these little creature comforts from home. Distance makes the heart grow fonder? It certainly does something, if I am coming over all misty eyed for “Briggus”. Yes, Sydney has a world class dining scene. One to rival the gastronomic capitals of London and Paris. But you try and find a good pork pie. Or a portion of chips that even slightly resemble the best that either Blakeley’s, or the Golden Hind serve up in yesterday's Brighouse Echo without fanfare. Good luck is all I say.
Having left Brighouse only as recently as July this year, I know that these things will take some adjusting to. The delights of Brighouse may fade and become just a memory. Those balmy (really?) evenings meandering along the canal, feeding the ducks. That said, it seems I'm not alone with a fondness for Brighouse. It even has it’s own love song. Thanks to a good friend for recently pointing me in the direction of Roger Davies singing “Brighouse on a Saturday night” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Al5YWeBpDw
In the meantime, if anybody wants to send me a few pork pies…