Ashington used to be a very depressing place. At one time the narrow footpaths between the back to back mining rows were full of dog cr@p and litter, not to mention the permanent smell of urine from drunks who staggered home from the many working men’s clubs that plagued the town. Plucking Banjos When the […]
Read More… from A Depressing Lifetime in Ashington, Northumberland
