Day Out In Stroke City

Yesterday Zoe and I went on a trip to Derry. We went on a train that smelled of farts. In Derry we walked the walls, took in some history and visited some shops. There are three shops in Derry that are well worth every penny of the train fare - even if you just go in to look.


I really like a proper old-fashioned book shop and Foyle Books is just that. I complimented the proprietor on the delightfulness of his shop and he said,

That's a nice compliment all the way from Scotland!

It's Ballymena actually but I know what you mean.

He was a Surn Ironer himself so I excused the mistake. Once in London an African stopped to ask me directions. I said I couldn't help him as I was from Ireland myself. He said,

Oh what part of Ireland are you from? Dublin or Glasgow?

Another interesting shop, and forgive me - for in my hurry to get inside and look around I didn't note the name, was devoted to quilts and quilting. In my youth I was keen on patchwork and would have thought I was in heaven if I'd had access to such glories. But a part of me thought it was too easy to have such awesome fabrics to hand. I trawled jumble sales and recycled garments to make my quilts.


But by far the best shop was this one.


And here are some of the the treasures to be found within.

I fear I must have lived among the Protestants too long for I only recognised Mother Teresa. Does anyone recognise any of her heavenly chums?