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Tony Chico

of

Scarborough, England, UK

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Fair Scarborough

by

Tony Chico


·Scarborough, fair Scarborough, tha's all reet, Jewel of Yorkshire, sea-side retreat.
Bordered by surf and fringed with moor, This is the place that I really adore.
I must go away, but I always come back, just like a yacht on a homeward tack.
Come walk with me thro' this magical place, Gentle Spa town of Victorian Grace.

·Oh what fun! And oh what a lark, feeding the ducks in Peasholm Park.
Climbing the cliffs, watching the waves, rooting around in Hairy Bob's Cave.
Enjoying the sun, kicking up sand, past the Corner and Kinderland.
Meander through gardens and over the hills, all the way down to Scalby Mills.

·Smelling the brine, tasting fresh air, feeling the wind a-ruffling your hair.
Hearing the water lapping away, no big waves are crashing today.
Up on the hill, the Castle stands, besieged by men from foreign lands.
Invasion now is by tourists and trippers, Mums and Dads, and excitable nippers.

·Hustling and bustling along the front, turning sand into castles, as is their wont.
Riding on donkeys, dodging the tide, peer into pools for the crabs inside.
Corrigan's, Marshall's, Jaconelli, amusing the senses , pleasing the belly.
Watching the scene from the Harbour Bar, yachts and boats coming from near and far.

·Climb the steep streets and into the town, it's hard going up but it's easier down.
Must look at the Castle, ruined but grand, up at the top here's historical land.
St Peter's, St Mary's, are rather fine churches, sheltering under the Castle's lurches.
Methodist Queen St is but one more, standing foursquare next to Boyes's Store.

·Eastborough, Westborough, Aberdeen Walk, people keep stopping and having a talk.
St Nicholas St and the Royal Hotel, where Winnie Churchill ssslept rather well.
The Grand is, well grand, massive and square, of it's great beauty the world is aware.
Coffee in Bonnet's, or Cafe Jardin, such friendly folk in the shop Sydenham.

·If we were now to continue our walk, up to the station, trains from York.
Posters proclaiming an Ayckbourn play at Stephen Joseph, theatre for today.
Or go the Crescent, trim and neat, sit on the green nursing our feet.
Watch for the squirrels, who'll steal our food. Grey little devils, exceedingly rude.

·What shall we do now, there's still lots to see. Millennium complex? Or shall we have tea?
Go to the Spa and promenade like Edwardian people in a charade?
We might rent a boat with rod and a line and pull fat fish from the foaming brine.
Go and have fun on the Luna Park rides, or sit mesmerised by the sea and the tides.

·The view is so fine up on Oliver's Mount, I've seen it more often than I can count.
There's Whitby and Filey, Driffield and Brid, all lovely places for adult or kid.
We could go further, Sandsend or Staithes, where people just potter, frolic and bathe.
There's so much to see, and so much to do, why folk go abroad, I just haven't a clue.

·Fair Scarborough's the place for both young and old, Jewel of Yorkshire, heart of pure gold.
Children are safe from the urban menace. Cricket and Football, and Who's for Tennis?
Simple pleasures, meaning no harm - I'm just a sucker for Scarborough's charm.
Bury me here, but not till I'm dead! There's lots of joyous living ahead.