Enough heavy stuff let me tell you about the graffiti grannies. The pier at Saltburn is a wonderful walk in the brisk, bracing air. It was windy. Probably the reason there is now a wind farm just off the coast standing in the North Sea. We walked its 1500 feet out into the ocean but had to stop part way along. Sitting on the guard rail along the pier we discovered works of knitting. You can’t believe it I am sure but it is true. Knitted onto the tubular steel work we discovered these amazing works. They are wonderfully creative and perfectly executed but there was no notice to explain the craft.
We stopped a couple of locals walking past and asked what it was all about. We expected it to be a celebration of the life of some wonderfully important local hero. Maybe the world knitting champion came from round these parts.
No!
We stopped a couple of locals walking past and asked what it was all about. We expected it to be a celebration of the life of some wonderfully important local hero. Maybe the world knitting champion came from round these parts.
No!
These knitting creations just appeared over night. No one has claimed responsibility. In the night some mysterious knitting circle turn up with perfectly crafted goods and sew them onto the railings. Each piece has a trailing portion that wraps around the pipe work and the works are sewn onto the rail.
No one damages them.
No one cuts them off and steals them.
It has been going on for quite a while.
Eventually they lose their colour and wear away. Then another batch appears.
We were lucky to see them at their newest. Each one was clean and crisp and beautifully in shape. They ran on down the railings for 200 meters I guess. I could have photographed each one. They were glorious.
Our guides insist than no one knows anything about it. The newspaper has reported on it and still there is no claim of ownership.
We stood and took pictures and grinned at them all till a family walked by, little boy with them. He was looking at them like we were. Suddenly he burst into laughter.
“Dad, Dad, a house with hands!!!”
I loved that - he totally accepted knitting sewn onto the pier, but a house with hands was just too much for him.
No one damages them.
No one cuts them off and steals them.
It has been going on for quite a while.
Eventually they lose their colour and wear away. Then another batch appears.
We were lucky to see them at their newest. Each one was clean and crisp and beautifully in shape. They ran on down the railings for 200 meters I guess. I could have photographed each one. They were glorious.
Our guides insist than no one knows anything about it. The newspaper has reported on it and still there is no claim of ownership.
We stood and took pictures and grinned at them all till a family walked by, little boy with them. He was looking at them like we were. Suddenly he burst into laughter.
“Dad, Dad, a house with hands!!!”
I loved that - he totally accepted knitting sewn onto the pier, but a house with hands was just too much for him.
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