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A lone figure stands on the white concourse at Hull’s Paragon railway station.
Stern, bespectacled, and holding a book, the life-size statue depicts Philip Larkin, who lived and worked in Humberside from 1955 until his death in 1985.
All they have over there is the thick Ribena cordial and she likes Robinson’s apple and blackcurrant.
I remember going round the shops and thinking, what are we going to do?
The mixture of shame attached with sex and my sexuality it engendered, and the anxiety of anyone finding out took a while for me to deconstruct. My parents still don’t know to this day (nor do I hope, will they ever). In fact, I never really made that much (I wasn’t very good), maybe £200 in total. I kept on doing it into my first year at university but began fazing it out.
For a very long time, I was terrified they would find out. This was partly due to becoming more confident in my sexuality I guess, or maybe I was just distracted by my new life here.
Locals claim it’s the country’s largest parish church.
The trail starts at the hotel, the setting of the poem “Friday Night in the Royal Station Hotel”, then heads into Hull Old Town via the City Hall and Maritime Museum, grand Victorian buildings on Queen Victoria Square.
The trail also provides an overview of Hull’s compact, historic core.
A nice firm carrot had a pleasing aspect, but there was a ripe banana that burst a bit too early. I’m not the most physically fit person so I quickly learnt the best lights to model in, my best angles, what moves enticed people.
At first I had a few dissatisfied customers, but I quickly got the hang of it…and well, even when I didn’t, they’d already paid. I never paid for the service myself but you could watch some videos for free where people would broadcast themselves.