Tim Shannon finds plenty to enjoy in our new “she’ll be right” triangle. By Tim Shannon
IT’S a long time since I first heard the name “The Triangle” and I tried to see how it described the rather odd place that joined the Cowes foreshore to its tired jetty. I recall an image of a sloping patch of unkempt bitumen which was a mixture of road, car park, foot path, and the spot for an occasional open air market with tilting stalls. It had no regular shape, but perhaps the space it filled between an assortment of walls, bollards, and a war memorial was more like a triangle than anything else, a sort of a “she’ll be right mate” triangle.
IT’S a long time since I first heard the name “The Triangle” and I tried to see how it described the rather odd place that joined the Cowes foreshore to its tired jetty. I recall an image of a sloping patch of unkempt bitumen which was a mixture of road, car park, foot path, and the spot for an occasional open air market with tilting stalls. It had no regular shape, but perhaps the space it filled between an assortment of walls, bollards, and a war memorial was more like a triangle than anything else, a sort of a “she’ll be right mate” triangle.
