Ceres

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In my old 1920s Blue Guide to Scotland (which is actually a third edition and so dates to 1949, but let's  not nit-pick) Ceres is described as 'a tiny decayed town.' A rather sad description, I think you will agree, but the thing I like about the Blue Guides is their accuracy. Not for them some flowery language which said in a long meandering sort of way not very much at all. No, they gave it just as it was, straight and to the point, which is a philosophy that I like to think I myself follow. As such I have no reason to believe that Ceres at that time was anything other than somewhat decayed, and perhaps not worthy of much of a visit, unless one's interest in life was centred around things that were falling apart.
Since then, Ceres has managed to arrest that decay, and is a nice little place. There's not a great deal to it, but what there is is very old and charming. It is a lazy and exceedingly attractive village full of character. The tiny area around the ancient humpback bridge known as 'Bishop's Bridge' oozes history, with its worn cobbles and crumbling stone and a brook that babbles and bubbles contentedly. They still have the town jougs in situ, fixed to the wall of the old Baron's Court, complete with their iron collar and chain and padlock. And just around the corner is a most peculiar seventeenth century stone statue of a past provost. It looks every bit like the figure from a giant Toby-jug, and one can only hope that it was not meant to be an exact likeness of the person it is meant to represent.