August 2023 – Where is Phil now?

In the Pines

Wednesday 23 August 2023 – Somewhere outside York.

This was the final of the four ‘English regions’ journeys that I’ve made in the past month. I’ve visited the South West, the South East, the North West and now I’m in the North East, though I’m not entirely sure where I am.

I’m attending a three day work training course at the Emergency Planning College. All I know is the facility is outside, and I think to the North, of York. I and 15 colleagues were picked up by a mini-bus from York station on Monday morning and driven 30 minutes into the countryside to the college. It’s not a secret location (anymore, it may have been during and immediately after WW2), but as we aren’t leaving the place till we go home so I never bothered to find it on the map. This is unusual admittedly, but I’ve been busy and still have more away days coming. To be quite honest my anticipation for a holiday in Ghent with friends next week is significantly higher than the anticipation I had for this work trip!

I won’t go into the detail on the learning part of the three days, it wasn’t secret government stuff, but it also wasn’t interesting enough to share. It was ‘work’ interesting and I learned a bit and enjoyed myself, especially the meals and the on-site bar. I ate a lot. The college buildings are part of a vast site, seemingly in the middle of nowhere and are comprised of an modern accommodation block and a lovely old manor house where we ate and a large modern school built out of sight on the back of the house.

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The grounds were used during the last war to train fire wardens, supposedly, and there were a few buildings that were knocked down quite years ago that were used for that training. I found two old bunkers on a walk and guess they were used to store flammable or explosive material, the doors were 4 inches thick. They were the only two buildings left standing amongst the trees. I was (and still am) wondering if they led to secret tunnels under the forest to the manor house.

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At the end of the first day I took a walk into the trees, I didn’t consult the loosely drawn map before I left so just stuck to clear paths; there is quite a section of forest to roam in, though I’m sure you could learn it all in a couple of walks, if you paid attention to the detail. The most serious risk for off-piste roaming would be twisting an ankle in an unseen rabbit hole, there are loads of them.

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It was an enjoyable walk, only 30 minutes, but I was on my own with my thoughts and the pine forest which made up most of the environment, was old and twisted and verging on creepy. I wished I had my big camera as there were some good photo opportunities. I’m not sure I could have walked there in dusk, not that I’m superstitious or anything, it felt a touch Grimm. I followed one path that gradually narrowed down to a bracken blocked dead end and I could see how an unpleasant tale could be developed around the head high ferns if the light was appropriate. I’ve never seen confer trees so twisted and bent before, it adds to the eeriness.

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The undergrowth was dense, there was no straying off the trails and into the trees as I usually do in Epping Forest, unlike Epping nothing much roams here, other than hundreds of rabbits and the occasional deer.

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My favourite photo was the walkway to the accommodation block. I loved the simplicity of the lines and the contrasting colours.

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The course finished mid-Wednesday afternoon and we were bussed to York Station for the journey back to London. The three hours to home seemed to take forever and I was very tired by the time I got in, and it was only 7pm.

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I enjoyed the two nights away, the course was interesting, the food tasty and the in-house bar was cheaper than a London pub; the evenings spent chatting with colleagues I never usually speak to was probably the highlight.

Macclesfield

Saturday 12 August 2023 – Macclesfield.

Other than visiting Norwich in June I haven’t been north of London in a very long time, at least since Covid times, and since Covid times more of the ‘north’ has suffered more than more of the south. Economic and societal differences have grown rather than shrunk, even under the current governments so called ‘Levelling Up’ programme. Public transport is one of those areas negatively affected and this became blindingly apparent as we chose to come back to London on Saturday evening rather than the planned Sunday morning. There were so many cancelled trains on Sunday it wasn’t worth the risk; and this is between Manchester and London, England’s second and first cities. I can’t imagine what it’s like moving around locally, we have all read stories of disrupted journeys and systemic failure of the northern rail system.

According to my blog the last time I was in Macclesfield was November 2014; it didn’t seem that long ago, but time seemingly passes with increasing rapidity the older I get. One of Eleanor’s oldest friends’ lives in Macclesfield, though she is pondering a move to St Leonards. Naturally we are trying to convince her that this is the right thing to do.

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It appears that the new normal for me and train travel is no matter what ‘window’ seat I book, I end up next to a pillar and have a limited view. This is the third time in as many train journeys that this has happened. I’m starting to think I’m now cursed.

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The good thing was the journey north from Euston (now London’s worst station) was on time, it was also very busy and I was sat in the most uncomfortable seat I’ve had on a train for years. As well as limited visibility I had zero leg room and was crammed into my seat. I love train travel, but this journey was one of the worst. I was glad when we arrived and I could stretch my leg on the ten minute walk to where we were staying.

Macclesfield is 20 minutes by train south of central Manchester and was a major silk town until the industry crashed in the 19^th century. A lot of the residences, including the one we are staying in would have had silk weaving rooms on the top floor. The town was incredibly wealthy for many years and this can still be seen in the lovely Victorian buildings that surround the centre.

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We went out an early evening meal (a lovely pizza for me) in an old cinema, which after a long period being left to rot, has recently been converted into a food hall. It’s a really nice place, had a great vibe and some fabulous food choices along with a bar specialising in local beer and another one selling wine. The music wasn’t dire either.

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After eating we took a longer walk back, taking in the deserted town centre. It’s clean and tidy and doesn’t look rundown, thankfully, but a lot of the shops are closed down, as were some of the pubs, and it had an almost deserted feel to it. I fear for the place. It’s an attractive town, and one of those places that is gentrifying and possibly for once that might be a good thing, the town needs some money.

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The highlight was the Ian Curtis mural, which I had wanted to see, and the reason we took the longer walk back to where we were staying. If you don’t know (and you should), Ian Curtis was the singer of late 70s post-punk band Joy Division until he tragically took his own life in 1980. Joy Division remain one of music’s most influential bands.

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Saturday morning we walked to a nearby park for coffee and to let the dog of the house an opportunity to stretch his legs and burn off some energy. The coffee was good and the park was really nice, though it rained a bit as we walked back. The rain wasn’t unexpected, though naturally my rain coat was left lying on the bed.

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Today is the first day of the new premier league football season and Arsenal are playing Nottingham Forest at 12:30. I went to a nearby pub to watch the game and allow Eleanor and her friend time together without me. I’d spotted a pub with football signs outside as we walked from the station last night so I headed there. When I walked in the TV wasn’t on and there was one heavily tattooed bloke leaning on the bar chatting to the bar person. I asked if they were showing the football and when I said it was Arsenal/Forest the bloke said ‘Fuck off, this is a United pub, look around’. I had failed to notice walls covered in Manchester United memorabilia. Doh! Fortunately he was ‘joking’ and the TV was put on, though he left soon after kick off. I noticed a bit later that this is the ‘official’ United supporters pub in Macclesfield. I ended up watching the game, which we won, talking to a Manchester City supporter and having quite a good time. The pub filled up soon after kick off for a baby gender reveal party; with a number of the blokes drifting over to where you could more easily see the game.

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I met Eleanor and her friend in another pub where I had something to eat before we went back to where we are staying. Eleanor checked the time of our train tomorrow (we had an open return) and discovered that a large number of trains were cancelled and those that were running were showing as ‘sold out’. With an open return we had no seat booked and the thought of trying to squeeze on a sold out train that may or may not get cancelled and likely being forced to stand for two hours in a rammed carriage didn’t appeal, so we decided to go home on one of the few trains running tonight. It was busy, but at least we had slightly more comfortable seats and we made it home only slightly late.

It was a shame to have ended the visit so suddenly and I would’ve liked to have had more time to explore Macclesfield with my camera a bit further than I did, but at least that’s a driver for me to visit again.

Yay, St Leonards for the day.

Saturday 5 August 2023 – St Leonards-on-Sea.

I approached this day trip to St Leonards with some trepidation, it’s my first visit since Easter when I handed over the keys to my flat to a tenant who could be there six or twelve months and I was unsure how I was going to feel once I got there. I was hoping that I’d just be mildly ambivalent about the whole St Leonards thing. I didn’t want to love it and regret not being able to live there but neither did I want to feel glad I can’t. I’ve invested some emotional energy on St Leonards and I’d hate to feel it wasted. The pouring rain that was being blown all over the place as I waited for the train back to London did enough to bring me back to reality. I enjoyed the half day, and would have stayed a lot longer if the weather hadn’t been so rubbish.

I was harbouring thoughts of moving back if my tenant moved out after six months. Much as I want to have my flat back, I also can’t really afford it at the moment. Having a tenant means I can pay the mortgage and be able to do nice things like the Ghent trip in a few weeks. We also want to go back to New Zealand for a month in early 2025 and that is going to need some serious saving.

This trip was delayed by a couple of weeks due to the train strikes. I was going down to meet some people from my block to discuss the hugely delayed works on the south side of the building. I wanted to get a list of what needed doing and see it for myself. The business part of the visit was really enjoyable and I had a pleasant hour chatting to my favourite neighbours, and I miss them a lot.

I caught the 9:17 train from London Bridge, the train was mostly empty; it’s not a nice day, definitely more autumn than summer. I enjoyed the journey down. Music and a book over coffee and a muffin to sustain the journey’ regular morning train journey fare.

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I left the train at West St Leonards and trudged up the hill under a solid grey, but thankfully dry sky, the wind pushed me along a bit. The empty and derelict Eversfield Hospital was looking even more derelict than last time I walked past. I so badly want to sneak a look inside….

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I love the building my flat is in; it looks amazing and it ‘feels’ good too. What I don’t like is the cost to maintain it, nor how long it’s taking to get the south side work completed. It was supposed to have all been done by Christmas last year; yet here we are 8 months later with no end in sight and we’ve been battling the maintenance company for weeks. It feels like we have a breakthrough and I was there to make sure everything we knew that needed doing was on the needed to be done list. I remain hopeful it will be over soon and the scaffold can finally come down (again).

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After the meeting at the flat I walked back down to West St Leonards to see a small photography exhibition of the works of Mick Williamson, a Folkestone based photographer who’s been taking daily photos on a film camera since the 70s. He’s taken some fantastic images. What I loved about the exhibition was the use of 10 slide projectors on a central pedestal showing images all around the room, none of them in sync. The clinking and clunking as the carousels moved and the slides we loaded was incredible; I could have listened to that for hours.

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I left the gallery in a gap in the rain and walked along the almost deserted seafront to St Leonards. There were some incredible gusts of wind and there was the odd occasion when I felt I could jump and be borne 50 feet forward. The rain held off for most of the walk but the right side of my trousers got soaked by the wind blow spray.

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I was planning on stopping in at Heist for lunch and a glass of wine but it was really crowded, which I’m taking as a good sign for the health of St Leonards. I’m kinda glad it was busy, I like it there so not being able to find a table meant I won’t miss it. I had lunch at the greasy spoon café instead, it’s perfectly good but not as good as the one in Walthamstow. It too was really busy.

I left there then took a slow stroll up to the station and waited 10 minutes for the train back to London. It was blustery and a bit cold considering it’s still summer. As I said up top it was not a bad way to end the day. I miss St Leonards.

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St Michael’s Mount

Wednesday 26 July 2023 – Marazion, Cornwall.

In the next month I will visit four different English regions. Today, we’re in Cornwall in the South West, this will be followed next week by a day in St Leonards in the South East, then Macclesfield in the North West, finishing with a work training session in York in the North East. This wasn’t planned when the first trips were booked but there is a nice symmetry to it all. To mostly wrap things up I will be visiting Birmingham in the midlands in September for a work related trade show.

We had planned this trip to Marazion a few weeks ago, booking this as one of two short breaks to celebrate Eleanor’s birthday. Due to train and tube strikes we cancelled this holiday a couple of weeks back and postponed a overnight visit to Aldeburgh to mid-October. When the strikes were cancelled we managed to rebook the hotel, thankfully, and here we are in Marazion, a small tourist town three miles east of Penzance. There’s not much in Marazion but the hotel has everything we need and it is directly opposite St Michael’s Mount, somewhere I’ve longed to visit and sitting quietly looking at the view is almost as good as pretty damn good too.

We caught the train down on Monday morning and for a five hour journey, it’s quite enjoyable, particularly from hour two and the far side of Exeter. I took a few photos out of the window as we travelled; the weather at times was ominous.

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The hugely important, inventive and clever civil engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel designed and oversaw the build of a few sections of the railway along the coast including the great Saltash Rail Bridge over the Tamar river and the fabulous coastal section either side of Dawlish.

Unfortunately we were on the rail bridge so I didn’t get a photo of it, though I did get one of the parallel road bridge.

We arrived in Penzance mid-afternoon and took a taxi to the hotel. After checking in we went for a walk through the tiny village of Marazion, with its view dominated by the Mount. I love the Mount and took so many photos from so many different angles; fortunately I’m not sharing all of them. We were slightly bemused by the volume of union flags flying in the village main street, and also the number of cottages that appeared to be short term lets.

We had booked dinner in the hotel, it was a recommended restaurant and the main reason we chose to stay here. We had an early table which turned out to be a good plan as we got shown to a table right by the window and a great view of the Mount. We took a slow meal and spent a lot of time just gazing out the window at the early evening scenery. After eating a very nice meal we had a drink (or two) on the deck until the bar closed. It was a lovely evening admiring the outside, drinking a very nice rose and listening to the classic 70s rock playlist coming from the bar.

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We were either really lucky or had planned brilliantly but Tuesday, our only full day in Cornwall, was sunny and warm and neither the on-off showers of Monday, nor the rain all day of Wednesday had much of an impact on our trip. With the help of the hotel we booked a 10:30 visit to the Mount. Sadly the tide was wrong and we weren’t able to do the hoped-for walk over to the island so had to catch one of the boats that ferry small groups over.

10:30 was the second bookable slot for the day and I’m so glad we went early, the island wasn’t too crowded while we were there and the queue for the boat going over when we arrived back on the mainland was massive. Early seems to be the right time to do things; who knew?

St Michael’s Mount is a tidal island about 100 yards offshore and is fully accessible at low tide. The island was a monastic site, possibly dating back as far as the 9th century. It changed hands numerous times over the next 800 or so years, swapping between different religious orders, royalist and parliamentary leaders over that time. It was sold to the St Aubyn family in 1649 and they’ve owned the island ever since, with family members living in the castle most of that time. Apparently there is a ‘secret’ underground railway from Marazion to the island, and I wish I knew that before we visited as I would have looked for both entrances.

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The way up to the castle is steep and cobbled and not for someone in stilettos; we saw a woman heading that way in them as we walked back to the hotel.

We weren’t overly excited about the castle, it was OK, but as Eleanor said once you’ve seen a few lived in castles you’ve pretty much seen them all, there was nothing special about the castle itself. Great location and it has great views, but it’s a bit so-so inside. I can’t believe I managed to get all those photos with no people in them.

The gardens however…

Wow, I loved them. I’m not a garden person normally but this really was something special. The gardens are terraced up the side of the mount towards the bottom of the castle and the unique micro-climate here they are able to grow a mix of plants we don’t see elsewhere in outdoor English gardens with strong representation with various types of agave and aloes mixed in with more traditional flowering plants. This is not a traditional manor house garden and all the better for it too.

It was hot by the time we left so we stopped for a cold drink and snack in the café on the island before heading back to the mainland on the boat and a brief rest before heading out again for adventure two for the day.

Friends of our who are familiar with the area recommend Treemenheere Sculpture Gardens which were about halfway to Penzance and just inland from the coast. We asked about the gardens in the hotel and they were quite surprised when we said we would walk, and it wasn’t even 40 minutes from the hotel. I guess like most rural communities, this is a car town. I led the way. I won’t say it was disastrous, but Eleanor didn’t enjoy it very much, particularly the dashing across a busy A road motorway. In my favour I was following the fastest suggested walking route on Google Maps and the dash across the A road was at a designated crossing point. I think Eleanor was more annoyed at the overgrown narrow path surrounded by bramble and nettle and then the walk alongside a farmer’s corn field, than the road dash. Either way we walked back a different, albeit slightly longer way that included a road bridge rather than a dash across a busy road.

The gardens were worth it though. We had a very nice lunch and then explored the gardens; there was not a huge amount of sculpture for a sculpture garden.

The gardens themselves were not traditionally pretty, nor fancy and ornamental; there were a lot of shrubs and trees, lots more cacti and the types of thing that grow in the warm, which Cornwall certainly is compared to other parts of the UK. It was very subtropical and I was surprised to see a load of punga trees, a tree fern I’ve not seen in England before, but are everywhere in New Zealand. It almost felt like a walk in Auckland’s Waitakere Ranges. We really enjoyed it and it brought back some happy New Zealand memories.

We spent the evening around the hotel again, sitting outside and hoping for a spectacular sunset which never really came, though there was early promise. It was lovely sitting outside and looking over the Mount. For me, these are the moments that make a holiday. Just sitting quietly, hanging out with Eleanor and enjoying a lovely view.

As predicted, Wednesday arrived under a blanket of low cloud and rain, it was a good day to be heading back to London. I must admit the mount looks great under those low clouds.

We lurked around the hotel after a long breakfast and took a taxi to the station in Penzance at check out time. We were still very early so went for a walk in the rain; lugging our bags with us as there is no left locker storage at the station. Penzance is probably a prettier town if the rain isn’t falling.

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Our journey home was frustrated with signal failure and a very busy train. We were hoping to get a snack and a drink on the five, which turned into a six hour, journey to Paddington, but with only a food cart and a very full train we didn’t get served for four and half hours and there was little left. As well as getting a little hangry we did get a partial refund for the delay which partly made up for it. I managed to snatch a photo of the Brunel’s magnificent Saltash Rail Bridge as we approached which was I guess the one bonus of the slow journey.

Soon enough we were home in London, and as always, Cornwall and the South West were wonderful. Next time we go for longer!

Brutal Day Out–Thamesmead

Saturday 15 July 2023 – Thamesmead, London.

Friday 21/07, home writing.

Eleanor is at book club so I’m sat with my feet up on the coffee table supping gin and tonic, listening to records and catching up on photo editing and blog writing. After hitting publish on the Elan Valley post and typing in the date of this one I took a moment to reflect on how busy I’ve been over the last few months; it felt like there’s barely been a weekend with nothing on. After the long and seemingly quiet period of 2021 and 2022 it now seems like there is almost too much going on; we’ve gone back to the old normal. On Monday we’re off to Cornwall for three days, we have friends round for birthday drinks when we get back, the following Saturday I’m in St Leonards and the weekend after we’re going to see Eleanor’s friend in Macclesfield. There’s no letting up and I’m really happy to be active again; though flipping heck, it’s all gotten really expensive. Anyway, back to Thamesmead…

Thamesmead was (and still is) a housing estate designed and built in the 1960s on marshland on the southern bank of the River Thames. It was a new design and supposedly lessons had been learned from other housing estates built since the end of the war; with an aim to provide homes for local people rather than create an estate and move people into it. It was to be modern estate with a mix of low and high rise. Sitting here in 2023 with a brutalist architecture hat on the design looked amazing; however the promised Jubilee tube line never materialised and with the nearest shops cut off, first by a rail line and then by a busy road, it failed to be the utopia it could have been.

It was very brutalist and future looking with its clean concrete construction and hard angles and was made famous as the location for the equally brutal and dystopian film A Clockwork Orange.

I’ve been wanting to visit Thamesmead for ages, and finally got around to putting a call out for interest on the Whatsapp group that was created for a brutalist photowalk in May last year. Unsurprisingly there were other photographers who wanted to visit so we arranged to meet today. One of the crew who has visited previously agreed to be a loosely defined tour guide which was really helpful as there’s a large area to explore.

We met at Abbey Wood station, on the recently opened Elizabeth line. It was nice to be presented with a good concrete staircase that could be seen from the station platform. A promising start.

I was only expecting a couple of people to come to walk so was pleasantly surprised when 5 others turned up, including one who came all the way from Cardiff for the day, that is dedication to concrete. Our guide, Chris, started the walk by taking us in the opposite direction to Thamesmead, up towards the ruins of the Abbey on the edge of the large wood which between them gave the area its name. We didn’t visit the abbey, but stopped just short and took some photos of the stairway up to a bridge and the start of a walkway through to Thamesmead. I’m a big fan of brutalist stairs so this was a really promising start.

As you could imagine I took quite a few photos as we walked around for round, splitting the massive site into small zones.

Crossing over another lovely concrete road bridge we arrived on the eastern side of South Mere ‘lake’, the western and southern sides being a stage for some of the scenes in Clockwork Orange. Sadly a lot of that section of the estate has been knocked down and new flats and a building site have been left in its place.

We crossed the ‘Eastern Way’ motorway via another great bridge and found a great area of interlinked concrete walkways, bridges, ramps and stairs and my favourite type of place for shooting. There were few people about and I wasn’t pointing my camera at occupied homes; something I’m uncomfortable doing, though some of the group are less shy than me. I took quite few images.

After passing through a low rise estate and taking a couple of images we stopped for lunch outside one of the very few shops we passed; I had a pretty bad sausage roll and a Snickers; there are no fancy sourdough bread cafes round here. We sat on the steps and watched the water rats running in and out of the nearby stream.

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We looped back along the edge of the construction site that is all that remains of the area used in a scene for the famous scene in Clockwork orange where Alex pushes one of his fellow droogs into the lake, all that is left are the steps down to the water. The tower blocks and walkways were knocked down down 10 plus years ago.

Some parts of the high rise estate remain and we walked round those as we headed back to the elevated pathway that got us here in the first place.

The clouds started to hang heavy as we walked and the rain that had been forecast and threatening all day arrived a few minutes before we got to the pub next to Abbey Wood Station; luckily we didn’t get too wet. I stopped for a pint with the crew before jumping on a train back over to the northern side of the Thames and my normal habitat.

It was a cracking day out and a walk in Poplar has already been booked for mid-September. Thanks everyone for a most enjoyable afternoon.

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