Fragment 6: Ermine Street 3 years ago
Posted in The Fragments on Sunday 20th November 2022 at 1:11pm
There is far less excuse for this fragment lying incomplete, dating as it does from the tail end of Summer 2019. Looking back, that feels like a strangely gentle time in the world - though it was already a bubbling pot of future horror: looming and contentious US elections, the last desperate flaps of the dead Brexit fish, and interminable local politics. I remember little of the motivation given the time which has elapsed since I struck out from Liverpool Street that morning, but I clearly wanted a walk in the northeastern corner of the city and was looking for an excuse to visit Waltham Abbey. Despite my incomprehensible notes which indicated a plan to write around the link between the last resting place of King Harold Godwinson to our excursion to the statue of Edith and Harold at St.Leonards, I'd written nothing - and all that is here are some rather drab pictures of a slog into London from the fringes.
The walk out to Waltham Abbey was long and hot as I recall, and I thought I'd maybe extended myself too far until the abbey appeared squat and ancient in the middle of the small town. After a visit to Harold's grave site, I returned to the larger centre of Waltham Cross, turning south onto the pedestrianised precinct which eventually became the A1010 - the former route of the mighty A10, and of course historically, of Roman Ermine Street.. The M25 enters Holmesdale Tunnel here, with a long linear park filling the tell-tale gap between Waltham Abbey and Enfield, on land which was formerly market garden territory.
Once into Enfield, the road assumes the rather forlorn appearance of a once mighty artery now reduced to secondary importance. It becomes a string of localities, with little to distinguish them: Turkey Street, Enfield Highway, Freezywater - aside from the effort which the Borough has gone to in supporting each little commercial zone with maps, signage and 'welcome' signs. I dread to think how many of these tiny concerns managed to ride out the pandemic - though perhaps our collective 'staying local' helped some of them. The route crossed a good deal of familiar territory too - the valleys of the Turkey Brook, Salmon's Brook and Moselle, and the unnatural chasm of the North Circular. I stumbled through Edmonton Green and Stamford Hill, arriving at the gates of Abney Park Cemetery - its usual freight of local walkers and goth denizens in evidence.
The remainder of the route was the familiar and much-trodden road into London - Dalston Junction, Kingsland Road, Norton Folgate - from desolation to gentrification, from market stalls to artisan street food. As I arrived under the towers of Bishopsgate and took a familiar snap of Christ Church Spitalfields at the end of Brushfield Street, a wedding party was setting off indigo-coloured smoke bombs across the street. The church was solid, reliable, and sinister. Seemingly more robust than the surrounding steel towers and glass-fronted bank headquarters. My walks into London via ancient thoroughfares always manage to explain the topography - they are often the paths of least resistance. Straight and flat. Complicated only by human interventions.
You can find photographs from the walk here.
Lost Weekend #5: Dear Green Places 15 years ago
Posted in Railways on Saturday 20th November 2010 at 10:43pm
The concept of the Lost Weekend isn't a new one - but it's not reared its head here for a while. In simple terms, these strange and often rather desperate dashes across the country occur when I find myself with pre-booked tickets and accommodation for an event or tour which is cancelled. In 2009, when it seemed nearly every tour by some operators was pulled at the last minute, it was left to the likes of Spitfire to keep flying the flag. However, there were a good number of things which just didn't happen. I began to view it as a natural hazard in a hobby which required more and more desperate action to get to interesting tours which might just run. Unsurprisingly, given my preferences and history, an inordinate number of these Lost Weekends have focused on Glasgow.
Having said that, I've documented previously the frustration of being in the city for a short time. Unable to plan much beyond an aimless wander and pushed for time so that lingering and absorbing the city in the way I've grown to love is near impossible. Today though, waking and wandering up to a chilly Wolverhampton station I felt genuinely relaxed and unconcerned. Having spent a lot of time in Glasgow just a month ago, this felt less like a mission and more like the pleasant little daytrip it was. Onto the 07:37, which didn't really get busy at all, and off up the West Coast. We passed out from under the carpet of fog somewhere around Stafford, and clear blue skies and freezing temperatures seemed to be the order of the day. Headphones on, coffee in hand and nothing to do but relax and watch the scenery pass by on perhaps my favourite rail journey.
On arrival, I almost skipped off the train onto the familiar turf of Central Station. Happy just to be back, even if briefly. The plan was to kick off with a coffee in a favourite spot and to watch the Saturday morning crowds pass by. Despite being chilly, the locals were out in force and there was a sense of a positive, bustling city centre I've picked up elsewhere in the UK. I sometimes think on days like this that the economic gloom is a manufactured response to a crisis which hangs over us thanks to the last government. I know times are tough - but this seems to be a relative concept. It felt wrong to speculate on this whilst my own fate, along with thousands of other public sector workers hangs in the balance. I finished my coffee and plunged into the crowds. Next stop was Love Music, formerly Avalanche Records. I picked up a couple of CDs which I just couldn't have easily got down south, then pressed on again.
The rather unexpectedly formed plan was to head eastwards again, and to wander on Glasgow Green. It was many years since I'd done this, and since it wasn't raining and Glasgow had settled into one of it's silvery winter days it seemed like a sensible plan. I set off, trudging through Merchant City and stopping to pick up supplies, before turning into Saltmarket and heading for the Clyde. The Green is impressively large, bounded on one side by a elbow-shaped curve in the river, and on the other by London Road which rather suddenly stops being a main road into the city centre, and becomes a range of low-rise residential properties. In the centre of the Green, the People's Palace stands proudly and rather ceremoniously. All the paths seem to eventually lead to the huge building with it's elegant tropical extension - an echo of the Kibble Palace in the West End perhaps? I sat to picnic for a while on a bench, noting that few others were out this cold morning. Returning kayakers headed for the dilapidated but still functioning boat shed, and the occasional walker or cyclist passed by. I watched the tidal weir for awhile, now listed I understand, and leading to the division of the Clyde into two distinct eco-systems. Glasgow still has the ability to surprise me, as this quiet green oasis proved.
It was time to head into the Peoples' Palace. Just a short visit as the thought of a museum tea-shop wasn't on today's agenda. The formal space indoors echoed the careful layout of the park outside, but with none of the sense of space. After the briefest of chats with a guide I tumbled back out of the revolving doors and decided instead to capture some pictures of the Green and the Palace, before returning to the city. My route back took a detour through The Barras. Again, its been a few years since I headed this way - and the place is still as amazing and confusing as ever. I've never strayed this way in the summer when it's said to teem with even more life - but it's hard to imagine it being busier or more diverse in the range of goods it sells. There was a distinct reek of expensive soap in the market today, which led me to wonder which local branch of Lush had suffered a break-in recently?
And so, snaking my way back into town, coincidentally via the route of the buried Molendinar Burn which occupied my thoughts on a previous trip. It was now frustratingly hard to get around the busy streets as I searched in vain for a chance to sit and contemplate my walk and watch things go by. In the end, settled for Queen Street station where I watched people heading for the Far North from a quiet corner. I was comforted by the knowledge I was already planning my next trip back here. These Lost Weekends have sometimes not been successful and have left me feeling disconnected and strange - but despite facing a long dark trip back to the Midlands, this one felt like a success.
Wrapped up in Books and Ecumenical Matters 21 years ago
Posted in London on Saturday 20th November 2004 at 11:09pm
Another early start, and coincidentally another trip to London with 'Sulis Minerva' at the rear of the 0640. Engineering on the Circle means H&C to Barbican and time for breakfast before heading to the Museum of London for the 39th London & Middlesex Archaeological Society Local History Conference. This years theme being "1400 Years of St. Paul's Cathedral and the Diocese of London".
Excellent attendence, with me possibly one of the younger members of the audience! The speakers covered a range of viewpoints and disciplines. We started with the Bishop of London, Richard Chartres who gave an entertaining overview of the Missionary Work in Victorian Times - often amusing and very well informed.
Other personal highlights were an account of Anglicanism in 18th century London and the many new City Churches which were built, and Dr John Schofield's talk on Old St. Pauls, which remains an object of fascination to me. We were also extremely lucky to have Martin Stancliffe, Surveyor of the Fabric of St. Pauls to talk about the secrets which the current building continues to reveal.
Professor James Raven's talk on the book trade in the precinct of St. Pauls was doubly rewarding. Apart from describing the history of the now long-disappeared Paternoster Row he gave an enthralling account of the historical methods he had used to piece together the changing ownership and usage of the individual establishments involved in the book trade in the area. Had a pleasant if expensive lunch in the Museum cafe and then browsed the bookshop and stalls which many of the Local History Societies from surrounding areas had set up.
Out into the cold damp evening, and decided to head for the pub before travelling back to Paddington, and catching the 1845 home. All well until Reading, where the train moved off before the doors were closed or secured. Chaos ensued. First Great Western staff milling around everywhere, the Train Manager getting increasingly stressed and becoming dangerous flippant and rude to customers, and general confusion. Eventually, they decided to terminate the train. Problem is, whilst we had waited several trainloads of rugby fans had arrived from Twickenham and swelled our ranks.
Managed to get a seat on the next, very wedged Bristol-bound service. Pretty unpleasant atmosphere with lots of angry people in a confined space. Not a pleasant journey. Loaded into a taxi at Temple Meads, along with an acquaitance I only ever seem to meet on the train or at strange and difficult moments! Pleasant, if slightly alarming taxi ride back to Weston. An unusual end to an exhausting but informative day...
Daylog Entry for Monday 20/11/2000 25 years ago
Posted in Updates on Monday 20th November 2000 at 12:00am
More gtkdial news - at last the single-service option is working, along with some other general tidying up (Usual RPMS: Red Hat 7.0/Red Hat 6.2). Teeth feeling a little better. Finally got the haircut I've been threatening for weeks. Be warned, at this rate there could be yet more releases of gtkdial before the day is out....
Lost::MikeGTN
I've had a home on the web for more years than I care to remember, and a few kind souls persuade me it's worth persisting with keeping it updated. This current incarnation of the site is centred around the blog posts which began back in 1999 as 'the daylog' and continued through my travels and tribulations during the following years.
I don't get out and about nearly as much these days, but I do try to record significant events and trips for posterity. You may also have arrived here by following the trail to my former music blog Songs Heard On Fast Trains. That content is preserved here too.
