We start on the bridge. 4th carriage, 1st set of doors, positioned just to the right in the nook between the doors and the luggage rack. The doors rumble as they slide shut, then we're off, down the slope and almost immediately into the next station. White tiles, hints of previous ownerships dotted along the platform. Doors open, doors close, the number of people on the train stays the same. Uphill start this time, then a curve to the left as we emerge into the 3rd station, old brickwork transitioning into brand new stark white tiles. Adverts for jewellers, warnings about fare evasion. More significant interchange here, the Underground both attracting and expelling passengers. We sit here for a couple of minutes, unnecessary time built into an inflated timetable, but finally the doors shut for a third time and we're moving again. We pass under the Underground, then through successive tunnels, daylight illuminating the carriage for brief moments. After the third stretch of darkness, we rumble into the past. "DO NOT ALIGHT HERE", years old adverts, disused platforms littered with the detritus of abandonment. Some passengers take this as their cue to ready themselves, as we curve left, then right, screeching into the present, and the future. We stop opposite the escalators, the doors open and I'm off, marching away to make a tight connection.
The Thameslink Core. 30 years in the making.
Friday, 12 May 2017
Sunday, 7 May 2017
The Rail Replacement Bus
It's Sunday. I have to go to work. Normally this would be simple; turn up at the station, get on a train, arrive at destination.
But not today. Today engineering work closed a section of line, including my station, and so I had to get up half an hour earlier to then catch a bus that dropped me off at a station not quite in the middle of nowhere, but not far off. So much time had been allotted for our journey to the station that we ended up waiting another 20 minutes for the onward train to London. Luckily, given this journey took place at 7am on a Sunday morning traffic was not an issue, and neither was the amount of passengers.
And yet I don't mind rail replacement buses. I certainly don't have the level of vitriol some people reserve for them. Perhaps it's because I don't have to take them regularly, perhaps it's because I like taking buses in general, perhaps it's because it's a little bit of a break from the norm; whatever it is, I don't descend into frothing rage whenever I see my journey will be made partly by bus rather than train. Call me mad, call me odd, call me maybe (no wait don't do that); I like public transport too much to be angry at a bus.
But not today. Today engineering work closed a section of line, including my station, and so I had to get up half an hour earlier to then catch a bus that dropped me off at a station not quite in the middle of nowhere, but not far off. So much time had been allotted for our journey to the station that we ended up waiting another 20 minutes for the onward train to London. Luckily, given this journey took place at 7am on a Sunday morning traffic was not an issue, and neither was the amount of passengers.
And yet I don't mind rail replacement buses. I certainly don't have the level of vitriol some people reserve for them. Perhaps it's because I don't have to take them regularly, perhaps it's because I like taking buses in general, perhaps it's because it's a little bit of a break from the norm; whatever it is, I don't descend into frothing rage whenever I see my journey will be made partly by bus rather than train. Call me mad, call me odd, call me maybe (no wait don't do that); I like public transport too much to be angry at a bus.
Friday, 14 April 2017
London LOOP: Erith to Petts Wood Part 2
I'm undertaking a project to walk the entirety of the London LOOP,
from Erith to Purfleet clockwise round the outer edge of London. Here's
section 1, part 2.
TfL's Section 2 of the LOOP has me heading down a narrow lane, passing under the railway line and
emerging alongside some fields. The path bends to the right, coming up
alongside Bexley Cricket Club & Burnt Ash Hockey Club, before
climbing for a short distance to leave me looking out across a wide expanse of grassland. The LOOP runs
straight through the middle, down a rough descent then along a freshly ploughed field, before leading into a cul-de-sac. I'm only on Riverside
Road for about 50 metres before I'm directed down a narrow fenced path,
which empties me out onto a bridge over, you guessed it, our old friend
the River Cray. I wend my way beside the river, with the path at times
becoming uncomfortably close to being in the river itself. Soon I pass
Five Arches Bridge, where a group of youths clamour for me to take their
picture, having been just starting to cross the bridge when I
photographed it. Thankfully they're not going the same way as me, and I
carry on in peace towards what will be my last crossing of the River
Cray, over Penny Farthing Bridge. I come to a small open space amongst the trees and leave the Cray behind for good this time; its accompanied me on the nicest sections of this walk so far.
My route takes me onto Rectory Road, past a youth & community centre who were definitely trying to tell me something, and on to a crossroads. Straight over, then second right to the end of a cul-de-sac, where I then turned left down a narrow path that led me into Foots Cray Recreation Ground. By this point it was half past 5 and starting to get dark, and I was beginning to wonder just how dark it was going to be when I got to Petts Wood. I pressed on, up a rising path past allotments and fields, passing also (although I didn't realise at the time) the former home of Cray Wanderers FC. Soon I reached the bottom of Sidcup Place Park, which climbed steeply towards a line of trees and behind them, Sidcup Place itself. I pass through the trees and round a playground, then curse my stupidity when I turn around and glimpse a fine view, now obscured by the trees. Whilst not completely exhausted, I'm in no mood to go back down that hill, and so I turn my back and head on.
Sidcup Place was built in the 1750s and extended throughout the 19th and early 20th century. Today it houses a restaurant, but has been used as a school and as council offices in the past. I pass by the side of the building, drawing a strangely
interested look from a family by a window, and walk over the grass to
the main road, the A222. Passing Queen Mary's Hospital on the left, I'm
coming up to a bit of road I'm very familiar with; Frognal Corner, the
junction of the A20 with the A222. I pass under the junction via stairs,
ramps and subways, and emerge on the London-bound exit slip road of the
A20, where I'm directed through a metal gate into the northeastern
fringe of Scadbury Nature Reserve. The path starts to slope downwards as
I'm taken southwards through the woods, with the light fading. I pass a
lone dog walker as the route curves to the right, heading towards
Scadbury Manor House, and soon I'm standing by the moat that surrounds
the house. Owned by the Walsinghams in the Middle Ages, the original
structure was demolished in the 1800s, and partially reconstructed in
the 1930s using the ground plan as a guide. All that remains today are
some brick pillars and chimneys, and a staircase.
The light by this point is fading badly, and I hurry onwards, my thoughts now more about just getting to the endpoint before darkness falls completely. The path starts to slope uphill again, and it's not long before I meet a tarmacked road, which leads me out to St Paul's Cray Road. Eventually a gap in the traffic lets me scamper across, and I pass into Petts Wood. The doleful hooting of an owl serenades me as I walk briskly through the gloomy trees, heading steadily downhill again. By the time I reach the railway line at the bottom of the hill darkness has fully descended, and I'm now finding it difficult to see where I'm going. I'm startled by another dog walker, who's going the opposite way (into the woods in the dark?) before coming to a footbridge over the railway line (the Chatham Main Line). I quickly come to another footbridge over a railway line, this one crossing the Up Chatham Loop between the Chatham Main Line and the South Eastern Main Line. A narrow footpath brings me out into the cul-de-sac of Little Thrift, where the very last part of this walk is unwalkable, as Network Rail have removed the footbridge carrying the LOOP over more railway lines. The last mile or so then is a trudge through suburbia, before reaching Petts Wood railway station, 6 hours and 47 minutes after I left Erith.
I slump on a bench on platform 3 at Petts Wood, happy to rest my weary legs. In truth, my misjudgement of the time it would take me to complete this walk meant the last 2-3 miles were not as enjoyable as the rest of the walk, but nevertheless, it was a fine start to this project. When I got home and plotted my route in Google Earth, I found one reason for the misjudgement; the planned mileage had been 15 miles, but I'd ended up walking 17.2! No wonder then that I'd finished almost an hour later than anticipated. Still, the walk had been very enjoyable, and had left me excited for what lay ahead.
TfL's Section 2 of the LOOP has me heading down a narrow lane, passing under the railway line and
emerging alongside some fields. The path bends to the right, coming up
alongside Bexley Cricket Club & Burnt Ash Hockey Club, before
climbing for a short distance to leave me looking out across a wide expanse of grassland. The LOOP runs
straight through the middle, down a rough descent then along a freshly ploughed field, before leading into a cul-de-sac. I'm only on Riverside
Road for about 50 metres before I'm directed down a narrow fenced path,
which empties me out onto a bridge over, you guessed it, our old friend
the River Cray. I wend my way beside the river, with the path at times
becoming uncomfortably close to being in the river itself. Soon I pass
Five Arches Bridge, where a group of youths clamour for me to take their
picture, having been just starting to cross the bridge when I
photographed it. Thankfully they're not going the same way as me, and I
carry on in peace towards what will be my last crossing of the River
Cray, over Penny Farthing Bridge. I come to a small open space amongst the trees and leave the Cray behind for good this time; its accompanied me on the nicest sections of this walk so far.My route takes me onto Rectory Road, past a youth & community centre who were definitely trying to tell me something, and on to a crossroads. Straight over, then second right to the end of a cul-de-sac, where I then turned left down a narrow path that led me into Foots Cray Recreation Ground. By this point it was half past 5 and starting to get dark, and I was beginning to wonder just how dark it was going to be when I got to Petts Wood. I pressed on, up a rising path past allotments and fields, passing also (although I didn't realise at the time) the former home of Cray Wanderers FC. Soon I reached the bottom of Sidcup Place Park, which climbed steeply towards a line of trees and behind them, Sidcup Place itself. I pass through the trees and round a playground, then curse my stupidity when I turn around and glimpse a fine view, now obscured by the trees. Whilst not completely exhausted, I'm in no mood to go back down that hill, and so I turn my back and head on.
Sidcup Place was built in the 1750s and extended throughout the 19th and early 20th century. Today it houses a restaurant, but has been used as a school and as council offices in the past. I pass by the side of the building, drawing a strangely
interested look from a family by a window, and walk over the grass to
the main road, the A222. Passing Queen Mary's Hospital on the left, I'm
coming up to a bit of road I'm very familiar with; Frognal Corner, the
junction of the A20 with the A222. I pass under the junction via stairs,
ramps and subways, and emerge on the London-bound exit slip road of the
A20, where I'm directed through a metal gate into the northeastern
fringe of Scadbury Nature Reserve. The path starts to slope downwards as
I'm taken southwards through the woods, with the light fading. I pass a
lone dog walker as the route curves to the right, heading towards
Scadbury Manor House, and soon I'm standing by the moat that surrounds
the house. Owned by the Walsinghams in the Middle Ages, the original
structure was demolished in the 1800s, and partially reconstructed in
the 1930s using the ground plan as a guide. All that remains today are
some brick pillars and chimneys, and a staircase.The light by this point is fading badly, and I hurry onwards, my thoughts now more about just getting to the endpoint before darkness falls completely. The path starts to slope uphill again, and it's not long before I meet a tarmacked road, which leads me out to St Paul's Cray Road. Eventually a gap in the traffic lets me scamper across, and I pass into Petts Wood. The doleful hooting of an owl serenades me as I walk briskly through the gloomy trees, heading steadily downhill again. By the time I reach the railway line at the bottom of the hill darkness has fully descended, and I'm now finding it difficult to see where I'm going. I'm startled by another dog walker, who's going the opposite way (into the woods in the dark?) before coming to a footbridge over the railway line (the Chatham Main Line). I quickly come to another footbridge over a railway line, this one crossing the Up Chatham Loop between the Chatham Main Line and the South Eastern Main Line. A narrow footpath brings me out into the cul-de-sac of Little Thrift, where the very last part of this walk is unwalkable, as Network Rail have removed the footbridge carrying the LOOP over more railway lines. The last mile or so then is a trudge through suburbia, before reaching Petts Wood railway station, 6 hours and 47 minutes after I left Erith.
I slump on a bench on platform 3 at Petts Wood, happy to rest my weary legs. In truth, my misjudgement of the time it would take me to complete this walk meant the last 2-3 miles were not as enjoyable as the rest of the walk, but nevertheless, it was a fine start to this project. When I got home and plotted my route in Google Earth, I found one reason for the misjudgement; the planned mileage had been 15 miles, but I'd ended up walking 17.2! No wonder then that I'd finished almost an hour later than anticipated. Still, the walk had been very enjoyable, and had left me excited for what lay ahead.
More photos from this walk here:
Thursday, 13 April 2017
London LOOP: Erith to Petts Wood Part 1
I'm undertaking a project to walk the entirety of the London LOOP, from Erith to Purfleet clockwise round the outer edge of London. Here's section 1.
Huzzah! It's 12:18 on the 18th March, and I'm finally standing outside Erith station, ready to start the first section of the London LOOP (London Outer Orbital Path, making it somewhat of a tautology like ATM machine or PIN number). The LOOP doesn't actually start at Erith station, so there's a brief walk through a new build housing estate, heavy with the smell of fresh tarmac, before I reach Erith Riverside Gardens and the start proper of the London Outer Orbital Path. The gardens themselves are unspectacular, standard brick flowerbeds and a ship's mast now used as a flagpole, but as the origin of one of London's longest walking routes it's pretty significant. You would think, being called the Riverside Gardens that there would be a river nearby, and you would think right; midway along the riverfront there is a step to some stairs going down to the Thames Path, which gives a nice panorama of the river at this point. I snapped a few photos, then set off properly on the London LOOP.
The Thames Path is rather relevant at this point, as it shadows the London LOOP for some distance. This meant the first section of this walk was sort of familiar, as I'd walked the Thames Path a couple of years ago. Exiting the Riverside Gardens I passed the first of many information boards about the LOOP, this one detailing some of the history of Erith (for instance King Henry VIII's warship Great Harry was fitted out in Erith). Heading up Erith High Street I passed the old police station (still with a weathered-looking sign asserting it was no longer a police station), then the Cross Keys pub, turning left down a path just before the Erith Playhouse. This path led me back out to the Thames, where a pier stretched out into the murky water. Opened in 1845, it's a legacy from the days when Erith attempted to become a fashionable Victorian seaside resort; unfortunately the railway arrived in 1849, considerably cutting journey times to London, and the opening of the Crossness Sewage Works upriver in 1865 hastened the demise of the town as a leisure destination. The pier was sold to a coal merchants in the late 19th century, and was rebuilt in concrete in the 1950s before being abandoned, then rescued by Morrison's supermarket in the late 1990s. Nowadays it's a popular spot for fishing, or to sit and watch the river go by.
After nipping into the aforementioned Morrison's, the LOOP took me back out to the river for a short stretch, before making a lengthy detour along Manor Road, lined with various industrial units. I suspected this would be the least scenic part of the route, and was relieved when I saw the signpost directing me left down a path back towards the river. The path curved to the right, then led me out onto the top of a raised bank, looking out across Crayford Marshes, with the river to my right and the QE2 Bridge in the distance ahead. The path wound across the grassland, curving gently with the riverbank. Unfortunately the natural beauty is blighted by an industrial estate, of which the path follows the northern edge. As you round Crayford Ness a large, rather brutal concrete structure reveals itself; this is the cumbersomely named Dartford Creek Tidal Flood Barrier, which stops the River Darent from inundating a large swathe of southeast London/northwest Kent. Talking of the Darent, this is where I take my leave of the Thames (I won't see it again until Kingston), and follow the Darent for a bit. The landscape doesn't change much, except I'm now heading roughly south. The Darent is not a particularly pretty river, but it's not long before I reach the junction with the river Cray, which will now feature quite heavily over the next few miles.
The Cray at this point is mostly invisible under an abundance of reeds, but this stretch only lasts about 1/2 a mile before I'm diverted off onto a path that runs through the southern tip of another industrial estate. A swarm of seagulls swoop over a landfill site, and a pair of angry dogs warn me off trespassing (not that I was about to). Under a railway bridge, and suddenly I'm on a busy main road, the A206 to be precise. I cross the road, head past a roundabout and cross again, then carry on down a short distance to the entrance to the next part of what I discover is now the Cray Riverway. From this point the Cray is much more pleasant, wending its way between the backs of houses and yet another industrial estate, but screened from the latter by trees and bushes. A few pylons stalked the opposite bank as the river and I wound our way towards Crayford (the origin of the name should be fairly obvious). The riverside path ends up on Crayford Way, opposite the Cray Gardens, just to the north of the town centre. Having taken advantage of a handy convenience, I walked through the gardens, which contained several artworks commemorating people and past industries of Crayford, such as David Evans (the silk manufacturer) and the old Vickers plane factory. The Cray runs through these gardens, but I won't see it again for just over half a mile.
The LOOP takes me up London Road (how many London Roads are there in London?) past some residential blocks and an entrance to the estate where the aforementioned David Evans silk factory used to stand (closed in 2001), then left into Bourne Road, where a former theatre turned cinema turned car showroom still has some ornate lamp columns flanking its forecourt. Immediately afterwards I'm directed into a large park, where several amateur football games were taking place. It's here I rejoin the Cray as it divides this park in two. The path takes me past a bridge that I very soon have to return to, as the bridge I'm supposed to go over is blocked off by utility works, as is the entire path down to the southern edge of the park. (My preoccupation with this meant I missed one of the landmarks of the walk, Hall Place). I end up scrambling down and up the sides of a ditch, and find myself alongside a railway line (it's the Sidcup line). A short walk on, past a couple who clearly thought this part of the park would be unsullied by other human presence, and up a flight of stairs, which dumps me out straight onto the busy A2; quite the contrast to the last mile or so.
Luckily I'm only on the road for a few moments, before I take a gently sloping path down to... yet more utility works. These however appear to have actually blocked my way forward, as I'm supposed to turn sharp left after the initial downward path. After yomping through some undergrowth in an attempt to find a way through, I'm left cursing the utility company; that is until I spot the path I want when I return to the original way. Feeling suitably foolish, I pass under the A2 alongside the railway line again, and mount a stile to get into Church Field Wood, which slopes uphill towards Bexley. Out of the woods and onto a path which brings me out opposite St Mary the Virgin Church, which has stood in Bexley for over 800 years. I cross the Cray again as the path takes me into Bexley town centre, which is where section 1 of the official TfL LOOP ends. I however am carrying on...
Huzzah! It's 12:18 on the 18th March, and I'm finally standing outside Erith station, ready to start the first section of the London LOOP (London Outer Orbital Path, making it somewhat of a tautology like ATM machine or PIN number). The LOOP doesn't actually start at Erith station, so there's a brief walk through a new build housing estate, heavy with the smell of fresh tarmac, before I reach Erith Riverside Gardens and the start proper of the London Outer Orbital Path. The gardens themselves are unspectacular, standard brick flowerbeds and a ship's mast now used as a flagpole, but as the origin of one of London's longest walking routes it's pretty significant. You would think, being called the Riverside Gardens that there would be a river nearby, and you would think right; midway along the riverfront there is a step to some stairs going down to the Thames Path, which gives a nice panorama of the river at this point. I snapped a few photos, then set off properly on the London LOOP.The Thames Path is rather relevant at this point, as it shadows the London LOOP for some distance. This meant the first section of this walk was sort of familiar, as I'd walked the Thames Path a couple of years ago. Exiting the Riverside Gardens I passed the first of many information boards about the LOOP, this one detailing some of the history of Erith (for instance King Henry VIII's warship Great Harry was fitted out in Erith). Heading up Erith High Street I passed the old police station (still with a weathered-looking sign asserting it was no longer a police station), then the Cross Keys pub, turning left down a path just before the Erith Playhouse. This path led me back out to the Thames, where a pier stretched out into the murky water. Opened in 1845, it's a legacy from the days when Erith attempted to become a fashionable Victorian seaside resort; unfortunately the railway arrived in 1849, considerably cutting journey times to London, and the opening of the Crossness Sewage Works upriver in 1865 hastened the demise of the town as a leisure destination. The pier was sold to a coal merchants in the late 19th century, and was rebuilt in concrete in the 1950s before being abandoned, then rescued by Morrison's supermarket in the late 1990s. Nowadays it's a popular spot for fishing, or to sit and watch the river go by.After nipping into the aforementioned Morrison's, the LOOP took me back out to the river for a short stretch, before making a lengthy detour along Manor Road, lined with various industrial units. I suspected this would be the least scenic part of the route, and was relieved when I saw the signpost directing me left down a path back towards the river. The path curved to the right, then led me out onto the top of a raised bank, looking out across Crayford Marshes, with the river to my right and the QE2 Bridge in the distance ahead. The path wound across the grassland, curving gently with the riverbank. Unfortunately the natural beauty is blighted by an industrial estate, of which the path follows the northern edge. As you round Crayford Ness a large, rather brutal concrete structure reveals itself; this is the cumbersomely named Dartford Creek Tidal Flood Barrier, which stops the River Darent from inundating a large swathe of southeast London/northwest Kent. Talking of the Darent, this is where I take my leave of the Thames (I won't see it again until Kingston), and follow the Darent for a bit. The landscape doesn't change much, except I'm now heading roughly south. The Darent is not a particularly pretty river, but it's not long before I reach the junction with the river Cray, which will now feature quite heavily over the next few miles.The Cray at this point is mostly invisible under an abundance of reeds, but this stretch only lasts about 1/2 a mile before I'm diverted off onto a path that runs through the southern tip of another industrial estate. A swarm of seagulls swoop over a landfill site, and a pair of angry dogs warn me off trespassing (not that I was about to). Under a railway bridge, and suddenly I'm on a busy main road, the A206 to be precise. I cross the road, head past a roundabout and cross again, then carry on down a short distance to the entrance to the next part of what I discover is now the Cray Riverway. From this point the Cray is much more pleasant, wending its way between the backs of houses and yet another industrial estate, but screened from the latter by trees and bushes. A few pylons stalked the opposite bank as the river and I wound our way towards Crayford (the origin of the name should be fairly obvious). The riverside path ends up on Crayford Way, opposite the Cray Gardens, just to the north of the town centre. Having taken advantage of a handy convenience, I walked through the gardens, which contained several artworks commemorating people and past industries of Crayford, such as David Evans (the silk manufacturer) and the old Vickers plane factory. The Cray runs through these gardens, but I won't see it again for just over half a mile.The LOOP takes me up London Road (how many London Roads are there in London?) past some residential blocks and an entrance to the estate where the aforementioned David Evans silk factory used to stand (closed in 2001), then left into Bourne Road, where a former theatre turned cinema turned car showroom still has some ornate lamp columns flanking its forecourt. Immediately afterwards I'm directed into a large park, where several amateur football games were taking place. It's here I rejoin the Cray as it divides this park in two. The path takes me past a bridge that I very soon have to return to, as the bridge I'm supposed to go over is blocked off by utility works, as is the entire path down to the southern edge of the park. (My preoccupation with this meant I missed one of the landmarks of the walk, Hall Place). I end up scrambling down and up the sides of a ditch, and find myself alongside a railway line (it's the Sidcup line). A short walk on, past a couple who clearly thought this part of the park would be unsullied by other human presence, and up a flight of stairs, which dumps me out straight onto the busy A2; quite the contrast to the last mile or so.Luckily I'm only on the road for a few moments, before I take a gently sloping path down to... yet more utility works. These however appear to have actually blocked my way forward, as I'm supposed to turn sharp left after the initial downward path. After yomping through some undergrowth in an attempt to find a way through, I'm left cursing the utility company; that is until I spot the path I want when I return to the original way. Feeling suitably foolish, I pass under the A2 alongside the railway line again, and mount a stile to get into Church Field Wood, which slopes uphill towards Bexley. Out of the woods and onto a path which brings me out opposite St Mary the Virgin Church, which has stood in Bexley for over 800 years. I cross the Cray again as the path takes me into Bexley town centre, which is where section 1 of the official TfL LOOP ends. I however am carrying on...
Wednesday, 5 April 2017
A moan about an advert...
It's time for my first moany blog, or mlog if you like that sort of thing (I don't, that sounds stupid). I see this advert on the train into work quite often:
There are several things that irritate me about this picture:
P.S. I'm still writing about my not-very-recent-any-more train journey and my first London LOOP walk, they will get done soon I promise!
There are several things that irritate me about this picture:
- Why is the man on the left so shocked?
- Where is the woman at the table aiming?
- Why are they still playing when the people playing yellow have clearly won?
- Why is the man on the right shouting?
- Why isn't the woman at the table even pointing her cue at the cue ball?
P.S. I'm still writing about my not-very-recent-any-more train journey and my first London LOOP walk, they will get done soon I promise!
Tuesday, 14 March 2017
Alphabetical Kent: Boughton Street/Boughton/Boughton-under-Blean
As part of a project to get to know my home county a bit better, I'm visiting one randomly chosen place (that I've never been to before) beginning with each letter. Here's B.
Boughton Street, or Boughton-under-Blean, or just Boughton is a village around 2.75 miles east of Faversham. At the 2011 census, it had a population of 1,971 people, which is quite a bit more than the first place I visited in this series, making me hopeful that it would be slightly more interesting than Acrise. Getting there was a little easier; a train to Faversham then a bus that took me straight to Boughton. The bus deposited me on Bull Lane, a road that runs north out of the village alongside some fields. The initial view northwest from here was really rather good, especially in the afternoon sunlight; much better weather than last time. I headed down the hill into the main heart of Boughton.
The village is a classic design seen all over Britain; one main street running through the middle with houses strung out along the road. Houses at the western end of the village range from timbered Tudor constructions to rather more modern affairs. The first building of note I encountered was the first of two pubs in the village, The White Horse. The pub is an ancient coaching inn, and was mentioned in Geoffrey Chaucer's seminal work The Canterbury Tales (as indeed was the village in general). According to its website, "beautiful landscaping has turned a pleasant pub garden in to an Englishman’s dream." Whether that claim is true I don't know, as the pub didn't look particularly open when I passed by (although another glance at the website reveals it was open, damn). I carried on, and found myself outside a tall church-esque structure, which upon closer examination I found was a Wesleyan Chapel (was being very much the operative word here; this looked definitely closed). The path down the side looked privately residential, but there was what looked like a car park at the bottom, so I ventured down for a look at the back, which almost turned out quite badly; a dog appeared from a hidden entrance and made a beeline for me, sniffing me inquisitively before whining at me. I sensed perhaps it was wise to make my exit from the back of the church, a feeling exacerbated when the dog followed me back up the path. As I carried on up the road, I noticed the owner of said dog come out of their residence. Fearing a confrontation of some kind, I kept going with my headphones in, wandering innocuously up the road towards a public convenience. The owner passed me as I turned away from the main road, but said nothing, and I made it to the toilet unscathed.
There was no sign of dog or owner when I emerged and restarted eastwards. Next along the road was the village's second pub, The Queen's Head. Not quite as old as The White Horse, it's nevertheless still over 400 years old, and also boasts of their private beer garden, which is maintained by their own gardener apparently. A little further on stands St. Barnabas' Church, with the village war memorial outside. The main road at this point is sunken a few feet below the pavement level, a result of regulations brought in during the "turnpike mania" of the mid-18th century. Past this point the village becomes much more residential, even along the main road, and the only businesses from here to the end of the village are a garage/petrol station and The Dairy restaurant. I paused at the junction of Staplestreet Road and The Street, admiring another view northwest which had opened up, and also the view to the northeast, where thickly wooded slopes rose up above the houses. I turned around and headed back into the village.
I only really had a couple more things to explore, and the first of these was the village hall, which is situated on the south end of the village recreation ground. I took the long way round, via where the bus had dropped me off (and would pick me up later), and walked along The Charltons, another residential street. The village hall was rather disappointing really; given the architectural vintage of the majority of the village, I was not expecting a bland, squat brick structure with no interesting features whatsoever. The hall also houses the village library. I carried on past the village primary school, and back down to the main road. I paused outside an abandoned hotel, which had been gone for several years by the looks of it. A little bit of digging revealed the hotel had been closed for at least 8 years, as planning permission was given to convert it into apartments at the end of February 2009; I can safely say that didn't come to fruition. With a little bit of time left to kill, I nipped down a footpath that led to a footbridge over the road that means Boughton retains an air of village tranquility: the Boughton Bypass. Before 1976, the A2 ran through the middle of the village, a route as old as the Celts, but it now runs in an arc round the south of the village, diverting all that traffic away; something I'm sure the residents are very grateful for.
Back on the main road, I walked westwards, down towards the western edge of the village and the road crossing of the bypass. Nothing much interesting down that way, apart from Boughton House and a farm. Just after the bridge, a footpath led down into the woods on the south side of the village. I still had some time left, so I plunged into the trees. The path itself was barely there, and aside from a small stream, there wasn't much of merit about the path, which was quite muddy (I almost slipped over at one point) and eventually brought me out alongside the A2. I made my escape via another path which led to the earlier path from the footbridge and came out onto the main road (again). As a last little exploration, I decided to head down the eastern side of the recreation ground and along the northern end, which brought me out opposite the hop fields I'd been dropped off at a couple of hours ago. I made my way back up the road, and waited for the bus to take me back to Faversham.
So, Boughton/Boughton Street/Boughton-under-Blean then. A nice village certainly, but although the place has history behind it, it somehow feels lacking in presenting any of it in an engaging way. Having said that, it was certainly more interesting than Acrise (not that that's difficult!).
P.S. If you'd like to see what the village was like before the A2 got diverted, there's an interesting little video here.
Boughton Street, or Boughton-under-Blean, or just Boughton is a village around 2.75 miles east of Faversham. At the 2011 census, it had a population of 1,971 people, which is quite a bit more than the first place I visited in this series, making me hopeful that it would be slightly more interesting than Acrise. Getting there was a little easier; a train to Faversham then a bus that took me straight to Boughton. The bus deposited me on Bull Lane, a road that runs north out of the village alongside some fields. The initial view northwest from here was really rather good, especially in the afternoon sunlight; much better weather than last time. I headed down the hill into the main heart of Boughton.
The village is a classic design seen all over Britain; one main street running through the middle with houses strung out along the road. Houses at the western end of the village range from timbered Tudor constructions to rather more modern affairs. The first building of note I encountered was the first of two pubs in the village, The White Horse. The pub is an ancient coaching inn, and was mentioned in Geoffrey Chaucer's seminal work The Canterbury Tales (as indeed was the village in general). According to its website, "beautiful landscaping has turned a pleasant pub garden in to an Englishman’s dream." Whether that claim is true I don't know, as the pub didn't look particularly open when I passed by (although another glance at the website reveals it was open, damn). I carried on, and found myself outside a tall church-esque structure, which upon closer examination I found was a Wesleyan Chapel (was being very much the operative word here; this looked definitely closed). The path down the side looked privately residential, but there was what looked like a car park at the bottom, so I ventured down for a look at the back, which almost turned out quite badly; a dog appeared from a hidden entrance and made a beeline for me, sniffing me inquisitively before whining at me. I sensed perhaps it was wise to make my exit from the back of the church, a feeling exacerbated when the dog followed me back up the path. As I carried on up the road, I noticed the owner of said dog come out of their residence. Fearing a confrontation of some kind, I kept going with my headphones in, wandering innocuously up the road towards a public convenience. The owner passed me as I turned away from the main road, but said nothing, and I made it to the toilet unscathed.There was no sign of dog or owner when I emerged and restarted eastwards. Next along the road was the village's second pub, The Queen's Head. Not quite as old as The White Horse, it's nevertheless still over 400 years old, and also boasts of their private beer garden, which is maintained by their own gardener apparently. A little further on stands St. Barnabas' Church, with the village war memorial outside. The main road at this point is sunken a few feet below the pavement level, a result of regulations brought in during the "turnpike mania" of the mid-18th century. Past this point the village becomes much more residential, even along the main road, and the only businesses from here to the end of the village are a garage/petrol station and The Dairy restaurant. I paused at the junction of Staplestreet Road and The Street, admiring another view northwest which had opened up, and also the view to the northeast, where thickly wooded slopes rose up above the houses. I turned around and headed back into the village.I only really had a couple more things to explore, and the first of these was the village hall, which is situated on the south end of the village recreation ground. I took the long way round, via where the bus had dropped me off (and would pick me up later), and walked along The Charltons, another residential street. The village hall was rather disappointing really; given the architectural vintage of the majority of the village, I was not expecting a bland, squat brick structure with no interesting features whatsoever. The hall also houses the village library. I carried on past the village primary school, and back down to the main road. I paused outside an abandoned hotel, which had been gone for several years by the looks of it. A little bit of digging revealed the hotel had been closed for at least 8 years, as planning permission was given to convert it into apartments at the end of February 2009; I can safely say that didn't come to fruition. With a little bit of time left to kill, I nipped down a footpath that led to a footbridge over the road that means Boughton retains an air of village tranquility: the Boughton Bypass. Before 1976, the A2 ran through the middle of the village, a route as old as the Celts, but it now runs in an arc round the south of the village, diverting all that traffic away; something I'm sure the residents are very grateful for.Back on the main road, I walked westwards, down towards the western edge of the village and the road crossing of the bypass. Nothing much interesting down that way, apart from Boughton House and a farm. Just after the bridge, a footpath led down into the woods on the south side of the village. I still had some time left, so I plunged into the trees. The path itself was barely there, and aside from a small stream, there wasn't much of merit about the path, which was quite muddy (I almost slipped over at one point) and eventually brought me out alongside the A2. I made my escape via another path which led to the earlier path from the footbridge and came out onto the main road (again). As a last little exploration, I decided to head down the eastern side of the recreation ground and along the northern end, which brought me out opposite the hop fields I'd been dropped off at a couple of hours ago. I made my way back up the road, and waited for the bus to take me back to Faversham.
So, Boughton/Boughton Street/Boughton-under-Blean then. A nice village certainly, but although the place has history behind it, it somehow feels lacking in presenting any of it in an engaging way. Having said that, it was certainly more interesting than Acrise (not that that's difficult!).
P.S. If you'd like to see what the village was like before the A2 got diverted, there's an interesting little video here.
Some more pictures from this trip on Flickr:
Wednesday, 1 March 2017
Pinch punch...
In the first post I made, I immediately discounted daily blogging; I didn't however intend to have a 3 week gap in posts. There are several reasons for this:
- Work has been keeping me busy
- I am lazy
- I haven't done any long-form writing for about 3 years
- I have a short attention span
- Sometimes I'm just not in the right mood for blogging
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