'Bricking it'

To some that may look like a badly taken picture of a brick up against a door, to me however it is a revelation!   You see that door never shuts properly, the slightest breeze and it is open, and when I came here I mentioned this to the landlords man who shrugged and muttered and left it alone.  The indication was he was a busy man and this was not important.
Since then I have sat here constantly pushing the door shut in winter or leaving it wide open in summer to avoid the draught that hurtles through attacking my back.  I have been here over twenty years and only this morning it came to me that I could place a brick (we all have them lying around in case we feel the need to throw them at someone) against the door and force the brute to stay shut.  Therefore I placed a brick against the door and the door has happily obeyed in spite of the wind whistling though here and there and refused to open.
There is however still a draught!

There is something about the starkness of trees standing against what light there is in the evenings.  My bleary eyes found myself staring at the trees over yonder as the darkness began to creep in and the trees became silhouetted against the cloudy sky.  

 
The sky being what it is changes colour of you look around ever so slightly.  This is the tree next door and the sky is slightly different yet the starkness remains as does a slight tinge of the colour of dying leaves.  This always catches my attention, the stark outline of the branches and the hues behind.
I could of course just be daft...

I came across this coin the other day at the museum and was taken aback as I did not know such as this existed.  In my day coins were coins of the realm worth a vast amount of cash, well things were cheaper then, and today they appear to have all sorts of crazy drawings all over them, sometimes only parts of a drawing!  It's all very strange to me.  Mind you after several attempts to photograph it the coin is even stranger, I must try again to morrow and get it right this time.

A Walk in the Park

In the chill of the day ensuring we all knew Autumn had arrived the sun continued to pretend it was summer and tempted me out onto the zimmer bus.  A trundle into the big city (they call it big) and a walk in the park by the river was on the cards.

The skies above were filled with puffy clouds (or UFO's to those who read the 'Daily Mail') standing out from the attractive blue sky.  Here the sky is seen above the cafe which offered me a decent coffee for only £1:90, far cheaper than those expensive shops that fill all the high Streets in this world.  Not only that the service was attractive, friendly and efficient.  I will use it again when there.   

It is no surprise this well cared for park was busy.  Mums with pushchairs, joggers sweating by, workers on lunch enjoying the air and the occasional duck flapping about in the water.  All in all a good way to spend your lunchtimes and make use of the cafe.  There was a happy relaxed 'feel' about the place which is not always the case in cities, maybe the population had not yet gone for their coffee?  Anyhow it was an enjoyable couple of hours in the sunshine.

During 1842 the Eastern Counties Railway (ECR) arrived at Chelmsford on its very expensive trek towards Ipswich.  Eventually the line reached the destination but only after many money troubles.  I suspect having to build an 18 arch viaduct across what is now Central Park in the town added to their financial care.  The station now stands high above the town, the old signal box has is five story high on the north side, and this magnificent viaduct still carries the daily traffic, taking some 14,000 a day in the London commute.  I constantly find myself admiring brickwork, especially the brickwork involved in creating thousands of Victorian rail bridges both large and small.  No wonder the economy grew?  The desire for railways ensured a demand for bricks, the railways took bare material to factories which turned this into goods which the railways carried away.  The growing economy led to a move to the city, a demand for new housing, a demand for more bricks.  Those simple red bricks help change the nation.  I realise there is a lot more to this than my simple explanation but certainly the arrival of rail changed the world in a way little has until computers landed on our desks.

    
Here we see the Abellio service rushing towards Ipswich (is it my cynicism that makes me wish I had written 'the late running Abellio service?) possibly stopping at the Chelmsford but sometime charging straight through.  A journey of just under an hour into Liverpool Street station has made this a commuter town a favourite for many.  I find it a bit boring but at least all the shops required can be found here, all other activities are catered for and for many young families it meets their needs.  However while the Essex County Cricket side play most of their games in Chelmsford their football team is so far down the leagues that it will take a year before they can join little Braintree and a further year before they can meet the 'big boys.'  Maybe it will be their year this time...

Whether there are any fish in the River Can I know not but this man is moving at my speed today!  In the background can be seen some canoes with slow moving oarsmen paddling along.  The flow goes this way and I hope they can manage to fight the stream all the way back.  Some distance down there is a canoe club which may be where they are heading, possibly they started from there and went up river.  A nice pleasant way to pass a day like today.

I was somewhat surprised to see outside the shopping centre table tennis tables, 'Wiff Waff' to some of us of course, and is that a chess set laid out for use?  It all looks to energetic for me, a quick trip to the butcher for '3 for £10 chicken' then off to catch the zimmer bus, admire old folks bus passes with another zimmer bus user and rest my knees.

Now I'm not one to Complain, but.....

I went down to board the 'Worst Bus' this morning and found it living up to it's name.  Who, I wish to know, considers using a single decker bus on a busy route that includes hordes of degenerates heading for Sixth Form College?   The bus filled with them, and at each stop, so many stops, more got on each one absorbed in his 'iPad' (who pays?), 'Walkman' or discussing (loudly) their lives with their neighbours!  The ability to absorb knowledge concerning the important subjects that cause the poor dears such trauma come exam time appears not to include an ability to move from the front door of the bus until the driver chides them, blocking access or escape, and general consideration for others!  Bah!  In my day we had jobs and kept the wheels of industry turning, none of this needless education until we sign on for three years for my generation.  On top of this the brats had the best seats, my late arrival meant I had one of those low slung seats where the sun is enabled to burn your face as you travel.  Oh joy!

Naturally all these creatures left the bus at my stop thus blocking the pavements for miles around and folks with important shopping had to force their way through as they discarded their breakfasts across the streets.  However was it worth the effort?  No it was not!  The desperately required jacket was not available in any shop that I entered, well once or twice something similar was on offer, at prices ranging from £65 - £180!!!!!  Yer having a laff pal!  In BHS (I think, they all look the same to me) not only did they almost have what I wanted, almost at the price I might pay but having a stand of some sort of cards next to the jackets, so close that I knocked the some off the rack, picked them up, as others fell, picked them up, carried on with my research while knocking more cards, hooks they were hanging on and then more cards off the rack, which I then just dumped on the floor under the stand.  Enough looking at their prices with restocking their display stands I thought.  No member of staff moved, or appeared to care.  I lost interest in the jackets and there were no lingerie nearby to ensure I remained in that store either!

  
The 'Castle' is undergoing a major renovation that must be costing millions of pounds.  Our little museum will be doing similar shortly.  The miserly government that happily encourages massive losses on privatised industries, MOD spending, and Tax dodging by their friends, has cut funding for 'Heritage' projects UK wide.  No moneyed friends in this business obviously, so all such organisations have to go into debt to prepare for self funding.  Many will close I foresee.  This little exhibition in the gardens can be given a well deserved Gold Star in my view.  They may have stolen Edinburgh's Chinese Pandas but they have done this very well.

St Botolph's admirable doorway.  Standing next to the old priory ruins mentioned earlier this year this impressive building is hidden behind the main road.  Once upon a time it must have been in an open space I reckon.  I called this 'impressive,' but really is dark gray, darkened by years of smoke soot, really the best brick to use for such a building?  At least this building is still in general use. 

It's tower is quite tall, too tall for my wee camera.

Good news and bad news!  The good news is the discovery of a proper bookshop!  Hooray!!  The bad news is the fact that it is closing down!  Boo!!  The only real bookshop, and this is a very real bookshop, in Colchester is about to end its days.  The owner is retiring, not going bust, so the shop surely can continue, however no-one is keen to take over and keep the shop open, this is very sad news indeed.  The shop contains lots of shelves, lined up in such a way as to make browsing enjoyable.  Books of all types are found there, even in boxes on the floor, with much more upstairs.  A proper bookshop with knowledgeable friendly staff and with no intention of buying books today, indeed I rushed about the Oxfam Bookshop with a less than friendly member of staff, as books were not in my mind today, yet I found myself missing my bus having browsed with no intention of buying for forty minutes.  As however the shop is closing and all books a re Half Price I managed to buy three for a mere £5, less than I thought as I did not really calculate the cost as I browsed, very unlike me I hear you say.  A wonderful place to go, especially when you have not found a proper bookshop for many year.  Want an investment?  Buy this shop!

St John's Gate is all that remains of a Benedictine Abbey built C.1400.  After the 'Peasant's Revolt' in 1381 it was decided to strengthen their defences, how these folks helped the poor eh?  After the English Civil War and Henry VIII all that remains is this gate.  Does it go anywhere?  I know not as I had no time, or energy, to clamber over all the roads to find out.  Shooting into the sun is not easy, especially as I had to cut out the road signs that made fitting the gate into a picture.  

At the bus station I decided to stay alive by spending big on a coffee.  Normally I would not waste my cash on such, grossly overpriced coffee from the abundant cafe's never appeal to me,  yet as I was close to death after running around I considered it worth a gamble.  "Cheapest Coffee Please," I requested, and was given the cheapest (£1:50) by the helpful friendly chap at the stall. Poor man, his sales are increasing while the weather deteriorates but he also is suffering from the weather, which will make him deteriorate as time passes.  However the coffee was good and kept me alive, much to many others displeasure, and I may well head for this place next time I am in town.

Happily the bus home appeared as a double decker!  I smiled smugly to myself and soon lost the leering grin as other degenerates appeared from cracks in the pavement and boarded in their turn.  At least upstairs I got a decent view from the front, everything looks better from high up. However the bus decided to pick up all the old folks with free bus passes ("cough!").  They take their time boarding, each stop provided more of them, and indeed at each stop we stopped!  I was beginning to wonder if we would ever leave the town and arrive at the countryside again.  After a short lifetime, and I have had a few of those, we eventually found the open road.  This, naturally, was blocked by a rubbish lorry and the following parade of vehicles each one determined to get through in spite of the bus blocking their progress!  Bah!  

When we eventually arrived at the village with its narrow streets we found a white van man buying his lunch.  His van allowing cars past but not our bus.  The driver had to get out and chase him from 'Spar' before we could continue.  Arriving in town again and dreaming of lunch he stopped the bus on the outskirts and switched off the engine.  Sighs, deep and heartfelt, were heard throughout the bus.  We have all been there, the bus stops and an announcement, "We have broken down, a replacement will be along soon."  The bus companies use of the word 'soon,' might breach the trades description act!  However after a radio conversation including the words, 'red button comes on,' and 'bus station,' we began to believe we might make it home.

We did, and I decided that I will adjust the hours in which I travel, but I must travel back there, the bookshop closes in October and it is a great shop.  Now I must find some money for my next trip, and I forgot all about the jacket....

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The Height of Excitement!

Look, a bridge made out of bricks!  Not only does that reveal the height my excitement reached today it also shows how far I cycled.  Not far and watching the 'Tour de France this afternoon I noted my four miles fade somewhat when they said they had only another 122 kilometers to go!  That, as you will have worked out, is just under 76 miles.  The riders had been on the bikes for three hours and more when I turned it on.  My knees could not stand any more so I went out and sat in the park.

The park was filled with people having fun.  A Muslim group had organised a fun day and kids were bouncing off castles, stalls were offering sweets and meat, not together, and people in general were having a real good time in the sunshine.  Naturally that was not for me so I went back indoors and sulked.

Bah!

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Christchurch Priory

To get away from her indoors for a few hours out of the house he and I drove around the edge of town looking at the horrendous flooding that has occurred in this region.  Huge acres were covered in water, much more than in previous years.  The fields were covered in numbers of swans rather than horses.  Interesting to look at from the safety of the car, although not when the stuff swamped the roads, but not what I would wish outside my door.  Driving through some small interesting red bricked villages, never designed for vehicle traffic, we arrived eventually at Christchurch where we sauntered among the Boxing Day walkers braving the howling wind.  The swans eagerly gathered around those foolish enough to wear themselves out and sit on the sheltered benches for a sandwich.  The tide here was so high at one point it had actually reached as high as the benches, these were covered with the detritus left behind by the water.

Much wealth found around this area.  Even in the days of long ago this area was inhabited, it was well developed by the time the Romans arrived and later saw the Saxons move in.  It is thought a chap named Birnius erected a minster here around the late 600's.  This was demolished by the Norman chaps once they took over and in their humble manner they rebuilt the place in solid stone.  The church was part of the Augustinian Monastery which began in 1094 and lasted as such until Henry 8 dissolved the monasteries in1539 to find himself an heir. It Typical Norman stone arches stand proud and are always worth a look in my (very) humble opinion.

The 'quire' stalls are decorated with intricate carvings.  It was here the monks would worship during compline or matins.  Whether the constant construction and reconstruction bothered them I know not.  Today I notice the stalls have red cushions on them, I wonder if this was always the case?  

Christchurch took this name in the 12th century when the story of the 'miraculous beam' began.  Since the dissolution the church has served as a parish church for the area.  Just as well this is a wealthy area, the upkeep must be enormous.  It must always have cost a fortune to keep the fabric of the building in shape.  The number of masons and such like who have worked here must be enormous also.  The carvings found here are worth a look.  When in such places I cannot help but think of the thousands who have passed through for whatever reason in the past, some leaving their graffiti as they did so, others their memory is found on a tablet folks rich enough have placed on the walls.     

Today the vicar is a man who actually knows his God, something unusual amongst Anglicans I can tell you, however he is far from perfect, he is an American!  Imagine!   The Victorians naturally decided the vicar required a home equated with his status and a red brick house stands at the edge of the grounds.  As always I cannot ignore the lovely door, note the beginning of the yellow lines at the bottom of the steps.

What a way to spend Boxing Day, while stayed where she ought to, cooking lunch for our return.  What a great woman!  The one thing that keeps her inside at such times is the idea of passing by the waterside, especially in a cold wind.  She hates that.  Such trips ensure a constant supply of fabulous dinners.   

2012 ends soon and I will be glad to see the back of the year.  Hogmany will hopefully bring a better year tomorrow.  I hope so for all our sakes.   

   

Big Town Again

'The Marquis' is a pub on the North Hill created out of a 16th century dwelling.  Timber framed, black and white frontage I didn't bother picturing as the sun hid at the time.  The doorway caught my attention, pub doorways do catch some of my readers attention I know, and this featured two faces, one carved into each wooden corner.  Whether for decoration or some other reason I fail to say because as usual I can find no info on this building online, just details of the pub itself.  However it appears they have preserved much similar woodwork inside.  I have to plead poverty of course and walk past in spite of searing hunger and exhaustion.

The plastic pipe is not 16th century.

This big beast is 'Jumbo!'  He once supplied the towns water but now is undergoing renovation as a home for some lucky (wealthy) person.  I cut off the bottom as it is hidden behind wooden fencing etc belonging to the developers.  The last time I looked every ledge all the way up was home to the pigeon, masses of them, and I suspect the first job will be to insert netting to prevent that if someone will actually live there.  The view from the top must be fantastic!  The town spread out beneath you, the river leading to the estuary in the distance, the roads running off in all directions and the rain clouds hiding all this from view!  The Romans were not keen on the weather either!

The Romans were keen on building however and also they became very keen on defence at this spot.  What is shown here are the remains of a Roman Gateway known today as the Balkerne Gate. Having invaded successfully in 43 AD the Romans settled down in their small city then known as Colonia Victricencis (City of Victory, but you knew that.)  This settlement was unfortified at the time, which was unfortunate as the Roman in charge upset a woman after her man, the local King, died.  He took all she had, raped her daughters and killed one or two.  As we all know that sort of thing means trouble.  Boudica decided to vent her wrath by burning  Colonia Victricencis to the ground, along with all therein. The only building to survive was the base of the basillica, this now forms the base of the 'castle.' Rome was not best pleased. After removing the Queen of the Iceni and her threat a wall was constructed around the town. She visited in 60/61 AD and the walls have been dated to around 65-80 AD. Lucky for us this almost complete gate survived by being hidden by overgrowth which preserved it in reasonable condition. Around a hundred years ago the structure was dug out and forms a real historical connection to the Roman era we have all read about. During Victorian times the then owner of the pub next door demolished half the wall to allow his guests to see the new railway. This brought him much in the way of custom then and abuse from history lovers today! It was then the pub became known as the 'Hole in the Wall.' The floor of the gateway has been somewhat modernised to cope with visitors and occasional repairs have taken place but most of the wall dates from the first century and reveals the Roman thoroughness when it came to defence. They did enjoy their engineering did the Romans.

Before the pub landlord intervened the gate was double in size and would possibly have been dedicated to the Emperor Claudius.  He had visited while claiming the victory of 43 AD and then received the surrender of the Britons there.  He then hopped of home before he caught cold.  He also named his son Britannicus, and hoped he would become heir, however the lad  was bumped him off later to prevent this.  That nice Tacitus tells us more about that intrigue.  This gate, the oldest and best preserved, faced west and lined up with Londinium, a place you may have heard off.  The opening on the left, a round room, possibly became the guard room but I wonder if anyone actually knows?  Do tell if you know.  The lads needed somewhere to hide when Joe Public was around didn't they?   I love the red bricks used by the Romans.  There are vast numbers on this wall, and indeed on many ancient buildings throughout areas they dominated.  These strong bricks have been reused in houses, walls and church buildings and stand out well.  The soldiers would have been the ones building the wall.  This kept them occupied in between bashing any who may have decided to rebel.  In 'Agricola,' Tacitus tells of his father in laws work in taming this island.  he is accurate in every detail I am sure.   

You wish a close up?  Sure!

A few modern bricks inserted to stop collapse in places but the nature of the structure clear from the top of the gate.  The road outside sinks away but this came from a more recent development, nevertheless the wall plus the previous ditch dug by the Britons left the defenders high above anyone who wished to attack.  The name Balkerne comes from 'baulk,' as in Roman times the gate was baulked up, closed up and sealed, other gates having come into preferred use it seems.  Road widening and later building or renovations have removed almost all traces of previous gates.  One or two remnants remain but nothing as good as this gate.  During excavations in the sixties when the road works were undertaken archaeologists discovered a great deal about the Roman occupation and later times.  They decided to make use of the gate and as the roadworks involved a bridge over the roadway many people pass through today.

More, much more, can be found at Camulos and that is worth a read to those who find such things fascinating.  I recommend this.

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Camulodunum

Camulodunum was very cold today, in spite of the weather man claiming the cold snap was lessening.  Here we see the wall forming the first defensive barrier.  Behind the land slopes up to where I suspect another barrier once stood.  Well it would have had I anything to do with it!

Not exactly straight!  Age has indeed wearied this wall which has lasted many years.

 

The variety of stones includes many slim red tiles.  These are Roman bricks I believe but I am too busy to check it out and I wonder if this forms part of the wall created as part of the new defences after Boudicca's revolt. 

   

Can you make out the thin layer of ice that lies on top of the river?

I wondered what this was at first.  The design and brickwork was typical 1950's and must have appeared very modern at the time.  It forms part of the Fire Station and while I am unsure as to whether it is a chimney or part of the training routine I found it strangely atmospheric of its time!

I was amazed by the lamp standards in this area.  Very dated and very badly maintained.  Much more attractive than the concrete type that appeared in the 50's, or would be if painted once again.

My meeting there was once again with a different person.   Yet another has walked off to tour the world and I am now on my fourth worker, and I suspect this will change to another next time I trundle along there.  Still this lass has plenty of common sense and a great deal of the females normal attitudes, she nagged me, browbeat me and was totally unreasonable in her demands!  However I am much encouraged by the news that the employment situation will worsen and 'bosses are losing staff' claim the press.  It did not mention where they lose them however.

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The Waterfall

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Trundling out to exercise my knees I wandered down the path usually occupied early in the morning by folks walking their dogs. Being late afternoon the women were busy in the kitchens preparing their man's dinner which is what they were made for! This meant I could enjoy the bright sunshine, the warm air, and the raging waterfall I found there.  What a lovely spot, especially when the dog walkers were absent and the neds who leave their 'Carlsberg' cans on the waterfall have as yet not arrived. This once was a delightful wooded spot lying just under the hill on which the farmhouse stands.  In the 1850's the railway built the embankment that lies just behind the photographer but even this does not detract from the site itself, in fact in may enhance it.  However as the town has moved outwards the youth has followed on.  Kids of adolescent age use the slope of the embankment as a slide and their older brothers meet to share a can of beer to prove they are men at last. How many fall in while being macho I have failed to ascertain, although I would enjoy a photograph of such!


And look! A brick bridge!  How wonderful! I wonder had we got aerosol spray paint when young would we have scribbled our names on rail bridges?  I suspect we would but the only such vandalism I can recall came when I was in my late teens, and that referred to gang names.  There were certainly lots of such scrawls in Glasgow when we visited but in was only around 1970 they began to appear in Edinburgh. I fear we would have followed the crowd had it arrived earlier however.  I prefer the bridge with just brick rather than someones initials.   

In fact I am now convinced we would have vandalised with the rest.  This door is found at the back to door to the 'stair' in which we lived.  The initials dug into the door began with the 'Teddy Boy' neighbours (and my brother) in the fifties and have been continued since. I suspect this door has now been replaced with 'modern improvements' but you never know.  Graffiti has always been important to people.  Armies marching through the Cilician Gates near Tarsus (in Turkey) left their mark on the walls.  Greeks, Egyptian, Hittite and all put their mark, and those who could write left a statement of their intent as they passed. Sadly I understand the motorway construction of the eighties destroyed the ancient gates!   My dad once admitted that he and his mates had done the same to Stonehenge. Tsk!  The druids will not be pleased.

 
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More Doors

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The late Victorians and Edwardian's knew how to make an attractive doorway. In Edwards day there appeared to b an abundance of red brick which was used in houses like the one shown. 'Up north' in Manchester and other northern towns red brick was more abundant and appears to have been seen as something special by the architect, or builder, of 'Hillcrest' in 1904.  Of course then he would have had fewer houses around him and any photographer of the day may well have been more used to cycling up the hill and would not have been seen hanging on to the lampost as he considered how to photograph the doorway. He would also have avoided the car driver making rude noises as he past by.  

John Brown built his house much earlier and with bricks made in his own works. Several houses around here have similar layouts and I think are quite typical reflection of well to do businessmen's houses of their day. Brown used his own bricks and additions to the plan however like almost all such homes they now are occupied by offices or split into several flats. All rather sad really however if they were in a better area they would be worth going on about half a million. The doorway has a Greek influence in the pillars which has gone by Edwardian times. The rounded doorway has become square and fashions change every few years, especially if people have money to throw around. It goes without saying that my fashion has not changed for some time.....

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Cemetery

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While some find cemeteries eerie places I tend to find them interesting for a variety of reasons. This morning the sun shone, a Blue Tit (or was it two?) hustled back and forward from a very small hole in the wall as it fed the chicks inside. two local village dog walkers ignored me from a distance and I was left to enjoy the sunshine and blue sky. Peace and quiet in such places gives the opportunity to think.  This small churchyard, with once again a church comprised of millions of red bricks, contains many graves of the wealthier sort from Victorian and Edwardian times. You could tell by the bricked in tombs and iron gates placed there to stop grave robbers removing the corpse, only the rich could afford these. These are actually more for show than effectiveness as I suspect a grave robber wants a fresh corpse, not one weeks old. What is less obvious is the part of the graveyard where the poor were buried, this is unmarked, and who knows how many were laid therein?  For a while I mused over one unreadable stone, most were sadly, guarded by a low iron railing, as to the day of this funeral around a hundred years or so ago. Who was he/she? What was the weather? I could imagine the elaborate Victorian hearse, drawn by two horses (there is at least one still in use around here), the mourners gathered around, the vicar and the whole performance. I wondered if anybody today in this village knows who he is?   

Several memorials, such as the iron one seen below, contain the name 'Richardson.' It appears likely that family will have relatives still around here. However once the third generation pass on who can remember the deeds of those who lie here? Whether they were good or bad, whether they managed to contribute anything positive, are lost to us now.  So many lives and so many stories. These iron memorials abound around here. Many are like this round one, containing names and details, now difficult to read, with others being small crosses. I wonder if this a local idea? I have not seen them elsewhere. 

The setting, when the sun shines, is lovely indeed. The sun, the blue sky, the trees covered in birds and bees, and the green fields behind with growing crops. Another small gate leads to the fields and is irresistible to anyone with a camera! The only disappointment remains the fear of theft that locks all church doors around here. A wise precaution but a nuisance just the same.

  

 
It was as I was having a last look around I heard the singing. No-one was to be seen, all was quiet and peaceful. Birds flitted through the trees and a bumble bee buzzed around flowers left at a grave when I heard the song.

"Come and join us

 Come and join us"

 

I got on the bike and decided I had finished my exercise for today. I got home much quicker than I had got here......

 

 

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