A Day Out with Fly

I got out!

Yesterday, having been bullied into this by a woman, yes Fly of all people, forcing me out to meet her at a far off place called London.   I was looking forward to it mind.

So, I hobbled down the hill to the station intending to make Liverpool Street station for the first time in 6 years.  What an adventure!  Six years since venturing out, no wonder I am a fat slob.

Indeed it was 2019 when I last ventured out to Liverpool Street and tramped around for a short while.  I scribbled about that Spitalfields area at the time and now I was to find how it has changed since.

Anyway, Old Man's Card' in hand I headed for the ticket office which Greater Anglia told me would be open from 6 am-2 pm.  Of course it was closed.  This meant the ticket machine that I canny work.   I was seen looking over the shoulder of others attempting how to work the blessed creation.  I may have mentioned this before but I hate technology!  My turn came, I faffed about pressing this button and that, hoping it was the correct one, and not able to find a place for my old man card.  So I paid £30.10p for a return without money off.  Who do I complain to?  I mentioned this on the Greater Anglia Twitter site and got no response, and that is no surprise.  The Chinese man behind me moved towards the machine as I left.  I heard him ask, "How does it work?" and the woman standing there fiddling with her phone claimed she did not know.  I almost turned to help but left that to others heading towards the machine of doom.

I joined the usual motley collection of passengers ignoring one another.  Some sitting under the shade of the closed ticket office, others sitting or standing wistfully along the platform.  No-one spoke. Within a few moments a sun blessed 5 coach Class 720 'Aventura,' number  720503 rolled in.  These are a great improvement on the previous trains, however, my favourite seat was already taken by another.  How dare these people, don't they know who I am? ...Oh!  

The journey was smooth, quiet and delightful, and I had sat in the off side so did not have the sunshine blinding me all the way along. It was so long since I had been on a train and I was enjoying this.

As we sped smoothly along the one hour journey passengers, sorry, customers, came and went at various stations.  Some trailing those cases on wheels that appear the thing today, others making use of the old man card that I could not, some returning or departing to/from home, office or prison, others on a day out, gran and granddad taking the kids off for a day.  A normal day I suggest.  All was quite for the most part.  Outside green fields flew by, occasionally cows, horses or sheep could be seen.  Aged houses with accompanying red brick farms were simmering in the sun.  My favourite, near London, was an aged farmhouse and outbuilding next to a massive roundabout and flyover, with several lanes of traffic right at their front door.  What fun!

A gleaming Liverpool Street, a mass gathering of humanity, at least I think they are human, fussed.  They flapped and fretted as  people do in stations and airports, fearful of wrong platforms or missing their connections.  The desperate or foolish and certainly well paid were to be seen spending money at the various eating outlets around the station.  Prices too high for me to even contemplate searching the menu's.  The crowd was constantly moving bar those staring at the large timetable screen above.  The orange lettering flickering, occasionally offering a departure gate for a train to Norwich, Colchester or all stations in between.  

The line began in the 1840s and progressed onwards through some delightful and mostly flat countryside.  Now from the line we notice the vast growth of housing, and not cheap 'affordable' or council housing at that, all along the route.  Of course when the line opened similar large housing was appearing alongside the line, certainly many 1920/1930s housing is passed in the 'East End.'  The middle class glamour of the time faded with use.

The station itself does indeed gleam.  Workers clean up here and there, while many remember, as I do, the dark forbidding station of times past where the joke was the maintenance peoples main job was keeping the place covered in grime.  It is certainly not like that today.

Having left the train secure at the buffers, a place I have been myself for some time, I went in search of this woman Fly.  I only approached one wrong woman that morning, and no, not a young one, no time for that.  Eventually she found me.   

Together we went shuffling off to find somewhere to sit, eat and talk.  We made use of the escalator up stairs to Bishopsgate.  No Bishop here now of course, he was first around in the 7th century, the gate in the wall preceding him as the Romans built this wall after Boudicca passed through.  Thrusting our way through the City of London throng, still as considerate and loving as always, we passed the Bishopsgate Police Station, which explained all the police vans parked outside, and searched for Spitalfields Market that we knew lay around somewhere around here.  It appeared lost.  

When I recognised the statue of the Goat high above the plaza I knew we were in the right place, but we could no longer sight the market.  Of course not, a great high building had arisen since we last visited and this hid the market from sight.  No maps, or signs indicated where to go.  A Spanish workman indicated where the entrance was and we moved as quickly as possible before it moved again and entered.  

What a few years ago was a wide space filled with stalls, clothes, jewellery, self made art and of course street food stalls had turned into an expensive tourists trap.  Clothes, art and jewellery existed but at a price, while the food stalls had gone, and none were to be seen on the streets outside as before.  Increased rents had driven them away, as well as council bans it appears. 

However, a café/restaurant, call it what you will, I choose the word 'expensive,' was found on the left as we entered.  Here we found a table, good friendly service as they need the tips, and a chance to talk.  This was good, and a delight.  

Having known my friend Fly for many years via the blog it was delightful to sit and listen in real time.  We of course destroyed everybody else and put the world to right, yes, you were mentioned but don't ask how.  However, on musing through the online press today I did not notice any change, possibly they did not listen to our words?  Maybe tomorrow.  We munched our Pitta based meal, drank liquid, and allowed the young black waitress to chat, she was like so many such women I have known in London, I hope life goes well for her.   

It was very good chatting to someone I knew so much about.  Sometimes people in real life are not what they appear online.  Fly was herself and this was good!

In time we had to make a move, I rushed to pay obviously but she beat me to it.  This often used to happen to me when with people.  I appear very slow and lackadaisical when it comes to getting the wallet out, I know not why.  

On the return shuffle we noticed the shops now hiding the past market entrance.  Expensive outfits for those who read colour supplements for fashion advice, including a shop which was dedicated to female eyebrows!  At least four staff were on view so money must be made here.  Jackets £45, or two for £80 were available but we managed to resist any temptation here.  Others must have failed to resist as there were many people about and I guess Saturday would be a big day in this market.  Maybe street food will be available then? 

We passed the city slickers in fast suits carrying expensive takeaways and bottled drinks, the girls chomping delicately on sandwiches and diet drinks or expensive bottled water in the sunshine.  Many sat around the area amongst the elephant statues that abound round here.  Mum and Dad and 20 small ones I read.  These belong to the Herd of Hope, an organisation raising money for endangered elephants.  Sadly I could not find where to enter my donation.  

Back through the growing masses noting the people passing us.  Tourists, smart men going places, office girls, tourists street people, a large man somewhat scruffy and unkempt in appearance came through the crowd barking his opinions to someone only he could see.  I thought how much he looked like me as he passed.  That is my future!  A woman well wrapped up wielded a cardboard sign stating 'Need £18  for Board,' but few believed or stopped to care.  Neither did we, trying to keep one another from falling was hard enough.  

Traffic raced by down the A10, the ancient route towards Kings Lynn and on to York.  Once a busy highway it is now a much busier highway, but few go to Kings Lynn.  As we passed 'Dirty Dicks,' I thought much more of this crowd and that pub is as far as we will go.  Then the traffic halted and we joined the race to cross before the lights changed again.  Naturally, at the station the down escalator did not work.  Who puts stations downstairs anyway?    

Fly and I parted here.  It had been such a short, but such a good time.  It made me glad to have ventured out of the Hermitage and shuffled down the line for this.  All that prayer to ensure it went well worked!  

The lift taking her downstairs to the underground reminded me of Dr Who.  Maybe as the doors closed it grew in size?  I began to wonder if we would ever see her again!  So, I was left, abandoned in a great bustling station.  I Checked the train times I then proceeded to find a working escalator that enabled me to get a picture of the station.

You will note I managed to get the Great slab of the GER Railway War Memorial in at the side.  

Again, the place was awash with movement.  The escalators never empty.  People standing over their bags staring wistfully at the screen high above, coffee being slurped at many overpriced venues around, or held in hands as tickets are inserted into entrance slots in a rush as the train is about to leave.  Others with time and money wander around the upper floor window shopping to pass the time.

Not me.  

I entered the W.H. Smith shop and purchased, via another blasted self service machine, a bottle of sparkling Highland Spring water which cost me £2:89.  It was some time before I realised I had grabbed the 'Still' water and not the 'Sparkling' stuff.  Bah! 

Soon I was sitting on a train heading home.  I took the first one to change at Chelmsford.  Anything can happen to hinder trains so I get as far as possible to avoid disaster or accompanying crowds.  

This train was busy but quiet.  

The towers of Thatcher's Britain glinted far away in the sun.  Far away from the train and I fear far away from real life.  Towering above London and weeping above London as Donald Trump does his best to ruin their bonus this year.  I sympathise, don't you?  

As we approached Stratford she reiterated her message once again over the Tannoy.  "If you see anything that is not right text this number, See it, Say it, Sorted."   I was strongly tempted to text about the building that reach unto the skies over Stratford these days.  The ones pictured are the best, all around ghastly revelations from young architects on Cocaine reveal the damage caused by such habits.  Many look half finished but have been there since the Olympic nonsense was placed here.  Behind us a football stadium, of no use to a proper football team, dominates the skyline in the far distance, a far distance for those who have to walk there every other week.  

I noticed work was continuing to clear land and build, I could not see what this was going to be.  However, on the way back I noticed several tower blocks from the late 50s and early 60s in a state of undress.  Clearly these dated blocks are going and soon more artistic talent will be ruining the neighbourhood once again.

I passed through here around 45 years ago when all around was rail tracks, electric pylons, occasional worn buildings and abandoned vehicles, nothing else.  It looked better then than it does now.

 

Look!  A field with cows in it!  I was so happy just to see such a view after so long.  The cows themselves did not comment as I passed I must say.  A much better view than that found in Stratford.

At Chelmsford I changed for my own train following on 12 minutes behind.  I took the opportunity to photograph passing trains and the renown signal box.  This train I know not, I thought it was the Norwich to Liverpool Street but in fact it appeared empty.  Who knows?

This signal box is famed because of the action of one man, signalman Frederick Herbert Hunt.  During 1943 he remained in the damaged signal box, stopping trains heading through Chelmsford as a bombing raid passed overhead.  The town suffered many raids as a Ball Bearing factory was based here.  In fact it had been moved elsewhere but the raids continued.  Some 50 persons died this night alone.  I'm sure I read somewhere that the signalman also died, however, the train stuffed with passengers survived.

I took this shot in spite of the power crazed female rail employee telling me to 'get behind the yellow line.'  It was as if I had never been near a railway before.  I suppose the speeding train, 5 miles an hour at this point, was dangerous, and she expected me to lean on it or some such.  A uniform turns them into a corporal.  

Another quiet train, more announcements heard many times, and usually ignored.  More glancing at the  screen above helpfully informing passengers where seats were available.  More checking the time and being surprised I was almost home in one piece.

 I left the train and slogged my way up the Matterhorn like rise to the town centre.  It used to be a slope, now it is a major climb.  Who increases the height of roads round here?  I'd like a word.  The weariness almost made me stop of at the Weatherspoon's on the way up.  However, watching one of the regulars entering I changed my mind.  It's that sort of pub.

I passed a fire engine doing I know not what.  However, he was being ably assisted by two young men eager to join in.  The firemen appeared willing to let them.

So, up the stairs, find I had no food out, the servant had forgotten to take something from the freezer.   I was certainly not going out again.  So, make do and mend it was.  Then for some reason I fell asleep...

Dreich Market

So, I wandered out unwillingly once again just in case something special and indeed useful could be found in the market.  Failure did not surprise me.  I, being half dead mentally, forgot most things I wanted in the shop, trailed a wee bit through the handful of stalls, and raced back home via the park.  A wee walk among green is always good for the mind.  What?  Who said 'You need to visit a jungle in that case?'  Who?

It was indeed a bit dreich.  The clouds behind me much darker than seen here.  This of course did not stop the dog walkers, not that the dogs would allow them to remain indoors whatever the weather.   
I was trying out this wee camera I bought cheap.  It appears to do the job but it is not great.  I wanted it as a wee camera in my pocket but it is in fact quite heavy a much bulkier than I had thought.  It also demanded a new battery, which I thought I had but did not, which meant awaiting one in the post.

Similarly, I now required a battery charger which I did not have, the one I possessed did not fit this type.  Not unusual to find tech problems in this house.  However, it may work better when the sun shines, which may happen next week, or the week after...

Fungi, Tardis and Sweets

 

So far, it has been the usual confused day for me.  

Last night the laptop would not switch off.  So, after several late night attempts I left it to switch off by itself.  This morning it was still on, the sleep mode had come on, but now it would not connect to the WiFi. 

Troubleshooters were aroused, the yellow ethernet cable advised and once employed this worked well, but the thing was not connected properly.  

Then followed many attempts with troubleshooter and a restart.  Once restarted it now works fine, without ethernet cable filling the desk.  All appears back to normal.

Why?  Why does it do this to me?  There is no reason for this?   Grrrrrrrrr....   

The fungi pictured I found growing on a grassy patch behind the old Registery office.  Now being run as a kindergarden no-one bothers to cut the grass.  I guess Dave could identify these specimens but to me they are just Toadstools.  I agreed with a passing woman that we would not be eating these any time soon.

 

A late afternoon wander around town where the crowds gather for the 'Xmas Lights' being switched on.  Every child in the town was here, far too many people, and a few perplexed dogs.  I pushed, and was pushed about by the crowds, willing to mix it as not long after leaving home an Audi driver came close to hitting me.  I wished I had said more at the time but he kept moving.  Thus Irked, I wandered about.

 

Sweets abound here.  This stall is a regular who offers bags of teeth destroyer.  He remains considerably cheaper than the fancy stalls found today.  Candles, cakes and things I canny afford nor indeed desire.  Many have been before so must have made money, and Xmas arriving will do them some good.

 

Being FREE entry I popped into the museum for a peek.  I have not wandered about there for some time.  The space exhibition looked good, including this Tardis.  I refrained from opening the door as I was not sure where I would end up.  There used to be lots of these around Edinburgh, now almost all that remain have been turned onto coffee stalls!

Dreich Market

Another glorious Satuday Market build up, another glorious wash out in the rain.  Tee Hee.  I just glanced at the prices as I passed, ignoring those that did not show prices, and went to the Museum where I found similar items reduced.  That is much more my cup of tea.

I only went out as the sun began to appear, soon to be drenched as it hid itself once again.  I had to visit the smiling staff at Tesco to fill a space or two, they smiled at me, grimmaced at the customers, as I foolishly jumped in behind two women and a man with a kid not used to shopping.  I could have walked home and had another breakfast in the time I waited, too late to move elsehwere.  

There again I was given a discount in the museum, but do not let the boss know. 

 

Pizza in the rain anyone?  

I made it home, missed the postman, redirected the parcel I missed, and ate the wrong things for lunch.

After that I went to finish sealing the bath.  I had scraped it out the other day, left it to dry, was unable to return to the job until today because of sloth other engagements and when I made use of the seal gun I found it was dead!  Too late in the day to go up the road and buy new seal, another job for Monday.  And I discovered my spare Laptop does not have the TPM required being 9 years old!

Rather typical of life innit?

So, it's back to watching T20 cricket until England appear to be winning against Australia.  So I turn it off and watch poor English football instead...  

Babbling...

Saturday morn saw me wandering about with a bank card in my hand.  I had decided to spend money on a decent mattress after all.  No chasing around all the shops I returned to the man who gave me the last dead one around 18 years ago and spent £270 on a new one.  This one is much firmer, although he forgot to mention how long the guarantee s for, and on Monday he will deliver and help me up the stairs with the thing. It will be fun as I can hardly get me up there and then there is the tight corner to negotiate!
But all that money.  
I came home and sat trembling at having to pay put more than I normally do.  The emergency fund was put to use and that too is shaking badly!  Ah well, it has to be done, and so it now has been done.  I hope this one will last 20 years, I will not care about a few sharp springs coming through by then, if I'm still here.

Quite who the dancers were I know not but they offered some sort of traditional English dance, found somewhere in drunken England's distant country harvest celebrations I suspect.  Whether debauchery followed as it did in the past is not clear as I hurried on before the rain came and left them to it.
The men played their tunes, the woman banged the drum in a constant and very loud beat and the people danced.  All very simple and while the drum would certainly go back many centuries I am not sure what instruments would be available in times past.  The accordion came into being in the early 1800's, the banjo of sorts appeared in the 1700's and may be based on instruments found in Africa long ago, but wind instruments go back well into ancient days, nose flutes (disgusting thought) were common in Greece as indeed were the people who played them and I suspect the two main instruments would have been found in many rural areas, possibly travelling minstrels would make a living touring the Harvest areas and leading the jollity.
This morning I was remembering the Harvest Festival back in Edinburgh concerning a time in the mid 50's when I saw a great display, including a whole wheatsheaf standing proudly there, a huge display and I realised that this was shortly after the end of rationing.  Folks then knew about rationing which ended in 1954 so such a display must have been wonderful not long after.  These days such churches are more concerned about those abroad starving or lacking fresh water than themselves and quite right too.  Our offerings today, and people brought a great deal, went to the local foodbank, another result of Tory austerity and the disgraceful removal of benefits from the needy.  I was told the local foodbank had increased demand during the holidays, free school meals not being available some folks could not feed the kids.  The Conservative leader and her party need to read the book of Amos and soon.    

Market Drizzle

As it is wet, drizzly and not so hot the market has a special day.  Once again the wide variety of grossly overpriced foodstuffs bring out the crowds (Where do they get the money?) and as a special treat this month there are a few stalls selling the kind of overpriced hand made items women buy, whatever they are.  

I am always tempted to the bread but the price £3 or so a loaf puts me off.  It looks good and probably is good stuff but expensive being twice and more the price in Tesco's.  I suspect the variety of cakes available are also good but to fattening for my calorie controlled diet (with chips).  

   
Once again the car folks brought out their pride and joy into the drizzle.  A different crowd from last time and I suspect that when the sun shines regularly there will be more of these on show.  I am not clear as to why that guy has his bonnet up, possibly he broke down, possibly he is showing off his clean well tended engine.

Somehow I managed to spend nothing but a few quid on mealworm pellets for the Starlings that are breeding just now.  The brutes have emptied the feeders already this morning and trying to empty them again this afternoon.  A single Blue Tit has been spotted there but few other wee birds.
Guarding my money carefully I came limping slowly home and have spent the day watching football!
What more can a man want?
Oh yes, a woman to iron a shirt for tomorrow...

Siberian Saturday

Another Christmas Saturday, another event in the town.
Shivering while playing Christmas music concerning snow and reindeer will not warm up the band.  I hope they have hot toddies at their sides as their fingers must be frozen. The fellow at the back has been somewhat excited by the songs however! 

The audience could not restrain their enthusiasm as you can see, the big man in red emerging from his grotto to listen to the band.  Possibly he wishes to avoid being inside alone with kids in these days of lawyers adverts and tabloid journalists!  Sadly dealing with kids on one level has not changed but on another PC attitudes and neurotic mums make it impossible to be alone with a child.
Like me many men will not talk to kids who talk to us innocently, however if one required help I, like most, would step in, whether others thought this right would have to wait for later.

The market swarmed as it did last week, grumbling people, cold stallholders, far too few stalls.  A very good opportunity to sell the town has fallen flat with poor planning and lack of experience.  Mind you I went to two of the usual stalls and obtained what I required.  I avoided the newer trendy ones as it was home made stuff, jewellery and the like, nice in itself but not for me.  
One Saturday to come, Christmas almost Eve, must do better. 

Note the cheery smiles...

My shopping ended at the sweet stall I usually ignore.  These cheap delightful chocolates in a presentation plastic jar will do the job.  It would have been better to find other items more appropriate but they don't exist in this little town, and I was tired and cold!

Slaving Away Saturday

Saturday ought to be one of my many days of rest and instead I have twice wandered slowly around the town searching for things and also spent time in the museum.  I wandered in there out of habit and found the lass once again on her own.  This is not a good situation and I hung about for a while as I was in no hurry and enjoyed the chat.  I heard about the reasons for the failure of the Christmas lights, the chap responsible left the job and no-one bothered to replace him.  This meant nobody headed up an organised Christmas, no money, no working together and no efficient result.  A wasted opportunity to put the town on the map.

This however was not the only turkey in town.  This guy and his mate spent much time showing off to the kids and indeed frightening them by his cry.  "Gobble Gobble" sound OK on tv or in cartoons but when a bird yells it in your face many kids ran for their lives.  I followed them!  

The 'little donkey' was not that keen to meet folks, he spent much time with his head stuffed in his feed.  Reindeer last week, donkeys, turkeys and sheep this week, I suspect the animal lovers who grumbled about having them in the town are at this moment writing to the local paper demanding these beats are put out into the fields.  Actually by this time they probably are, or tucked up nicely for the night.

The whole point of having such attractions is to bring folks into the town centre, this however is harmed by a lack of political control.  The council will not reduce the rates, small shops canny survive and we now have many very good charity shops but wandering about the town today I realised how little is on offer beyond the basics.  Sure some big shops have premises but most are loss leaders and many have closed, that leaves two big supermarkets and many disgruntled shoppers.   Big towns 15 miles away benefit.

   
I was much tempted to visit the 'Bull' as I passed but not only was it crowded my knees indicated home was preferred.  The 'Bull' has stood there at least since 1769 when it was 'licensed' as an Inn but I expect it operated as an Inn before that.  The shape of the building makes me wonder if it was originally a house at the edge of town, possibly a farmhouse, the 'Nags Head' standing me as I took the picture certainly was a farmhouse.  Much changed over the years and extended into the one time Saddlers next door it is one of the towns most 'popular' pubs.  Few pubs are not popular and at least this one has not been closed down by police request as one or two others have been.  
Until the 1960's the pub was popular with farmers and their men who came in on Wednesday and Saturday for the market.  Cows were still seen here in the 60's and in times past small stockholds would operate outside the pubs, sheep or pigs held therein.   A lovely aroma for the townsfolk.

Christmas Market

Having spent time yesterday sorting the gift and Christmas cards I was somewhat irritated to discover another niece hiding in the hills.  This meant I had once again to trudge needlessly into Tesco earlyish this morning, passing the few brave souls setting out their stalls for the Christmas Saturday sales, and rush round Tesco accidentally spending another £10 on things forgotten or just wanted this morning.  On the way I posted three more cards and have now half completed the job that I usually have completed by the 1st of December to everyone's annoyance.   Then I discovered I need some more cards as the ones I have will not do for the folks awaiting.

My neighbours surviving flowers, three at least, are holding up well considering it is December and she has spent more on the bottle than on them this year.  Only once did the ambulance call this year...

After breakfast I sauntered round the town looking at the completed stalls and in the town centre I found this Pixi (?) blowing up balloons and twisting them into shapes for the kids.  One of life's simple yet easily destroyed pleasures that has delighted kids since balloons were invented.  The rubber balloon was invented it appears in 1824 by Michael Faraday when experimenting with hydrogen gas however a man named Thomas Hancock developed what we now know as balloons.  
In days of yore pigs bladders and cat intestines were used to make a balloon of sorts, good luck to you I say!

 
Food for the hungry (I didn't note the prices but a later stall was selling pies at £4 each!

A pub in the high Street!  We don't have many of them do we...

I saw a sign saying "£6 a Tankard" and wondering what they meant by 'Tankard' I wandered on.

Down the far end someone was singing "It'll be lonely this Christmas" and listening to him I knew why.  He was someone famous using the Elvis song to get a Christmas pension, he will succeed but not near me.

Naturally with so many kids out for the great Christmas switch on (apart from the High Street there is a technical problem) someone would be on hand to offer them a delight for a small sum of gold.  There were many wandering around holding bright shaped things that Gran and Granddad (mostly granddad) had paid for.  I never got one.

Nowhere near as many stall as last year, clearly some did not pay well, but one or two kids things still arrived.  

On the main stage something from 'Heart FM' was singing very loudly and in a very high voice "What about Looove, What about Loooooeeeoove" over and over again.  On her fortieth repetition, I did not notice any verses in between, it crossed my mind of an explanation as to why she was not receiving the 'Loooove' she desired.  As she finished many in the audience applauded.  I remain unclear whether this was because of the singing or because she ceased singing.  'Heart FM Essex' is not a station I listen to as I have a musical ear and I do not wish it damaged.
Such events fill a gap in small towns and please the few decent shops that remain.  I wandered of to buy a few more cards and then into Sainsburys for the chips I forgot this morning and left them to it. 
I expect similar stalls next week will be out and possibly with Christmas lights up everywhere, but I probably will not notice...