"We Apologise for the Delay..."

The sun is shining, it's everywhere, don't have no worries, don't have no care so I trooped off to the bus stop for what the internet told me was the 10:29 bus.  Naturally the Bus station indicator read 10:33.  I waited, he waited, then she also waited but nothing happened.  We stared at the bus station entrance but that did not work until I got fed up of warming myself amongst this lot and headed down to the railway station where I changed my tentative plans and reached for my old man 30% off card.  Colchester it was then and he comes my train as I changed at Witham running on time to take me to my destination.
My knees were not too keen however.

This was not my real intention today as I had t come here many times a few years ago and did not find much enthusiasm for the place.  I had less enthusiasm for the adolescents from the collage wandering about like 16 year old's.

 
The Mill here on the Colne River has been in use at least since the 1100's and possibly from before that.  Most of the time it dealt with 'corn,' that is wheat to you and me, but occasionally had other uses.  Colchester of course goes back to the Romans and before them possibly the site was used early after the last ice age 8000 years BC.

You can see from this how effective the hillside offered a defensive perimeter.  After the Romans rather stupidly did not organise such defences Boudica destroyed the place and Mr Emperor ensured such a mistake did not happen again.  Much altered since it shows just how difficult an attack from ground level would have been.  

Being one not renowned for intellectual stimulus I continued to walk very slowly in heat reaching some say 29%.  The walk around the castle park is indeed long and while my body ached I found I just had to see what was around the corner.  I knew a pill box stood nearby having found it 20 years ago and here it remains.  Blocked off now and impossible to enter it was part of the UK's defences against that nice Mr Hitler who did not bother to visit. 

Situated here on a bend of the Colne it offered the defenders a good view of the river, and I suspect most of the trees had been removed then to give a clear sight to them, it also offered a very good chance of death if attacked as not other pill box stands nearby to cover, unless it stood on the other bank among the new housing estates.

 

If indeed the trees were scrubbed in 1940 they have returned well in the years since.  All around the trees tower overhead and these men in particular impressed me with their height.  That may have had something to do with the blue sky and burning sun behind them of course.

Now remember I just wanted a dawdle in the sun not a twenty mile hike and here I was, at two miles an hour, hurpling along further and further from the railway station and knowing full well that I had miles to go back to get home.  It was however the old desire to see what was round the corner once again that made me limp on.  How stupid can an individual be?  I was aware of many things forgotten since the last sunshine many moons ago.  I ought to have worn the sunglasses glasses not these ones, I ought to have a hankie to wipe away the perspiration that flowed so easily, and I ought to have ensured I had bought a lighter jacket from a charity shop for the summer.
The only bright spot was buying a 59p bottle of fizzy water to carry in my pocket, usually I forget that.

 
This huge building was working when I last passed this way 20 years ago.  The water, with a tidal reach of about 20 feet from what I could guess, was full of suitable working boats.  It is of course now flats!

Next door the building, called 'The Mill' was an interesting sight, also flats and possibly some other noisy use.  I did not venture round to look.

Camulodunum was built on the hill and here at the bottom near the quay stood a variety of aged houses.  The river has been in use for thousands of years and the Romans made good use of it at this point to bring in goods from Gaul and troops from wherever.  This house appears to have been quite substantial in itself and had another 'front' added on to the side facing the road at a point later in time. 

This is more typical Essex substantial house, one that began with a 'hall' and added things as they prospered over time.  I suspect it goes back to the 16th century at least.  

It looks like some rich man has benefited the poor by providing 'almshouses' here.

In the days before Thatcher, sorry the benefits system people often stuck their hands in their pockets to aid the poor, a system that does not exist today because the media through constant propaganda have convinced the nation at large that those on benefits are all scroungers, even if their legs have been blown off and an arrow sticks out of their head, they are fit to work!  Much more of that after Brexit!

The main building supplied all their needs although i suspect this is now accommodation of some sort and the whole place may no longer be for the poor but for the very rich!   It is important when wandering about to look up as above the road there are always signs from the distant past to see.

By now I was aware of how far I still had to travel and my muscles were informing me of my stupidity in a manner worthy of a medical student.  I ached and ahead of me lay 'East Hill' and like most hills this one went upwards.  Not the names, nothing fancy here, 'East Hill,' 'North Hill,' I suspect that is the military influence, still strong as until recently a huge army complex, now housing, lay in the middle of town.  I think I am right in saying the Para's still have places here though this time I saw no army vehicles whatever.

This building intrigued me, a small 'church' looking style of housing with unreadable words above the window.  However my bleary eyes made out the word 'Orphanage' in time, yet another example of church people doing the work the state now does, possibly better!  It was also used as a girls school and was paid for by a Mr A. Diss and cost him £700 to erect!

No charitable person appeared offering to carry me up this hill past the run down aged housing come shops that have stood there for hundreds of years.  They were not built to withstand such traffic rumbling past though the ones on the other side of the road were better built and mostly of a Georgian or Victorian time.

Foolishly I watched as a bus stopped at the bus stop and the driver remained there in an attempt to fit into his timetable.  Foolishly I ought to have whipped out the bus pass and got myself up the hill.  I didn't!  He drove on.
However on the other side sat a large once glorious building now refurbished and possibly an office complex featuring this fine bird high above the road making it obvious what the original company stood for, well not to me!   
In fact the area here is the 'Eagle Gate' one part of the towns defences.  The building was built by the 'Colchester Brewing Company' in 1888 indicating a flow of cash had arrived since 1828. 

Beer was beginning to lodge itself into my temperance mind as I ploughed on uphill.  The I noticed this Georgian (?) building squashed alongside two more showy offerings.

Above the door we see yet another image of Jesus tending his sheep.  The image of the shepherd not really working too well in this concrete jungle in which many live but the fact remains true.  This also must have been an offering towards improving or teaching people, probably young folks.  Do similar works exist today?

Almost at the top of the hill I found St James the Great standing ready to welcome me with open arms, which it didn't last time I passed as it was closed.  This church like so many others would open daily but folks do tend to wander in and pinch things so it was open this time for a small service in the side chapel.  A very nice chap at the entrance encouraged me to enter even though the service was almost finished and so I did and thankfully sat in a pew at the back and discovered my body preferred sitting to walking uphill.

As you might expect this cavernous church has stood here from around the 1200's and most likely a wooden Saxon building stood here before that.   I sat and listened at a distance unwilling to wander about as the wee service continued in the corner.

  
I was hesitant about photos also in this high church anglo-catholic church but I managed one or two.
These long poles carried by the verger during parades in such churches are often delicate artistic items.  However reading about the local church in the 1600's we see the verger/beadles often using their staffs to ensure unruly youths ((forced into church by law and uninterested in what was taking place) paid attention and kept the noise down.  Such churches often have graffiti on pillars as the crowd stood through the service and often found ways to keep themselves occupied.

 
 I left the friendly Beadle and made my way into the edge of town for lunch which comprised one £3:90 worth of Colchester No1 in the rather trendy 'Three Wise Monkeys' 'Tap House.'   Here I was served by an attractive friendly young woman who along with her friend helped lift me out of the soft clinging chairs used to trap folks into staying all night.  At that price right enough I could have bought food!

Staring out the pub window I cogitated on my return to the railway station.  Either through the crowded hot town (always a 'town' here not a 'city' as they wish to keep the dubious accolade of 'England's Oldest Town.'  I decided again my aches crying out to get the bus to wander through the castle grounds, a mistake by the way as it was downhill and I could hardly walk properly as I went down the slope.  Fool that I am!  

After a slog through the uninteresting boring hot streets full of decent houses I took what I considered a short cut and got to the station as quick as if I had gone the other way.  Here announcements informed me as I drank my £2:50 Americana coffee provided by the busy yet friendly lass in the 'Pumpkin' cafe on the platform, that the train was late, very late as it happens, because of signalling problems.  Surely I thought others would also be late until I realised this one came from a different starting point.  'Slow' is a word many of my teachers often used, one or two used other words.  However my carriage arrived as we see here and happily the crowd climbed aboard and I found myself sitting in a suitable seat to get the full benefit of the sun shining through my window, jolly!

 
I have to change trains as on the outward journey and was greatly cheered to find I had arrived seven minutes after my hourly train had departed!  Once again I sat in the sun watching the girls trains go by, once again near to the arrival of my train the repeated announcement that the '15:29 for Colchester Town is running late de to technical difficulties.'  This was running also in front of mine which meant my 15:35 was going to be late as indeed it was becoming the '15: sometime or other' when it arrived.  
I entertained myself by taking pictures of the rabbit in the distance chewing away at the abundance of vegetation on the remains of the one time Maldon line.  No trains here since Beeching and few before that.

The train speedily made it to home arriving at the time he ought to be departing.  I was home by 16:12 aching, hot and bothered, and desperate for food, rest and a massage from an attractive young woman.  One of these has not arrived.
I ache, I was daft in walking so far in the sun, my head is like a beetroot and as hot as an oven, and I am not planning going anywhere tomorrow, bar Tesco that is.  However the change in plans was enjoyable, I love the train!  I met good people, saw interesting things and got out of myself for a while, much needed at that.  So I am pleased but the pictures are snapshots as I was too weary to compose properly and just snapped things I liked.  I missed a great deal.  However it was a good day in the sun.

A Gray Day

A gray day that saw me wandering about our limited town looking for a Teddy Bear.  People keep having kids and the only gift is a Teddy Bear and could I find one?  No!  There were varieties of soft toys, some affordable, but no actual Teddy Bear available.  I was about to give up and search online when I passed the charity shop with one in the window, cheap but nice.  I had to check it was a special buy and not a second hand thing, I am not that mean, but it was indeed a special purchase so in the pocket it went and soon, after I have adapted the price ticket, it will be prepared for handing to the happy worn out mum. 

 
Once I decided to search the web for Teddy Bears I discovered just how many people sell them, often hand made, jolly expensive but decent bears.  There is a big business in old bears often worth vast sums of money.  New bears, Steiff of Germany is a great name, retail for over a hundred or more pounds, and vintage ones cost thousands!  If I ever have money I will ignore banks and out my money into vintage Teddy Bears and these will definitely keep their value.  

 
Ma hoose...honest!

Home from Home

I have been scrambling about under the furniture, searching the sofa and counting the pennies in the cider jar trying to put together sufficient money for a deposit on a house.  So far I have £32:23 pence and a one Shekel coin!  I am unsure this will be sufficient.
The thing is the man downstairs is moving out  After ten years or more of little contact (we fell out quite easily years ago) he has scraped together money enough to buy something somewhere.  This was helped by bumping off a relative quite recently and obtaining a good amount to enable the purchase.  I hope all goes well for him but I hope more for a decent newcomer into the building and not a couple of loud young folks pretending they are married, that always leads to noise, argument and the rest.  

 
The local rag tells us the average cost of a home around here is now £293, 251.  They also helpfully inform those willing to pay such an amount what they will need to earn thus:  "Braintree, hourly wage £19.13, weekly wage £717.38, yearly salary £37,303.50." That's £19 an hour!  OK, you take along a girl friend and ensure she is working but you still require £10 an hour and to also ensure you can keep your job.  Sickness, unemployment, pregnancy and other unfortunate events will surely hinder the income somewhat and we have not mentioned food, bills or life itself yet.  
Just how do people manage to buy?

This all goes back to the vile Thatcher, the woman who sold off all the council houses as well as most of everything else and forced the nation to rent expensively or pay through the nose for accommodation they could not afford.  This led to the inevitable as people sold when prices rose, moved into more expensive homes and when the economy collapsed they were out on their ear and called scroungers by the Tories.  
Harold MacMillan, a Tory who understood deprivation, was responsible for creating three million homes in the aftermath of war, he watched as she sold them off and began another era of deprivation.
The daughter of Thatcher, one George Osborne, a man deprived of her intellect which tells us something, knew how to make personal money and took her policies to their logical conclusion by ceasing to spend on public requirements, privatising them all and cutting aid to those who need it.  Under he and his toff pal David Cameron the number of food banks operating at life's bottom end rose from a mere 66 to well over a thousand and it is still rising!  What is worse is that the working poor are making use of them not just the benefit scrounger (@Daily Mail).

Two things strike me as interesting here, one is the fact that in this county our area is the cheapest!  You require more, much more, to buy elsewhere in the county up to almost £49 an hour in the dearest areas.  Where do they get the cash? 
Now obviously nearer London the Rock guitarists, actors, and celebs you wish to avoid can splash out on mock Tudor mansions costing a million or two, those laundering money from abroad may wish to remain near the airport and others come from money dating back to the days of the wool trade and know how to fiddle the books in a manner unknown to those of us from North Edinburgh. Even so the number of ancient houses once the lodge of farm labourers that are priced at around half a million is enormous and folks gazzump to by!  
I see little opportunity to obtain one of the houses I have eyed up recently and I have put my name on the local Housing register in case something happens with my landlord, decent though he is his age is in the 80's depending on who you speak to and what may happen we know not.  A brief glance at the available properties on offer show none in this town and all with many people ahead of me in the queue.  
What I require is my sister to keep buying those lottery tickets, win a fortune and pass some on to me.  This was a hope for a while now dashed as she now puts the lottery money on the mantelpiece and saves it!  The good Lord will however look after me and I have had 21 years of relative peacefulness in this place.  It has been a vast improvement on London and I trust him to lead me on. That said Brexit will lead to much deprivation in the land and this place will soon be a palace in comparison to those losing their homes and filling cheap boarding houses.  I have been fortunate so far, have you?  

Holiday Monday

Morning arrived quite early today as it often does.  The early sun inspired me so much that long before eight I was engaged in exercising my knees to a painful level.  The stretching ensured that I had therefore to sit and ache for a while before stuffing myself with peanut butter covered brown (organic) bread before realising this was not the best option.

In an effort to avoid stiffening up I went for a walk down the hill.  Here stand houses dating back to the 13 -1400s.  This one stands close to a similar effort that forms the back end of a house on the corner.  I suspect that these once served workers from the nearby fields or possibly in the many weaver connected trades that flourished down this street.  I also suspect that once these had thatched roofs and were not so dainty as they now appear.  I suspect also they cost less that the vast price they go for today.  
Street Details

Essex houses, made of timber and plaster, often have patterns such as this on the walls sometimes covering the entire wall.  Whether the design has any significance I cannot say having found no information of the houses I pictured.  How long they have been there is also hard to tell.  These building go back several hundred years and have found many uses, Inns, weavers, dyers, various cloth trades (the 'Bays and Says' of the Flanders folk who worked here in the past were famous. No one receiving these goods checked them as they knew they would be correct and they would not be cheated.) and of course one pub remains but the shops have gone with the weavers and their cloth.

   
This fellow and his mate has been gracing the doorway off 'Wentworth House' since the 17th century but the house itself probably began back in the 1400s.  Over the years, as with all the others, it has spread from a mere hall, added rooms, workrooms and then another storey on top and until quite recently was in a mess.  Restoration has given someone an expensive but historical work of art.  

The smaller houses go back a bit also, these have interesting but not always genuine ancient items upon them.  Genuine in age maybe but possibly in some cases recovered from elsewhere.  This is one of three in a row, well decorated, brightly painted and costing a small fortune with a very busy main road outside the window.  Why do people buy there?

My limbs told me to head homeward so I eased my eyes by bathing them in greenery by the river.  This is a well kept spot but someone had chucked some files away at one place.  I was tempted, not to greatly, to jump in and seek my fortune but managed not to.  

Someone has been tending these trees for many years but I know not who.  This was merely a place for the river to overflow (sorry Texas) and now contains recent housing costing just under half a million.  I am sure they all have a  stock of sandbags at the rear nowadays.  

The reflection makes this picture a bit abstract and it takes some looking to understand it.  Lovely and quiet today, no kids yelling, no couples groping, no passers-by,  just the birds and the slow flowing river.  Flowing so slow I thought it had stopped.  Recently there has been a plan to put a number of (expensive) houses across the other side.  This has caused upset and will certainly spoil this walk and the view over the other side.  Money however speaks volumes!

This is what happens when thistles explode!  So be careful when passing them.

Having exercised, walked, eaten and slept I now sit here aching all over wondering why I bothered!  Tomorrow it is museum day and the last week of the holidays.  I expect thousands will come in tomorrow and many mums begin to long for the peace and quiet next week.  I will be longing for it also by lunchtime!
 

Dunmow Charity Shops

I took it into my head to visit the upper classes yesterday so off I went on the working class bus to an area more Conservative Party than our own.  You can tell the political leanings easily here, outside many million pound houses, and one or two worth slightly less than that, stood blue boards featuring a tree logo with the word 'Conservative' brandished upon it.  This I found somewhat ironic as a very large such board in a field on the edge of Felsted which we passed bore one such tree image and developers passing by would be only too willing to cut down all such trees and fill said field with million pound houses called 'The Meadow,' or 'Three Trees,' or 'Where are the Trees' or the like.  
The charity shops in a town of middle class wealth therefore ought to offer a higher standard of left overs and this indeed is the case here.  However my trawl through the shops failed to find anything I actually wished to spend money on bar a few original birthday cards although there were masses of items my sense of greed took a fancy to.  Foolishly I browsed the bookshelves and came close to buying one tome worth £3:95 until I realised this was only Vol 1, the chance of finding Vol 2 being rather scarce I persuaded myself this was not a good idea.
The volunteers in the shops who I spoke to were friendly, efficient ladies who appeared happy at their work.  This is not always the case in such shops, on too many occasions, caused by nervousness on inability to converse with anyone but the few you identify with, had left me with the impression such shops are run by menopausal women with a grudge against humanity.  Actually I meet them elsewhere often also.  If you are not happy don't be there I say but here in Oxfam the girls were cheerful.  These ladies were a bright advert for the shop in my opinion just as they were last time I passed through yonks ago.

Dunmow grew from a mere Roman crossroads stopping place into a bustling market town in the Medieval times.  Quite where the money comes from now I know not but there is plenty about, the houses outside the town begin at just over a million and while the cheap ones can be found, if you consider a quarter of a million cheap!  How does the normal individual earn enough to get a mortgage for that amount today?  Lawyers and other professionals possibly but you and I?  One thing I note is that people who pay a couple of million for a big house with acres of room plus servants quarters always have an outside swimming pool.  If you pay that much why not cover the thing in and use it all year round?  I suppose it is less for swimming and more for entertaining purposes, sitting around the pool in the evening with wine and backstabbing among friends I suppose.  One thing about such middle classes is the high divorce rate, money does not satisfy and some are rather too keen to share themselves out I reckon. Possibly I have just been reading the 'Telegraph' gossip columns again...?
However the vicar , the Rev Noel Mellish VC. MC. did not have a swimming pool at his town centre abode, he however did have a Victoria Cross awarded for rescuing wounded men over a three day period.  There is little doubt that had he not taken those few volunteers to do this work, returning under fire at first, then a great number of men would have died on those days, no-one else would have brought them in.  Such  a man ought to be remembered by his town folks, later he was the one who informed them from the pulpit that the Second World War had begun.
The rise in wealth hinders the bus however.  With Mercedes, fancy sports cars and those big imitation Jeeps come tanks called 'Jasmine' or 'Jemima' by the female owners parked on one side and Mercedes, sports cars and Jeeps coming the other way, all considering the road belongs to them rather than the common peoples bus, the drivers winding their way through the traffic must have wished they were doing this after the Great War when the bus traffic first began.
Mr Hicks, a well known Essex name, ran a 'Charabanc' from Braintree to Bishops Stortford at that time.  The 'Charabanc' was a simple bus, an uncovered row of seats with a driver at the front that revolutionised communication for the villages round the big towns.  There was the rail link of course but you often had to walk a mile to connect with that and the bus now dropped you at or almost at your door.  By 1952 there was no more rail link for passengers and the bus service, now with covered buses, improved greatly.  Lorry deliveries also hastened development during the nineteen twenties, the ex-army lorries abounded and many ex-servicemen found this the only way to survive in that 'dog eat dog' Conservative led 'austerity' time.
Today the rise in cars numbers, these folks have more than one each, means that the bus now appears only every hour and there have been attempts to end this also by people who don't need it.

 
While I enjoyed by short bus trip in the Australian hot sunshine I had also begun the day at six in the morning by cycling slowly up the old railway line.  How enjoyable that was as few were about and only an occasional mad barking 'Jack Russell' type were there to attack me.  The few other dogs I saw were so happy you could see laughter on their faces as they ran past.  What more can a dog ask than the chance to run free, note a variety of fragrances, the occasional squirrel to chase and a tit bit or two from the owner.   

You may consider this a work of art by some famous unknown artist who has made millions from offering such works to those with too much money and too little taste but you would be mistaken.  This is merely the pond at the far end of my ride where a solitary duck disappeared at my approach and was replaced by a million hovering beasties, the same type of beasties that hover in the shade of bushes in vast hordes awaiting passing cyclists who failing to avoid them end up swallowing the brutes via nose and mouth if great care is not taken.  In this case the sun reflecting of the water hid the brutes.  On occasion those who tarry here will see a collection of local insects buzzing around and a small board has been placed to indicate the general types found.  I saw one Mallard duck and a thousand flies!

   
I thought little of charity shops while watching the sun glint of the leaves and warm the stubs of crops in the fields around me.  Crops that have suffered too little rain for their good and while the sky has been dark, often damp, it has not yielded sufficient to please the farmers at the weathers mercy.  I can hear Sainsburys increasing their prices 'because of shortages' already!'  
However it is good to sit amongst green leaves and sunshine, in spite of the beasties that accompany you.  Rabbits sit upright in the distance wary of your existence, Robins and Blackbirds that a moment before you appeared were happily chomping on such beasties as could be found on the ground disappear while the chaffinches in the trees no longer sing as they wonder just what you are up to.  Still I like it early in the day even if it means my knees will remind me of their suffering later.

Occasional horses can be found trotting slowly along this part, however the day was too early for them.  These gates are to hinder neds who steal scooters or motorbikes and ride them up the old railway late at night when few are about.  While the police occasionally use bikes to cycle along this way these days I still think handing such neds over to the Saudi Authorities might be a good idea.  Maybe we ought to hand the parents over instead, that is if they have mothers.

  
Has anyone heard of a 'Long stay Catholic Church' before?  This one has all mod cons and services!