Adam's Music Reviews IX - Beatles Special

Yes, it is that crossing!

On November 2nd 2023 the Beatles will release what is somewhat emphatically being called their final song. Following 17 number one singles in the sixties, the three remaining Beatles added instrumental and vocal parts to two Lennon demos in the 1990s, 'Free as a Bird' and 'Real Love.' 'Free as a Bird' became their fifth number two single while 'Real Love' reached number four (surprisingly the same position as the double A side of 'Something' and 'Come Together'). The proposed third track, 'Now and Then,' was abandoned, until now. Will it become the band's eighteenth number one? Who knows. But to mark the occasion I'm going to review my favourite works by the band as a series of awards. You'll see what I mean...

Best Lennon & McCartney Song - A Day In The Life (1967)

I remember listening to this as a teenager on a Walkman in my grandparents' bedroom and thinking 'This is scary sounding. I'm never taking drugs!' This, the closing track to 'Sgt. Pepper,' sees John Lennon pitying those he views as dull and unenlightened, before an orchestral riot leads to McCartney's jaunty bridge, a little like the hurricane taking Dorothy to the Land of Oz. Lennon's lugubriousness has the final say before the the orchestral chaos leads to one of the longest notes in rock music, hammered out on five pianos simultaneously if I remember rightly. Even the Beatles couldn't really top this for ingenuity. It is one of three songs I can think of where Lennon and McCartney clearly wrote contrasting sections, the others being 'We Can Work it Out' (1965) and 'I've Got a Feeling' (1970). OK, if you insist, 'Free As A Bird' (1995) too.

Best Harrison Song – While My Guitar Gently Weeps (1968)

This is George Harrison's finest song in my opinion, although I cannot claim to having heard all of his solo work. This 'White Album' track includes Eric Clapton as a guest for the weeping guitar solo to augment George's lyrics expressing the frustration that any thinking person will have about humanity's behaviour. This seems to be a message that is more urgent than ever today, yet I have a sneaking suspicion that George was channelling his frustration about his bandmates at this time as much as anything.

Best Early Album - Please Please Me (1963)

Rewinding right to the beginning of the Fab Four's career, the boys exploded into our hearts and minds with the famous count-in of 'I Saw Her Standing There.' I particularly like the Lennon-McCartney song 'Misery,' but the album's highlights for me are not 'Twist And Shout' or the title track, but two covers where John Lennon's vocal drips with pathos, these being 'Anna (Go To Him)' and 'Baby It's You.' Debut albums don't get much better than this. The band's first single, 'Love Me Do' is here too.

Best Mid-Period Album - Rubber Soul (1965)

The distorted photo on the cover perhaps hints at the mind-bending direction the band would eventually take, but on this album, folk is as big an influence as anything, 'Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)' being the obvious example. 'The Word' is a favourite of mine with its early attempt at a funk rhythm, Paul dabbles with French in 'Michelle,' Ringo gets a bit of country music out of his system on 'What Goes On' and the fuzzed guitar tone on 'Think For Yourself' is a new sound for the group. However, the crown goes to John Lennon on this album for the wonderfully thoughtful track, 'In My Life.' George Martin's speeded up piano solo is to be credited too.

Best Late Album - The Beatles (White Album) (1968)

Not 'Sgt. Pepper' – that's controversial! On this double album, the foursome did whatever they felt like with no constraints of commercialism. Styles vary from folk to Charleston to 'country and western' to heavy metal, and 'Revolution 9' simulates the effect of waking up during a series of bizarre dreams, before Ringo lulls us back to sleep with 'Good Night.' George as ever got to write and sing one track per LP side while Ringo got to sing one track per LP. Here, he presents his first foray into songwriting with 'Don't Pass Me By.' Meanwhile, it's Paul who rocks out the most, with 'Back in the USSR' and the cacophonous 'Helter Skelter.' However, the high point of the whole album for me is the segue from 'The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill' into 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps.' Segues are a lost art. The world need more segues!

Best Lennon Album – Plastic Ono Band (1970)

Not 'Imagine' – more controversy, huh? Before we got the 'John as a saint' persona (which he never encouraged), we had this – a raging diatribe against all society's norms. This would have been something of a shock for those who remembered the Beatles as lovable clowns from their early years. 'Working Class Hero' is a classic, although I would advise a '12' certificate if you have kids. Was this the first F-word on a successful album? And more to the point, did the world end? 'Look at Me' is a very nice introspective acoustic track, and in case anybody was hoping for a continuation of the Beatles' career, John laments 'The dream is over' on the penultimate track. After some activism, John would settle into family life before his tragic demise, and comparing the relaxed feel of his final songs with this album is like comparing chalk and cheese. There's a companion 'Yoko Ono / Plastic Ono Band' album too. Try it if you dare.

Best McCartney Album – McCartney (1970)

Sorry (again), it's not the Wings album, 'Band On The Run.' Bizarrely, Paul's solo debut wasn't appreciated at the time of its release in spite of the fact that Paul plays every instrument on the album, pretty much inventing the genre of lo-fi DIY production. The songs are extremely melodic and seem to reflect the fact that Paul was dealing with depression following the break up of the Beatles, seeking solace in a quiet life with his first wife, Linda. The romantic vibes were in perfect sync with my own life at the time I discovered this album when courting my now-estranged wife; 'Man We Was Lonely,' 'That Would Be Something' and 'Every Night' encapsulate the feel perfectly. The most well known song here is probably 'Maybe I'm Amazed,' a rousing piano ballad that was later released as a live single by Wings. The album contains a few Beatles leftovers like 'Teddy Boy' and 'Junk' and personally I think the critics of the time needed to open their ears a bit.

Extracted from '2021: A Musical Odyssey' by Adam Colton. The 'expanded 2023 edition is cheap as chips on Amazon Kindle and under a tenner on paperback, while the original edition is now reduced in price.

Rye and Winchelsea (East Sussex) - Free Walking Guide

Ticket to Rye? A Turbostar diesel train en route to the town.

The information on this page may be freely used for recreational walks. It was originally printed as a free guide which was available at the Queen's Head pub in Rye. Beware that some information may change over time. Any known errors will be corrected. Photo by Mark Gostling.

The ancient Cinque Port of Rye is a great base for exploring the diverse scenery of East Sussex. There is a station on the Marsh Link railway line which runs between Ashford, Kent and the coastal towns of Hastings and Eastbourne. It is one of only two remaining diesel lines in the provincial Southern region. Rye has a striking feature in the form of a stone archway known as the Landgate. The Rye Town Model is also well worth a visit. The scenery around Rye is very varied, making the town a great base for walkers. The rivers Brede, Rother and Tillingham meet at the town, and the smaller town of Winchelsea, three miles southwest, is arguably to be the smallest town in England. 

Winchelsea Loop (6 miles)

When exiting Rye Station from the main building, head towards the town past the bus stops on the left-hand side and turn right to walk along Cinque Ports Street. Continue ahead at the junction with the road to Battle, walking along either pavement until reaching a mini roundabout with the A259 near a fish & chip shop.

Continue ahead (signed 'Hastings') and after around 400 yards. take the turning on the left, signed 'Rye Harbour'. Here you will bridge the River Brede. Turn right onto the track. Fork left onto the grassy trail at the houses and follow this for a mile, with views of Camber Castle to your left. This was built by Henry VIII. The modern-day village of Camber is actually located several miles away on the opposite side of the Rother estuary. The path bears left as though heading towards the castle and then turns right to continue running along a grassy ridge.

The path rejoins the river-bank for a bit and later bears left to pass through a gate. Continue ahead on the concrete drive and onto a lane at the second gate. Upon reaching a larger road, turn right and walk for half a mile to the end of the road.

At the T-junction with the A259, turn left, and after passing the former Bridge Inn (now a house on the right) turn left again, climbing the steep hill into Winchelsea. Winchelsea has a claim on being England's smallest town and it is thought that it once possessed around ten times its modern day population.

Winchelsea was laid out in a grid pattern in the 13^th century, like a quaint precursor of Milton Keynes! You will pass around the stone arch Strand Gate, one of three which mark the ancient entrances to the town. At the top of the hill continue straight ahead, passing the churchyard to your left. Comedian Spike Milligan is buried here and there is a well-trodden path through the grass to this location. St Thomas' Church is worth entering, not least to discover Winchelsea's influence on famous paintings.

At the New Inn pub, turn right, and then left at the next junction. Cross the A259 at the end of the road (with views of the Pipewell Gate to your right) and continue ahead along the drive on the other side. Follow the footpath ahead passing a beacon which marks the site of an ancient windmill. Continue, descending into the Brede Valley, bearing right around the hillside as you go. Keep bearing right to pass through a gate and over a small footbridge into trees, eventually reaching the road again. Turn left onto the lane signed 'Winchelsea Station'. Cross the railway line and follow the lane onward towards the hills. At the end of the lane, turn right onto the curiously named 'Dumb Woman's Lane.' Where this lane turns sharply left to climb the hill, continue ahead along the bottom of the hills on the trackway. This route can also be cycled as it forms part of the South Coast cycle route.

When the track becomes a small lane near houses, turn right to follow the path. After passing a car park, turn right opposite the windmill and cross the railway line. You will exit onto the A259 where you can turn left to retrace your steps to the station, but don't miss out on Rye town centre before you leave.

Leasam / Houghton Green Loop (4 miles)

When exiting Rye Station from the main building, turn right to pass a large supermarket. When you reach a level crossing at the end of the road, turn right to cross the railway and continue down the alleyway to the right of the former Queen Adelaide pub.

Continue ahead on this path towards the hills. At the end you will see a footpath with steps climbing steeply ahead. Take time to savour the view behind as you climb.

At the top, follow the gravel trail through a cemetery, bearing right when you pass a small chapel. The tarmac drive will bring you out onto the A268. Cross the road and turn left to follow the pavement passing the Playden Oast Inn. After two thirds of a mile you will come to a turning on the right, just before the T-junction with the B2082. Turn down the lane towards Houghton Green and follow it around a sharp left-hand bend.

100 yards after the bend you will see a public footpath on your right hand side. Follow this along the field edge which gradually bears left. Continue into the next field, walking beside the hedgerow on your right. Soon you will come to a bridge over a stream. Bear left at the stile after the bridge and follow the bottom (left) edge of the field, continuing into the next field in the same direction. Eventually you will reach a lane. Bear right.

At the end of this lane, turn left, taking great care walking along the road. The cliffs here once formed part of the ancient coastline when Romney Marsh was covered by the sea. Cross the bridge over the River Rother on your right when you reach a dam, and then turn right to follow the Royal Military Canal Path along the east bank of the waterway with views of the Cheyne Court wind farm.

Follow the bank for a mile and a half, eventually passing beneath the railway bridge and coming out onto the A259. Cross the road and turn right along the pavement, bridging the river. Continue ahead at the mini-roundabout and cross the road again at the lights, climbing the slope on the opposite side. You can explore the town centre by turning left at the top. To return to the station, turn right at the top to pass beneath the Landgate arch and turn left onto Cinque Ports Street, looking out for the station approach on your right as you continue.

One-way route to Hastings (13 miles)

A long-distance walk for seasoned ramblers:

Follow the first three paragraphs of the Winchelsea Loop but before you bridge the Royal Military Canal to reach the A259, turn left onto the canal path to follow the south bank south-westward. The canal is a 28-mile waterway which was built as an obstruction against a feared invasion by Napoleon. It is the third longest defensive structure in the UK (after Hadrian's Wall and Offa's Dyke). This area of marshland is known as Pett Level, and this southernmost section of the canal is much narrower than the section from north of Rye to Appledore, Hamstreet, Hythe and Seabrook. There is a sister blog post on walks from Hamstreet which explore the Kent section of this waterway.

Remain on this side of the waterway for the next three miles. Be prepared: you may encounter long grass and weeds in places. Continue ahead when you eventually cross a concrete drive.

Cross the bridge over the canal at this point and continue to the end of the canal along the north bank. Turn right at the road - you will pass the former village shop of Pett Level (now a private house). There used to be a pub in the village called the Smuggler too. Bear left at the T-junction to follow the main route towards Fairlight. Take extreme care as you walk for a mile along the road around some right-angle bends.

Soon you will reach a track to your left just before the road bridges a stream. Take this shady trackway and continue straight ahead at each of the junctions, climbing past houses. Beware that this can be wet / muddy. Eventually Lower Waites Lane becomes Smugglers Way which bears left and climbs steeply. Turn right at the end onto Bramble Way. At the end of this road turn left to reach the cliff-top Saxon Shore Way track. Turn right here, climbing towards Hastings Country Park. A footpath continues ahead on the left side where the track becomes private.

Each time there is a fork, take the left path to remain following the cliff-edge (also follow the marker posts for Hastings). After passing a lookout tower to the right you will descend into three deep glens (Warren Glen, Fairlight Glen and Ecclesbourne Glen). The views are stunning but a certain level of fitness is required as there are a lot of steps. At the final descent into Hastings the route opens up into a wide green, heading towards a beacon. The green eventually funnels towards a series of steps down beside the East Cliff lift. At the bottom of the steps, continue straight down the hill and cross the A259 at the bottom. Continue ahead into Hastings Old Town on Courthouse Street.

Turn left at the T-junction with High Street, Then take the 2^nd turn right into George Street. Continue onward when you emerge back onto the A259 and bear right at the roundabout to go through the underpass and into the pedestrianised area. At the large junction of streets, take Havelock Road which continues ahead past the John Logie Baird pub and curves to the right. Continue ahead at the traffic lighted junction to reach the station to catch your train back to Rye.

A humorous travelogue by the author of this blog is available. Check out 'Mud, Sweat & Beers' today!

Thoughts on a 'Brave New World' (2023)

 

While taking a walk in the local woodlands recently, I was surprised to find a sign at the end of a trail with words along the lines of 'People camping. Homeless so the council can find us - no other reason.' I may be wrong, but I'm guessing this has something to do with there being so few council houses that they are only available for those with absolutely naff all, which you may even think sounds OK until you consider the sky-high rents that private landlords are charging and the kind of salary you need to get a mortgage on even the most basic flat.

It has often been said that if you put a frog in water and gradually turn up the heat it won't notice that the water has become unbearably hot. This seems a great metaphor for the property market to me. In spite of all that has happened in recent years (killer-viruses, megalomaniac invasions...), the result of the drive to keep house prices accelerating above the rate of inflation is surely still the biggest drain on most people's monthly budgets, where the cost of just having a roof over your head is outstripping the kind of wages being paid for jobs that society needs. Since when did a home become a luxury item?

Back here in deepest Kent the only homes being built in my village are priced from approximately half a million upwards. For me, it is impossible not to ask whether or not society is truly being run for the majority. And is any political leader up to the challenge of doing something about it? Er... don't answer that!

I often feel that many who believe that the world is basically fair simply don't want to think about it. Or maybe it's just more comfortable to believe that you are closer to the millionaire class than to homelessness.

At the same time I hear that almost all railway station ticket offices are earmarked for closure due to the majority of tickets now being bought at machines. It is true that younger, more technologically-minded people might choose to use a machine over human interaction, but older people generally don't, yet it feels that they have been coerced into doing so because many ticket offices are now only taking card payments and older people are more likely to use cash. Thus, it does feel as if the rail operators have engineered this situation somewhat. I get a similar feeling in supermarkets where you can choose to use the self-service checkouts or queue up to see a lone cashier.

I am informed that there may still be somebody assisting customers to use the ticket machine and that it is unlikely that a small village station will get to keep its ticket office when even central stations in large cities are earmarked for ticket office closure, and I guess nobody is going to pay somebody to twiddle their thumbs.

However, in a general sense, if the majority of jobs are going to be performed by machines in the future, what will happen to the workers that are laid off? For instance, what will happen to all the driving roles when driverless vehicles finally stop crashing into walls? You can't stop progress, but my concern is that the jobs being phased out generally aren't being replaced with other jobs that the majority of people can do. Politicians seem to only focus upon 'high quality' jobs, which let's face it, only a minority will be able to get. It seems like it's going to be like a game of musical chairs with jobs. And gosh, won't the wealthy kick up about having to pay more tax in order to support the newly jobless masses? As with climate change I guess our leaders will finally start thinking about it when it's too late.

The optimistic logic of TV programmes like BBC's 'Tomorrow's World' in the 1980s was that if machines are going to be doing all the work, we will all have more leisure time and be able to work less. Life was going to be one big holiday with the leisure sector booming. The problem with this is that managers and shareholders rarely want to share the savings. Look at how the water companies have failed to invest in infrastructure in spite of huge profits. It's trickle-up economics, right?

Also in the news, the NHS recently celebrated its 75-year anniversary, but this came with a warning that it will not make a hundred years if we carry on the way we are. At the risk of sounding like a conspiracy theorist, it often seems as though things are just being left to slowly fall apart so that anyone who can afford to switch to private healthcare will do just that, but what happens to the rest of us? It seems pretty obvious that most don't have the spare cash kicking around for private healthcare.

It all seems to come back to ideology at the end of the day. The NHS was founded with a view to society looking after its citizens regardless of wealth, whereas today it seems to me that the prevailing view is that if you don't have the bread it's your problem. As establishment figures are often seen in cathedrals for events such as coronations, I wonder how these advocates of the 'modern' view manage to make that fit with their supposed religious beliefs. Anyone would think they're just pretending!

The economist Richard Layard in his book 'Happiness' provides plenty of graphs showing that the greater the gap between rich and poor is in a country, the greater the prevalence of social problems. I no longer have the book but the graphs were plotted for things like illiteracy, violence, homelessness, drug abuse, etc. It was a pretty comprehensive list that sounds like your average episode of 'Eastenders!' I have found that in pointing this out, one can often be taunted as being a 'communist,' a 'Marxist' or worse, but in truth the solution is never black and white. Any system with no restraint generally ends up destroying itself, and unrestrained capitalism is no different. If life gets seriously bad for a large proportion of the population you tend to get a revolution. Do we really want this? Or should we put the brakes on a bit? Business leaders would probably say 'no, we shouldn't,' while those living in a Kentish wood because they have no other option would surely say it's gone too far already.

Closing the debate down by viewing all criticism of our society as heretical is certainly not my idea of freedom. It sounds more like the something George Orwell would have written about. Keep minds open and speech free at the point of use!

Sorry it was a bit heavy this time. I actively try to avoid seeing too much news, and I guess you can now see why!

Dorset Rail Trails - A Cycling Perambulation

 

I’ve taken five months off from writing, heeding the advice of (presumably) a distant relative Charles Caleb Colton, whose quote can often be found in diaries, ‘When you’ve nothing to say, say nothing.’

With all the news about artificial intelligence creating books and art it looks like the whole lot of us will be redundant soon. I guess those who are pushing the boundaries of technology have different kinds of minds to those who write, paint, make music, dance, create films, etc., being unable to imagine the satisfaction / catharsis that people get by creating something and (preferably) having it appreciated by others. I always thought that the idea was to get machines doing the tedious jobs so humans could be free to do the interesting stuff, but society seems to be heading in the opposite direction to me. It often feels like those in charge have read Orwell's '1984' and thought 'That sounds cool!'

It seemed like winter was never going to end this year, but thankfully my rucksack is down from the attic and has been in use for a few trips now. The most eventful of these was a few days cycling around Dorset. Having explored the Christchurch / Bournemouth / Poole conurbation thoroughly in the winter, I immediately set off on my bike upon alighting at Poole after a six-hour train journey along the south coast. The cycle path ran northward beside Holes Bay, an inlet from Poole Harbour which is reputedly the world’s second largest natural harbour.

Beyond Upton Country Park, I picked up the track-bed of a former railway line, now known as the Castleman Trailway, and eventually I came to the pleasant little town of Wimborne Minster after a leafy cutting and a short tunnel / long bridge under the road. I was lured by a pub which claimed to be the smallest pub in Dorset. However, the staff revealed that the claim was a little bit speculative and that, should somebody make a claim to the epithet for another alehouse, the word ‘probably’ would be added to the sign.

One particular local expressed his admiration at my notion of wild camping with a minimum of equipment (whereas closer to home, comments are often of the ‘not my idea of fun’ ilk. My response is of course that I wasn't inviting them!). Then off I set along lanes passing thatched cottages until picking up another disused railway route from Spetisbury to Blandford Forum. The old station at Spetisbury is well cared for and I stopped for a rest there, admiring the half-moon in the evening sunshine and marvelling at the fact that twelve people have actually set foot upon it. Bringing my musings back down to earth, the Somerset and Dorset Joint Railway ran all the way to Bath and was even used by northern tourists on their way to Bournemouth.

The track-bed disappears as one approaches Blandford Forum, where I camped in a copse in Stour Meadows, a large area of common land. The only evidence of the line here are two arches which were an abutment on one side of the rail bridge over the River Stour. It seems that the pronunciation of ‘Stour’ rhymes with ‘shower’ here, whereas I’ve always maintained that our Kentish river of  the same name rhymes with ‘sewer’ - this is not a comment on the water quality I hasten to add.

Whilst the daytime temperatures touched twenty degrees the nights were unseasonably cold for late May and I had no less than five layers on in my sleeping bag. After a hearty breakfast in a café I was on the rail trail once more, plunging deeper northwest into the Dorset countryside. I stopped to look inside the pretty church at Stourpaine, and the hills on either side of the route were extremely picturesque beyond this, even giving my local ‘Stour Valley’ a run for its money.

At Shillingstone I passed a preserved station, complete with a railway carriage which has been utilised as a seating area for the café, and a replica signal box. I was ushered up the steps and given a demonstration of the levers for the points and signals as well as the system where the train driver is given a metal disc 'token' so that the points and signals at the next signal box cannot be released until the token is handed over and put into the machine. Hence, two trains cannot be charging towards each other on the same stretch of single track. It turns out that there are plans to create a short steam line here, so the working signals will once again serve a purpose beyond educating visitors like myself.

And so to Sturminster Newton and the end of the line. The settlement here was smaller than Blandford or Wimborne and the barman at the White Hart pub explained the difference between real ale and craft ale (craft ale can be served at lower temperatures without compromising its flavour). In spite of this I still ordered half a cider by mistake at one point. When in Dorset…

The remainder of my trip took me back to Poole the way I had come. The variation this time was that I used the signed cycle route along an undulating lane beyond Blandford Forum. Pausing by a hedge I spotted what looked like an upside down naked human form. It was pretty clear that this was a discarded item (presumably by somebody ashamed of its ownership) but I still pinched one of its toes to make sure that I hadn't stumbled across a dead body.

Upon crossing the Stour near Spetisbury, I rode the B-road towards Wareham which was both scenic and increasingly challenging as it went on. Wareham is a pleasant little town and young people were jumping into the river near the bridge that marks the beginning of the Isle of Purbeck. Like our Kentish 'isles' of Thanet, Oxney and Grain the word 'isle' is used loosely here and the imposing hills beyond mean that Purbeck can be seen from a good many miles away. Its stone has been used for building for centuries.

After eschewing the epic Sunday night queue for the chip shop in favour of a Chinese takeaway I headed northward to the woods, which appeared to have a mountain biking circuit in them with banked curves and jumps. I wasn't tempted; I just wanted to sleep. The ground didn’t get as cold as the copse near Blandford had done, which usually seems to be the case in evergreen forests, but a flying critter bit me in the night causing my lip to puff up to resemble something between Mick Jagger and the Elephant Man. This deflated as the next day progressed and hopefully the sunglasses nudged the look towards the ‘rock star’ end of the spectrum as I availed myself of three coffees after the eight-mile ride to Poole the next morning.

With a puffy eyelid to boot, I began the long train journey back to Kent, with a beer break at Eastbourne. I was pleased to see that Blue Moon beer was back on the menu at 'Spoons' and it was served, as it should be, with a slice of orange in the glass. However, three pints savoured in the lengthening sunshine streaming through the window still didn't prepare me for the onslaught of head-wind that I encountered when riding along the coast. My aim of camping one final night near the seaside town of Bexhill was soon abandoned in favour of almost completing my journey back on the next train and camping in a familiar wood around four miles from my home.

If you've enjoyed this traveller's tale, you may be interested to read my books 'Mud, Sweat and Beers' and 'Stair-Rods and Stars.' There's still time to catch these before A.I. steals my bike and my ideas to create a blockbuster written purely by algorithm to maximise sales. I guess the body would have to be dead and the lip would have had to have swollen to disfiguring proportions. Who wants the truth these days, hey?

How Big Is Ashford? / One Goes Mad In Dorset

I may be in a minority but every ten years I find it interesting to pore over the population figures when the census results are released.

It's particularly interesting down here in Kent, as my hometown of Ashford is often said to be of the fastest growing in the country, spreading rapidly across the farmland to the south of the town. I heard that a local songwriter once wrote a ditty along the lines of 'Come to Ashford before Ashford comes to you (credit is available if the composer comes forward!).

Well, the official figure shows an increase from 67,000 people to 76,000. However, I would argue that the boundary of what is regarded as Ashford should include modern developments like Park Farm, Finberry and Chilmington in their entirety. This 'urban area' figure gives a population of 84,000 (up from 74,000), which seems more representative. I imagine that service providers and businesses look at population figures when deciding whether or not to locate in a town, so it makes sense to me for the powers that be to revise the boundaries of what is regarded as 'Ashford' to include all the suburbs as it grows. I did suggest this (along with other tips for improvement) to our local MP as well as Ashford Borough Council when I was bored during the lockdown. I guess they must be working on it!

It has often been rumoured that Ashford will end up being the largest town in Kent, so you may be surprised to learn that Maidstone now has 121,000 inhabitants and is actually growing at a faster rate. In provincial Kent, Ashford is second in size after the county town, but if you include Dartford and Medway, which the 'City Population' website doesn't include in the Kent list, you will find that Dartford, Gillingham and Chatham are all still larger than Ashford.

Apologies to my non-local readers that the first half of this post is very much a local post for local people, but I then extended my number-crunching to the borough's villages.

The built-up area population is the best available gauge of village-size, and if you disqualify villages that have part of Ashford in their designated built-up area, the top ten largest are Charing, Wye, Hamstreet, Brabourne Lees, Shadoxhurst, High Halden, Biddenden, Woodchurch, Bethersden and Challock. One is tempted to record an audio clip reciting the list over the 'Pick of the Pops' music in the style of Alan Freeman!

If you look at parish populations the list is different as parishes vary wildly in size and some villages (like Hamstreet and Brabourne Lees) run across two parishes. I guess all this reminds us to be very careful when presented with statistics, as strategic use of figures can be summoned to bolster any point of view. If you want to say 'enough development' or 'bring it on,' you just choose the set of figures that best suits your point!

I recently took a trip to Bournemouth to try to break up the 'winterregnum' between Christmas and New Year (when the weather outside is frightful). With roughly 80,000 more people than Maidstone, certain parts of Bournemouth have a 'city' feel, but there are some delightful walks through the green arteries that follow various streams (or bournes) down to the sea. I found myself watching the kite-surfers in Poole Harbour one day and walking to Christchurch another day to admire the abbey. The name for this particular settlement comes from the abbey itself, which was so-named because during construction a large beam seemed to mystically appear roughly when an unknown carpenter vanished. I'm sure you can guess who locals thought this carpenter may have been, and the name just stuck.

Another interesting spot was in Bournemouth itself, this being the grave of Mary Shelley, the author of 'Frankenstein,' which is arguably the world's first science fiction book. I guess you could say that it is this author's idea of finding inspiration. Check out Digital Psychosis for the latest offering which I like to think was momentarily the world's newest science fiction book when released. Forget Prince Harry 'going spare' - you'll hear all about it on the news anyway - this is the 'must have' book for 2023 (even if I say so myself!).

Thoughts on the UK's Hottest Ever Day

 

19th July 2022

I started typing this on the hottest UK day of all time (again!) and with temperatures topping 40 degrees centigrade for the first time ever recorded, surely any remaining climate change skeptics here must now be convinced of the science. It is true that you cannot attribute any single weather event purely to climate change but the trend is obvious. Seven of the top ten hottest UK temperatures have been since the year 2000 and only one was pre-1990. And although we are an island, when it comes to higher temperatures we are certainly not unique.

I think it will prove to be the world's biggest travesty that our leaders listened to fat cats instead of scientists for about forty years, and now we are beginning to reap the results. Invading other countries and swelling the pockets of the rich seemed far more important than ensuring a stable future for our descendants. Believe the science; this is just the beginning.

It's rare that I recommend a book that wasn't written by myself or my mother, but I recommend 'Our Future Earth' by Curt Stager for a long-term non-sensationalist view on the subject. According to the book, we have already prevented the next ice age which is due in about 50,000 years time. Yes, this is the kind of timescale involved when it comes to releasing millions of years of stored carbon into the atmosphere over a few centuries.

Quite how uncomfortable we will make life for our immediate descendants relies on how quickly we can change to non-carbon forms of energy. In the mid-2010s we reached levels of atmospheric carbon that have not been around for 16 million years (according to YaleEnvironment360). Humans have simply never experienced what we are unleashing before, so it's a kind of experiment that we have all unwittingly entered and cannot bail out of. The delayed climatic response to what we are doing has been perhaps the biggest obstacle to human understanding of this issue.

What is particularly concerning is that the media hardly ever talks about what the world will be like after the year 2100, but there are teenagers now who will be around to experience this legacy. Why do we show so much concern for their school grades and the possibility of them earning well but give so little thought to the risks posed to their wellbeing by extreme weather, rising tides and war? Yes 'war,' because if we do not start taking a global attitude to global problems there will be fighting for the remaining fertile land and resources. People in my little corner of England seem to get incredibly steamed up about immigration, but has nobody considered hundreds of millions of displaced people that will be fleeing starvation and land destruction in the future? If they're that concerned about immigration they should be really concerned about climate change.

Another thing that truly scared me as a teenager was learning about the human population explosion in my geography lessons, being introduced to the theories of Malthus, which state that if human population increases beyond a certain threshold it will be reduced by war, famine and disease. Human population has seen accelerated growth due to the improvements brought about by the industrial revolution, but developing countries have yet to go through this stage of development which eventually results in a more stable population. Unromantic though it may seem, if there is little risk of you outliving your own children and there is a 'safety net' in old age (pensions), meaning that your offspring will not have to look after you, there is no need to have quite so many of those screaming bundles of joy. Britain went through the same process around a century ago, and as you'll observe families are now generally 'twos' rather than 'tens.'

To my mind, climate change is just another manifestation of the grim theory of Malthus. We cannot blame other countries for wanting to live the lifestyles that we have, but we have hardly led the way so far when it comes to switching to greener alternatives. In my opinion we should have got the ball rolling forty years ago when the seriousness of this issue first became obvious.

Instead we listened to people like the 'comedic' attention seeker, Jeremy Clarkson, and the ultra-rich who argued that if we let them do whatever they like to make money, it will eventually trickle down to all of us. Thus, we listened to George W. Bush and Donald Trump instead of scientists, and here in the 2022 'cost of living' crisis, I can say that I've seen more 'trickle' in the Sahara Desert!

Over the last twenty years I have tried to raise awareness of the seriousness of climate change in my own small way. I'm not exactly Greta Thunberg, but pretty much all of my books, fact or fiction, contain some reference to it. In my novel, 'The Nightshade Project,' averting the potential suffering that it will cause is in fact a dominant theme. I have also penned a few songs on the subject, most notably 'Hot Air' (originally recorded by Adam Colton and Teresa Colton in 2006). 

However, I'm not here to blow my own trumpet, but more to express disappointment in those who should know better- our leaders and those with genuine influence, courtesy of their massive bank accounts. These influencers have been so slow to get with the programme. Instead they muddied the waters of science to justify 'business as usual.' There was even an advert paid for by oil lobbyists implying that CO2 is green. If they really love carbon so much, why don't they go and work in a pencil factory? (Graphite, anyone?)

Instead of the world's great minds applying themselves to this pressing issue in 2022 we've seen an ego-based war started by a crazy old man who seems to want to bludgeon his name into history (classic narcissism). Think of all the money and resources that are now having to be diverted into fighting one another because of one man's ego, rather than being used to get to grips with humanity's most pressing issue.

Einstein is reputed to have said that 'insanity is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results.' That seems to be exactly what the human race has been doing collectively for decades. Put the dolphins in charge! (If there are any left, that is.)

West Sussex Coast - A Cycling Perambulation

So far 2022 has been shaping up no better than 2020 or 2021, with the TV news increasing your likelihood of driving to the nearest cliff and depressing the accelerator with every bulletin. If it's not narcissistic tyrants making a last-ditch attempt to make a name for themselves using mass brutality it's a constant drip-feed of price rises pushing people into the kind of poverty that just shouldn't exist if the world's sixth biggest economy operated with a modicum of empathy.

As always, sunshine and nature are there to provide a free panacea for all this angst, and I undertook my first cycling trip away during Easter of this year. My very first public article dates from 1994 and it documents a cycling trip through Sussex to raise money for our local Venture Scout unit, of which I was a member at the time. I saw the friend that I went with on TV news discussing COVID research a while back, so he's obviously done well. As for me, I decided to retread some old ground, and it was interesting to revisit some of those places after almost 28 years have passed. - 28 years!? That's insane!

I headed for Brighton with my bike and rucksack on a train that was packed as far as the tourist Mecca of Rye. After that i could breathe freely. Upon alighting, I cruised down to the coast and followed the sea wall cycle path to Hove and the road to Shoreham-by-Sea, which is the longest road in the UK beginning with a two, specifically the A259.

My comments were quite negative about Shoreham in that 1994 article, possibly due to the abundance of industry to the east of the town, but I can confirm that the town is actually very pleasant, with a bustling riverside town centre and a quaint churchyard nestling just behind it in a way not to dissimilar to the parish church in my home town of Ashford. I rode over the footbridge across the River Adur and then followed the cycle path along the coast, which was initially separated from the 'mainland' by a lagoon.

I described Worthing as having a 'green beach' in 1994, but I can confirm that the colour scheme is quite normal in 2022. The tall building by the promenade at the centre of the town reminded me of the similar building that you can't miss around fifty miles up the coast in St Leonards. It seems that planners seem to have a compulsion to put one of these 'iconic landmarks' in every large seaside town. As I continued westward the roads took me away from the seafront for a while, and more surprising than the tall concrete finger pointing into the sky was spotting the odd thatch-roofed cottage as I rode through the suburbs of these Sussex conurbations, a remnant of days before the towns swallowed up the surrounding countryside no doubt.

I got stopped at a level crossing near Angmering and I was surprised at some of the 'big name' shops in little old Rustington. I then picked up the sea wall for some more (respectful) pedestrian-dodging, heading into Littlehampton, another pleasant town where a river meets the Sussex coast, this time the Arun. A very basic white lighthouse overlooks the sea, which I had of course visited with my father in researching our lighthouse visiting tome, 'England and Wales in a Flash.' I was surprised to find a Wetherspoons pub in Littlehampton so I popped in for the obligatory curry before heading inland to Arundel and using a gravel trail which climbed into woods, where I found a spot to set up camp. The birdsong died down and the moon was bright. It was chilly as the night went on, confirming my long-established view that an early morning low of seven degrees is the very coldest temperature that I will camp in.

It was now Easter Sunday and I saw a deer as I continued westward along the trail, which soon turned south and descended to cross the A27 dual carriageway. I headed back to the coast via pleasant villages and suburbs, eventually resuming a westward course along the sea wall. I'd never been to Bognor Regis before, and the extent of my knowledge was that it is one of around a dozen places in England with the suffix 'regis' indicating 'royal patronage' and that it has long been reputed that George the Fifth's final word was 'Bognor.' The penultimate word was a taboo verb! However, this is something of an urban myth as his final words were in fact the equally pleasant statement of 'God damn you' spoken to a nurse.

I intended to use an independent café for breakfast but Wetherpoons was just too convenient again. I was surprised to see holiday-makers drinking pints of beer at 9am, and in spite of this Bognor was surprisingly quiet. I concluded that those who do their drinking at the other end of the day were not yet out of bed. Continuing westward on lanes, I found that the scenery became flat and very rural, a bit like our local 'Romney Marsh' in Kent. After heading southward down a lengthy dead end by mistake I lost the will to ride to Selsey, so I picked up the path beside Chichester Canal at Hunston, following it all the way to the marina at the end and then all the way back into Chichester, the county town of West Sussex. At 3.8 miles long, the canal is not exactly epic, but it's very pleasant nonetheless.

Oddly, this was my fifth trip to Chichester by bike but the first time I'd properly explored the city, which reminds me of a quiet version of Canterbury. The most striking features in the cathedral (pictured) for me were the Roman mosaic which is at the height of the original ground, so you gaze down upon it through a glass window in the floor, and a 'tomb for two' depicting a ancient couple holding hands which seemed romantic in a tragic way. I also did the 'wall walk' around the city which was almost as impressive at Chester's city wall, with a view of the priory and a motte-and-bailey castle mound, both in a large playing field. I then headed for the Chichester Inn and sat in the courtyard at the back for my first outdoor pint of 2022. Well, it was a bit more than a pint to be honest.

My next plan of action was to follow the old Roman road of Stane Street up onto the South Downs. There is something satisfying about following a dead-straight ancient course which is sometimes A-road, sometimes lane, sometimes bridleway and sometimes footpath. After a long climb through woods I turned around to enjoy the view, with the hills on the Isle of Wight in the distance. I found a spot to camp behind some gorse bushes and there was a nice sunset. The night was unusually silent for wild camping and the morning was again cold, so I packed up and began my ride back to Brighton at 6am.

I had a wander around the striking Catholic cathedral on the hill at Arundel, I found Angmering to be a very quaint village in spite of its suburban location, and I enjoyed a fine English breakfast with added mushrooms in an independent café (hurrah!) in Worthing. The staff were taking the Mick out of a customer who had been on a disastrous date. I'm sure that made him feel wonderful! I followed the A270 into Brighton purely to have a nose at what journeys were like before the town was bypassed. As I passed beneath the plethora of railway lines I spotted some steps leading up to a siding that had been converted into a short walking route called the Brighton Greenway. I followed this to the station but I wasn't ready to go home yet, so I decided to ride to Lewes, the country town of East Sussex.

As you'd expect in a city with Britain's only Green Party MP, the cycle route beside the A270 out of Brighton was very good, but the pub I intended to spend lunch in at Falmer was not open on Mondays so I merely followed the route to Lewes and caught the first of three trains home. Falafel, homous and a can of Coke on Hastings Station was the somewhat modest finale to the mission. If you've enjoyed the write-up, you know where there's plenty more (Stair-Rods & Stars).