Richmond Park to Slough - A Cycling Perambulation

Autumn is upon us, meteorologically at least, and my most recent 'cycling perambulation' began at Chiswick in West London. I decided to pedal down to Richmond Park via Sheen in order to pick up the Tamsin Trail, which is a 7½-mile loop around the park, designed with cyclists in mind. The creator's daughter was called Tamsin and the rest is history. It was extremely pleasant and at one point a deer stood right in front of me in the trail. There are some quite formidable climbs however. Worth seeking out is the 'protected view' where one can see in a straight line through the trees all the way to St Paul's Cathedral. A reasonably detailed map is recommended as you'll need to spot where the route changes course to cut across the western side of the park. I missed my cue and ended up cycling uphill on the road, re-entering the park at Sawyer's Hill.

Having completed my '360,' I left the park, which covers a bigger area than the Bois de Boulogne in Paris, via the Roehampton Gate and I picked up the Thames Path as far as Kew Bridge. My aim was now to pick up the Grand Union Canal towpath westward from where the canal leaves the river in Brentford. I stopped for a quick McDonald's and upon asking if they could fill my flask up with tap water I was told 'We don't do that any more.' I didn't want to make a fuss as the girl serving was very young and had clearly been told to say this, but I did add 'I thought that was illegal' and quickly went into 'keyboard warrior' mode when handed a till receipt inviting customer feedback. Since then I have learned that only licensed premises are obliged to provide free water. In short, they weren't breaking the law; they were just being mean-spirited!

The canal towpath climbed past several locks, and only occasionally did I encounter an urban stretch, reminding me that I was still inside the lasso of the M25. I had ridden most of this canal's towpath before – it goes all the way to Birmingham – but not this section from the Thames up to where the canal link from Paddington comes in. A little further on, I branched off onto the Slough Line, which was dead straight towards the town that is mostly famous for being the setting of the TV comedy 'The Office.' Twilight was descending, and unimaginatively, I headed for the nearest 'Spoons.' Many folk turn their noses up at the pub chain but there is nearly always a free water dispenser available for customers, something that McDonald's could do with introducing if they're too busy to use taps. The real ale is generally excellent and at £1.99 a pint (as it was on this occasion) there were no complaints from me.

After riding through a town centre that seemed well-endowed with restaurants for a non-tourist town, I camped in a small wood adjoining a large park. With Heathrow Airport not far away, the sound of the planes could have been intrusive, but mingled with the traffic drone from the M4, it served more as gently lulling white noise.

Adding no litter to the dreadful accumulation in that wood, I packed up my things the next morning and headed into Old Windsor via Datchet, which seemed a very pleasant place. I was amazed that a 'full English' cost me just £6.80 in Old Windsor, fearing that it would be at least a tenner in this salubrious area! From here, I picked up the Thames towpath, with the aim of following this back into London. To my mind, Old Windsor is the western end of the continuous cycling route along the riverbank, with much of the path being classified 'footpath' west, particularly after Maidenhead to Marlow, Henley-on-Thames, Reading and the great beyond.

After passing Runnymede, made famous by the signing of the Magna Carta by King John in 1215, I passed beneath the M25 to reach Staines-upon-Thames, a town made famous by the comedian Sacha Baron Cohen for making it the home of his 'rude boy' character Ali G. I think the 'Upon Thames' was added to the name purely to offset the perhaps downmarket view of the town that people had due to this. I can confirm that the area around the Thames is very pleasant indeed.

I should have swapped to the south bank at Chertsey. My route along the north bank involved me diligently following the instruction to revert to Shanks' pony at one point, soon after which the route ended abruptly at a ferry crossing. I decided to save myself some cash and I rode to Walton Bridge to resume my route on the south bank. At Hampton Court Bridge the path swaps to the north bank but I followed Hampton Court Road to cut off the meandering bend to Kingston upon Thames (note for the PopMaster quiz if I get on again: I don't think this is 'Kingston' that UB40 were singing about). Here, I decided to take a look at the town centre. I must say that I expected something more artisanal and quaint, akin to Richmond, but the bustling centre felt more like Croydon to me. Interesting though, was the artwork called 'Out Of Order,' which made use of a dozen red telephone boxes which were positioned like a row of tumbling dominoes. Interestingly, for many years Kingston was the administrative HQ of Surrey, in spite of having been within Greater London since 1965. The county council is now based in Reigate while the county town is still Guildford. Confusing, hey?

Eastward from here, cyclists will need to look out for the points where the Thames Path changes sides. It's definitely on the south bank via Richmond and Kew to Barnes, but I cut though Richmond Park to cut off further meanderings. Later on, I found myself diverted away from the north bank due to plush developments which reminded me of Dubai. There was a great view of the former Battersea Power Station across the water, which every Pink Floyd fan knows graces the cover of the band's 1977 album, 'Animals.'

I eventually arrived at Waterloo Station, where, having fallen foul of the 'no bikes on trains from 4pm-7pm' rule, which covers non-folding bikes on all trains leaving London, I sat watching people come and go, a bit like Ray Davies in the famous Kinks song. I eventually summoned the energy to check out the eateries, but I wasn't in the mood for splashing the cash (also a bit like Ray Davies, if the biography I read is to be believed) so I made do with a KFC while sitting on the pavement, as it was one of those seatless places. The surrounding area was also binless so I used a nearby wheelie-bin to deposit the detritus.

And with that, I was soon being whisked back to England's Garden. Two weeks later I would embark upon another two-day trip, this time riding the Flitch Way, a reasonably lengthy section of disused railway, now converted for the pleasure of walkers and cyclists. This runs across Essex from Braintree to Bishop's Stortford, which is just in Hertfordshire. A nearby woodland would provide me with another aircraft-dominated night's sleep, this time courtesy of Stansted, and the ride back across country to Chelmsford the following day would surprise me with myriad quaint villages with thatched cottages. Forget the stereotypes; a significant part of Essex could almost be described as a flattened out version of the West Country. And for the amateur cyclist, that really is no bad thing.

[Adam Colton is the author of 'Stair-Rods & Stars: A Cycling Perambulation']

Thoughts on 'PopMaster,' Sussex Cycling and Modern Music

It seems hard to believe that this is my first blog post of 2024 and it's nearly autumn already. So what of 2024 so far?

Following my appearance on Vernon Kay’s 'Ten To The Top' music quiz on BBC Radio 2 last year, I thought I'd give the original morning radio quiz, 'PopMaster,' a try. It was a pleasure to speak to Ken Bruce who has been a familiar radio voice to me since childhood. I managed to win with a score of 18, which was lower than my usual tally. I'm not sure if anyone would have believed me if I'd have said that I scored the maximum of 39 on one set of questions the day before! For the 'three in ten' I had Madonna. With over seventy UK hits to choose from I got lucky there.

Reassured of my musical credentials I've since released an updated version of my book '2021: A Musical Odyssey.' This started out as a lockdown project, where nights spent alone with a few drinks and an iPod resulted in me revisiting many albums that I'd discovered over the previous three decades, prompting nostalgia and memories which seemed ideal material for a book. But of course the 'musical odyssey' is something that never ends, so the book was expanded and re-released in 2023, and shoehorning a few more albums in, the 2024 reissue is now live - cheap as chips on Kindle and the bare minimum I'm allowed to charge on paperback (it's a reasonably hefty tome!).

However, imagine my despondency when I recently managed to lose my iPod with my entire CD collection on it somewhere near Chichester recently on a summer cycling jaunt.

The county town of West Sussex had proven fatal for me before – I lost a whole bike there once. I had left my bike against a gate to do what gentlemen sometimes do behind hedges and when I returned the bike had disappeared. Oddly I had felt a strange sensation of being watched before popping over the gate, but I put this down to the fact that a tractor was being driven up and down a field in the distance. When I returned I wondered if I had fallen prey to a ‘Derren Brown’ style mind trick, but there was no bike and no Derren. I would have been happy with either! I consequently had to walk the five miles back to Chichester Station along the Centurion Way in a state of total disbelief.

This time I couldn’t work out if I’d left my iPod on the train or lost it in ‘Spoons.’ After my evening meal I revisited both the pub and the station to no avail. As things grew crepuscular (it's always good to get that word into an article), I made my way to a wood near the Roman road to London (Stane Street) and camped. I returned in the morning to those same two locations to receive the same answer. At this point I felt like throwing in the towel and getting the next train home, especially as a huge grey cloud had been depositing wet stuff everywhere.

However, I jumped on my bike and headed eastward and it soon became a warm sunny day. By the end of the day I had almost reached Halland, which is just east of Ringmer, which is just east of Lewes, the county town of East Sussex. At 64 miles, this had been my longest ride since the nineties, eclipsing the 58-mile London to Brighton ride that I took part in in 2002. My longest ever ride is probably still the final day of a ride around Sussex that I did with a certain Mr Catchpole (now a slightly famous science dude thanks to COVID experiments) in 1994.

Anyway, it was with a sense of satisfaction that I dived into the bushes to camp after such a pleasant ride, aided by the wind. The section of the South Downs Way from Pyecombe to Lewes had been particularly rewarding in terms of scenery, with an ominous looking downpour staying just distant enough at this point not to cause alarm. The plan now was to cycle home to Kent from Halland the next day, but the weather had other ideas, and a rain-lashed start to the new day sent me scuttling back to Lewes for the train home. However, after the soaking I wasn’t leaving until I’d consumed a hearty ‘full English.’

Sometime later a familiar face at the local pub came to my rescue with an iPod that he no longer uses. I loaded it up with over 1,100 albums from my iTunes program (all of which I have CD copies of) and life could at last continue along the course it was on before this unfortunate aberration had occurred.

Not everyone was as sympathetic to my plight, with statements such as ‘Why do you need an iPod? Have you never heard of Spotify?’ It is probably old fashioned thinking, but to me if you actually have a physical copy of something you take the time to appreciate it more, and many albums, films and books require this extra bit of dedication to get more out of them.

What I frequently refer to as my favourite album (Pink Floyd’s ‘The Dark Side of the Moon’) left me cold upon first listening as a teenager. Imagine if it had been these days and I had been listening online – I would have simply moved on to something else – but as I’d parted with the best part of a fiver in John Menzies (remember that?) for a cassette I listened again. And again. And again… until its full awesomeness had revealed itself! I could say this about many of my favourite artists, particularly those of the zany variety such as Frank Zappa – again having physical copies made me put in the extra work and not dismiss it as ‘a cacophony.’ A lot of classical music requires repeated attentive listening too.

You could even argue that the modern way of listening to music has shaped the progression of popular music in a way that many of us over forty aren't so keen on. In past times, there were big changes in style every few years from rock & roll to Merseybeat, psychedelia, prog rock, glam rock, punk rock, disco, synth pop, techno, jungle, Britpop, and if you insist, rap, but it does seem that since the millennium I have heard very little that sounds genuinely new in style. Outkast's 'Hey Ya!' was perhaps the last time I heard something on the radio and thought 'I've never heard anything like that before.' I guess if rapid consumption is the name of the game, the market exists purely to put out something that sounds familiar, thus any 'top 40' you hear today could just have easily have come from fifteen years ago. In contrast, imagine playing the Sex Pistols to somebody in the early 1950s, or the latest jungle rave tape to somebody in the late 1970s.

Alternatively, I wonder if we have merely achieved everything that it is possible to achieve with music. Often technology led the progression, from the use of electric guitars to synthesisers and sequencers, but now that we've reached a stage where we can cut and paste anything into a song on a computer program, has the scope for innovation waned? Time will tell. In the meantime, check out the book for more reviews, nostalgia and musical musings. And don't forget to review the reviewer by leaving your ratings and thoughts on Amazon. Rock on...

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' [sic]. 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!).