Walking. Gossip. Travel.

Blog

Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Averill Woollsey and Benjamin Woollsey)

Another in my random series of posts about gravestones in Rosary Cemetery in Norwich.

Two things caught my eye about this gravestone at Rosary Cemetery, firstly, it’s very clean and secondly, the dates of death are very close. I assumed that it had been cleaned recently and so there might be a story on-line, but if there is, I can’t find it.

The grave is that of Averill Woollsey (nee Mitchell) who was born in 1775 and she died at the age of 69 on 15 April 1844. Benjamin Woollsey, the son of Benjamin Woollsey and Susanna Wells, was born on 13 December 1786 and baptised in St. Nicholas Church in North Walsham on 31 December 1786. The couple were married at St. Nicholas Church (now the Minster) in Great Yarmouth on 6 December 1812 and they moved to Norwich at some point to live on Magdalen Street.

Benjamin died on 16 April 1844, just one day after his wife, so unless he died very quickly of a broken heart, I assume that there was an illness or accident. However, there’s nothing in the media about it, just a notice that Robert Burcham, who was Benjamin’s business partner in running a corn and seed merchant, would continue the business alone.

This appeared in the local newspaper on 27 April 1844, the quick sale of all of the property which the couple owned. I can’t establish exactly which property he lived at on Magdalen Street, it would have added some colour to the thought of Benjamin’s stuff being carted out of it on Friday 2 May 1844. This remains another blog post without much of an answer, just a story without resolution of why they died so close together, and who has arranged for their gravestone to be cleaned and restored.

July 31, 2022
Wednesday : Prague Ibis to Prague Airport via Destroyed Russian Military Hardware

My final day in Prague and there are more photos on Flickr.

My final breakfast at the Ibis Prague Mala Strana, which I accept looks very similar to those from previous mornings. Blue cheese and spicy chorizo though, why stray away from such fine choices?

I decided that I’d get an all-day transport card which cost around £4 and I needed to get to the airport anyway. Excuse accidentally photographing my own finger, but I decided to get whatever tram came first at the stop and that happened faster than I had expected. I like doing this on trams (getting the random one I mean, not photographing my finger), as buses can go all over the place and be a little unpredictable, whereas tram tracks make it hard for the tram to stray very far.

It happened to be tram 12, which went in the same direction that I had failed to reach the previous day because the riverside path had been closed.

I got off at the Chaplin square tram stop, which for reasons unknown to me is named after Charlie Chaplin.

There looked like an interesting park, but my attempts to have a little look were slightly thwarted by this. There’s a little bit of a story here, as someone (visible in the photo to anyone looking carefully) was having a substantial argument with the digger driver (or whatever they’re called). I assume the driver was annoyed that a random member of the public had breached his cordon, but at least it provided some momentary excitement for me and others.

The public transport day ticket includes trams, the metro, ferries and the funicular railway. It proved to be a little challenging to get to the ferries to use them, but I’ll do that next time.

I thought that this was powerful, the Memorial to the Victims of Communism, comprising of seven bronze statues representing those who suffered under the period of communist oppression and terror.

The statues represent the same figure, but they show a more decayed figure as they go backwards, representing how communism destroyed lives. The strip through the middle shows a series of numbers, namely that 205,486 people were arrested, 170,938 were forced into exile, 4,500 died in prison, 327 were shot trying to escape and 248 were executed.

The nearby plaque reads:

“The memorial to the victims of communism is dedicated to all victims not only those who were jailed or executed but also those whose lives were ruined by totalitarian despotism”

Not wishing to distract from the powerful nature of the installation, but one of the figures seemed to resemble a Labour politician.

I didn’t like the representation of a snake quite so much.

I was going to have a little trip on the funicular railway, but the queue was very long and I’ve done it before numerous times so it didn’t seem worth the wait. And it was too hot, which I don’t think that I’ve mentioned on this post yet. I expect I’ll mention it again though.

This symbol is I think used by the Czech military, and the text on this one reads “Sergeant Major of NSG Jaroslav Janis Veren, the founder of the National Rifle Guards, laid down his life for the freedom of the nation”.

There was an exhibition at Letná Park that I wanted to see, although to my slight annoyance I realised that meant climbing another great big hill. But, I didn’t complain of course, not least as there was no-one apparent to complain to.

There were some nice views of Prague from the top of the mountain that I climbed in what I considered to be the extreme heat. I had several sit downs during the summit.

The Prague Metronome, installed here in 1991 and it’s one of the largest in the world standing 23 metres in height.

Before the metronome, this site was the location of a huge statue of Stalin (the largest representation of him in the world), built between 1949 and 1955 and designed by Otakar Švec, who killed himself a few weeks before the unveiling. The monument was blown up in 1962 after the Soviets started a process of disowning Stalin.

The quite ridiculous monument during the few years that it remained standing.

This was the exhibition that I had been looking for that I had seen in some national newspapers, a number of Russian vehicles and equipment that had been destroyed by the Ukrainians. It took me around 45 minutes of looking around the park as I didn’t know exactly where it was, not an entirely ideal situation given the heat.

The display of destroyed military hardware had previously been on display in Warsaw for a few weeks.

“Be Brave like Ukraine”. Very powerful and inspirational.

This display is located on Letná Park plain, an important location for pro-democracy movements over recent decades.

I’ve looked in many vehicles like this over the years, but that’s usually in museums and they’re from conflicts some decades ago. It is sobering to think that Russian troops were seated in here just a few weeks ago.

There were a few locals looking around the site, but this very much remains a city that is in solidarity with Ukraine with the number of blue and yellow flags and anti-Russian graffiti being testament to that.

A quick trip on the Prague Metro to have one final craft beer experience before getting the flight back to London.

I stopped at the Muzeum station to have a little wander about above ground and I was reminded by the quirky interior design of these underground arrangements.

I’ve written before about this Catholic Church built in 1932, which I note was carefully locked up to avoid anyone trying to use it to get peace and solace in. God forbid that there might be an open church for individuals to pray in. I was sitting on the benches nearby and there was an almighty bang and lots of screaming, which caused some people to run away. It transpired they were doing road repairs and had dropped something, with that noise then scaring some nearby people and that promptly resonated far and wide. I never left the bench I was sitting on, it was too hot. I’ve never been one to panic without good reason though.

A quick trip back to Beergeek, the city’s only Untappd Verified Venue, which I visited with Richard a few months ago.

I had come all the way to Prague and ordered a Vault City Brewing beer from the UK, but it’s a delightful brewery and I wasn’t disappointed with the Raspberry Kir Royale. Suitably refreshing on such a hot day.

My second beer was the Extra Cocoa Bananas from the local Sibeeria brewery and I very much liked the flavours, indeed a banana stout is one of my favourites, although it wasn’t quite rich enough to entire surprise and delight me. I like the cellar set-up here though, it’s interesting to peer through, with the service being as impeccable as before.

With that done, it was time to think about getting back to the airport and that involved one final visit for the moment on the Prague Metro.

All very well signed to connect to the airport bus, although it’s a shame that neither the Metro nor the tram network reaches the airport directly. This is apparently something they’ve planning to change as some random point in the future.

It would be very hard to miss the signage for the 119 bus.

It was also only a wait of a couple of minutes before the bus swept in. This efficiency of the public transport network meant that my plan to arrive three hours before my flight (which I thought was cutting it very fine) meant that I arrived four hours before my flight.

Back at the airport, and I have to say I was quite sad to be returning, primarily as I have such a long gap before returning to the EU and my favourite countries such as Poland.

And at the departures terminal, where I will pick up this scintillating (or something like that) story in the next post.

July 30, 2022
Tuesday : A Walk Along the River Vltava

This will be another of those posts where I took far more photos than I’ll use here, for anyone who wants to trawl through the whole lot, they’re at https://flickr.com/photos/julianwhite-uk/albums/72177720300849821. Don’t all rush at once…..

I mentioned yesterday about the rather lovely breakfasts at the Ibis hotel, with the additional bonus on this morning of doughnuts. It’s a great shame that more hotels don’t offer blue cheese for breakfast. And doughnuts actually. I also liked that the hotel had glasses of a decent size for the apple and orange juices, rather than the little thimbles that some offer.

This intriguing piece of street art is by the Czech artist Epos 257, a series of traffic signs in a mosaic design. There’s probably a greater meaning to it than that, but I’ll take the stance of letting individuals decide what it means.

My plan for the day was to walk along the Vltava river for some distance and see what happened. It seemed like a good plan when I started off anyway.

The path started off nice and shady with quite a rural feel to what is still a city centre location.

It was far too hot, but there was a breeze from the river and shade from the trees, I thought that it was all quite relaxing and scenic. I accept it wasn’t quite as hilly as whatever mountain range Dave Morgan is sweeping majestically over, but it was still a little adventure of some sorts.

I sat here for a while, contemplating that I’d be in Norwich for an entire month within just a couple of days.

The riverside path ran out here and so I was forced onto the road, but I was then reminded that if I walked for another two miles, then I’d come to a KFC. I was sold on that plan.

It’s a shame that the river path diverts up a bit at this point, but at least the water was still visible so there was some breeze.

I liked that boat thing that looked like a car.

There was some more opportunity for me to sit down on those logs, contemplating how brave that I was being by walking in such extreme heat.

I scrambled down the bank a bit here, hoping I didn’t somehow slip and fall in. I probably wouldn’t have mentioned anything about this if I had of done though to be fair.

I’m pleased to say that I didn’t fall in, but it was nice being right by the river.

Bloody typical. The riverside path was shut off with a barrier.

There was a diversion by the road, but it wasn’t quite the peaceful riverside setting that I had been enjoying.

At this point I could only cross the river over the bridge, or take those steps down in the hope that they reconnected with the river path.

I took the steps down and it transpired they’d been blocked off as well so they didn’t go anywhere.

With no choice, I had to cross the river here. This wasn’t entirely ideal as I had wanted to stay on the same side and also run into the KFC I had managed to incorporate into my plans, so that was that plan wrecked.

But, I decided to make the most of it as I never complain about anything, so I crossed the river.

I saw a few of these signs, often in random places, but they didn’t seem to actually be obeyed by everyone shall we say.

This is looking back across the river at what I would have walked along if it hadn’t all been blocked off.

Some of the artistic elements of the bridge, although I think the visual impact might have been stronger if it hadn’t got graffiti on it.

My plan to walk further along the river on the other side was also moderately ruined by it being shut. Only slightly annoyed, I thought I might as well walk back into the city centre.

Back on the shady riverside path, I was pleased once again. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but it was too hot and I was in need of shade.

It was far too hot, so I decided on popping into a petrol station to buy a couple of bottles of chilled drink. I then had a little lie down to cool down.

All quite idyllic, I must admit to enjoying the walk back into Prague.

These are the sort of yachts that I might be able to afford. And I don’t mean the ones at the back of the photo.

Fish of some sort and there plenty of people fishing along the river bank.

Some of the city’s fortifications and the entrance to the Vyšehrad tunnel.

I channelled my inner David Morgan to go storming up these steps. They’re much steeper than the photo suggests.

And I then stormed up these ones, albeit at a slightly slower pace. More Stuart from the NEC sort of pace.

The Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul, with the current building dating from between 1887 and 1903, although there’s been a church around this area since the late eleventh century. There was an admission fee and I have to admit on past visits to not being taken by the churches in Prague, not because of their design or heritage, but because they seem to be treated as cash cows in a way that I’ve never seen in countries such as Poland. If the authorities don’t think there’s enough interest, they lock the doors, or that’s how it has felt during previous visits to the city. In terms of tourism, that’s their right, but they do have an obligation to the communities which they serve.

There’s a lot of moral authoritarianism coming from the Vatican about what individuals should do (sometimes designed to be hurtful), but not a great deal of what their churches should be doing. In Poland, a strongly Catholic country, there’s a welcome that is evident in just about every church I’ve been, even in the most tourist of locations, I hope in the future that becomes more apparent here as well. I at first thought that it was perhaps the communist authorities in the then Czechoslovakia that had changed the ethos of what churches can offer, but it appears to be issues within the Czech Republic itself, as is evidenced at https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2019/01/02/once-the-same-nation-the-czech-republic-and-slovakia-look-very-different-religiously/.

But, anyway, my random complaining and plunging towards religious debate aside, that’s why there are no photos inside the church.

The church’s graveyard was free to enter and was a peaceful environment which was well looked after.

The church from the side, it all feels well proportioned.

A memorial to those who died from communism.

Some artwork in the Vyšehrad complex, of which the church was part. It’s not known, but this might have been the fortified area from where Prague grew, it’s certainly located high enough up the hill to make it hard to attack (or walk up in the heat). Initially this area was a Royal Palace, but in the fourteenth century it was abandoned and the other fort on the other site of the river, Prague Castle, became the home of the Monarchs. Much of what exists now, including the church, is due to remodelling of the area in the late nineteenth century.

The fortifications, heavily repaired, as there are only small parts of the Middle Ages constructions still standing.

A little promenade on which to overlook Prague. I had been walking on that far riverbank in the morning.

I thought I was really quite brave walking to these dizzying heights whilst it was so hot.

Looking back towards the city centre.

I needed to head back to the hotel as there was an LDWA zoom meeting that I needed to attend, a handy excuse to get out of the heat. Actually, I should stop mentioning the heat, I think I’ve written twice now just how hot it was.

I had saved my welcome drink voucher for when I was back at the hotel. I had the choice of getting something from the bar area, or any drink from the little shop next to reception.

I had a quick walk around the city after the Zoom meeting, my final night in the European Union for what will be months…..

July 29, 2022
Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (James Foreman)

Another in my series of posts about the Rosary Cemetery in Norwich.

This is one of the photos of graves that I took at random in the Rosary Cemetery and I’ve failed to establish much about it. This goes into the category of hoping someone sends me something useful to add to this page, which does happen occasionally.

In short, it’s the grave of James Foreman, who was born in 1792 and died on 6 February 1860 at the age of 68, with his wife, Mary Ann Foreman who died on 19 December 1858 at the age of 59. They had four children, including Walter, Randal, Byron and Mary. There’s only two mentions of James that I can find in the press, which is when his daughter got married to Richard Middleton at Surlingham Church in late 1855 and when she died in 1870.

James was a miller at Surlingham Mill, now demolished, but I think it stood around here on the appropriately named Mill Street. Which got me thinking, as he lived in Magdalen Street in 1841 when he was a miller, and that’s quite a trek to get to work, about a 4 mile walk each way. Cycles were rare before 1850, so I have no idea whether millers stayed where they were in the mill or commuted to work as it were. I’m suspecting the latter, as the family entirely disappeared for the 1851 census, so they must have been holed up somewhere odd where they were missed. Given his daughter got married at Surlingham church, I’m going with the idea they lived locally and didn’t fill in the census. It’s either that or the family moved to Newmarket, where some of the 1851 census is missing, but that sounds unlikely. I also can’t work out exactly where on Magdalen Street the family lived in 1841 and the enumerator seems to have been slightly drunk when traversing his way across the city.

This has led me to spend some of my evening wondering how exactly people moved about the place in the 1840s (I probably need to get out more), although Brundall railway station opened in 1844 and he could have caught that from Norwich and got the ferry across the river Yare. The railways must have been such an empowering moment for those who needed to get about the county and I like to think that James caught them every now and then to get to Surlingham. Quite why I find that reassuring, I have no idea.

July 29, 2022
Monday : The Smíchov District of Prague

I very much liked everything about Ibis Praha Mala Strana where I was staying, a clean and functional room which was keenly priced and also included breakfast. Bearing this handy chart in mind, I went for the breakfast option at around 07:30, as often breakfast rooms can get quite crowded. I needn’t have been concerned (although I quite like being pre-worried) as there was plenty of space and the environment was calm and peaceful despite it being relatively busy.

A nice little selection of pastries and breads.

But this was one of the best Ibis breakfast spreads in terms of meats and cheeses that I’ve seen, this standard is drifting off towards Sofitel. The photo doesn’t really show the full range of cheeses (they were replaced soon afterwards with a fresh board), which included a blue cheese that I became very fond of. And that spicy chorizo type meat arrangement, quite delightful.

This is how a day should start.

Some sort of memorial to František Ringhoffer II (1817-1873) who was a Prague businessman with commercial interests in brewing and railways (sounds a rather nice little mixture). He was also the Mayor of Smíchov, a district of Prague, and I had decided to stay in this area for the day to see what there was to see. It’s an area of the city that I haven’t much explored before, once quite an industrial area, but today it’s got a more on-trend feel to the arrangements. Smíchov was a city in its own right between 1903 and 1921, although it has now become as just a suburb of Prague.

It was too hot, but I decided that I’d just have to be brave and explore the city anyway, reminding myself that this was the day of the heatwave in the UK and so at least it was cooler here. The building in the background is Zlatý Anděl, an administrative and commercial building, that was completed in 2000 and was designed by Jean Nouvel. Trams sweep through the city and people seem unconcerned by them, rushing across just before they go by.

I had a little meander along the Vltava River.

The Palacký Bridge, constructed in 1876 and still standing. Mainland Europe lost so many bridges during the Second World War when they were destroyed to slow down various military movements, but fortunately there wasn’t quite the same level of destruction in Prague. The damage that did take place was mostly by the United States air force who managed to miss all the military targets and caused huge levels of damage to residential areas. That was primarily because the air force had got Dresden and Prague muddled up, not an arrangement that was ideal and it caused much anti American sentiment for some time.

There were a disappointingly low number of benches not in the fierce heat of the sun. It’s a reminder of just how important tree cover is in cities and although Prague has many parks, there’s still a need for more trees. And craft beer bars.

I became moderately obsessed with the paving they use in Prague, which is hand laid as individual blocks. Doing that sort of thing must require a lot of patience and I saw a couple of separate road repairs where they were carefully sitting there placing them down in intricate patterns.

There are little heaps of the rocks near a number of construction projects.

There are a number of these floating hotels, or botels, in Prague, this one is the Botel Admirál. The room rates are reasonable, although looking at the reviews, there’s a problem with internal noise. I might still try and book onto one of these if I return to Prague in the future, something a little different.

The big industrial site still in the area is the Staropramen Brewery, first opened here in 1869 and with the beer starting to flow from 1871. I can imagine a day in the not too distant future that production will be moved out of this city centre site, just as it has in numerous other locations in the UK where the land is worth more for residential. It also gives the brewery chance to build purpose built new facilities rather than working around the limitations of the old buildings.

The entrance to the Staropramen factory.

With all that walking about in the hot weather, I felt that I deserved a little drink and this is the beer selection at Beertime. This is one of the advantages in confining travels to a limited area, I wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise, but it’s actually a delightful bar which was already busy when I arrived at 11:30. The staff were friendly, pro-active and helpful, it was a really comfortable environment.

I started off with something more refreshing than anything else, the IPL Strata from Pivovar Permon.

Some teriyaki chicken wings to go with the beer and it was at this point that I realised all of the food and drink was 30% off at lunchtime. This made things very agreeable indeed. The staff were asking for tips and so I gave 10% on the machine, still feeling that I had paid less than I had expected. The chicken wings were delicious incidentally, even though they provided that mound of celery and carrot to the side.

The Mole Stole My Bananas from Sibeeria Brewery, this had a slightly artificial edge, but was still delicious, a 10.7% imperial stout with a taste of bananas running through it. I was impressed at the beer selection, it crossed a number of different styles and was reasonably priced, especially given the lunchtime discount. I think if I lived in Prague this might be a regular lunchtime spot to visit.

Kostel svatého Václava, or St Wenceslas Church, which was constructed between 1881 and 1885, designed by Antonín Viktor Barvitius.

This is all that visitors to the church can see at the moment in the porchway, as the building is kept locked. I had some concerns about the Catholic Church in Prague last time I visited, it seems that they feel churches should be inaccessible, unwelcoming and used primarily as cash cows. It’s unfortunate, although if that’s what they want, that’s up to them.

I poked my camera through to the inside as the authorities had carefully locked it up. I can’t help thinking how sad it is that anyone wanting to speak to someone, to find some solace or to pray quietly is shut out. This is another church that I felt was run by the authorities for the authorities, not for the community in which it serves.

There’s no shortage of international brands in the city.

Indeed this was useful knowledge the following day where the temperatures reached quite ridiculous levels and I needed to find refreshment.

I rather liked the design of this building, built in 1908 as a market building although later converted into a shopping centre and then partly changed into a library.

I thought that I’d have a little recover in the hotel room before meandering back out in the heat, it’s much cooler during the early evening.

Dětský Island, which is still in the Smíchov area, which I was careful to stay inside. It takes its name, translated to Children’s Island, as they’ve built a playground and sports facilities here.

There were lots of people walking along the river, it’s a lovely little stretch.

My plan to exit the island at the other end failed, it’s blocked off. I pretended that I already knew this and walked back in a manner where I didn’t look surprised. I did this by casually looking at my phone throughout (to suggest I was messaging and not looking at a map) and walking calmly without an annoyed look. I thought that was very British.

This party boat looked a little raucous to me. Actually, I’m not sure the people on it would describe themselves as party goers, but this looks like something my friend Richard would enjoy, sailing down the river, drinking wine and shouting.

I opted instead for another bar rather than sailing down the river. This is Craft Beer Spot, a handily named bar which had entirely passed me by until I was near to it and suddenly it appeared on Google Maps. I suspected that it might be busy as it was well reviewed and it was a warm evening, but I got there and there were no other customers. Indeed, it took a good three minutes for a staff member to arrive at the bar. The service was though friendly and conversational, so it felt like a welcoming environment and I liked it here.

The tap list was chalked up on two blackboards as well as being printed. Another well balanced beer menu, with lots more options in the beer fridge. Actually, the beer fridge options were very tempting, but I didn’t have my bag and I didn’t want to balance a random selection of cans (although they would have been decadent cans, but that might not be obvious to others) along the street in case people thought that I wasn’t a sophisticated drinker and instead looked more like a British yob.

Hot dogs go very well with beer I find and there was a bit of heat behind this one. Inexpensive and delicious, what more could I want?

The red sky. Someone walking by looked up at what I was taking a photo of, they appeared disappointed and they probably thought I was an idiot.

The Fall of Time Fountain. For a long time, this was where the communists shoved a tank to mark the Soviet ‘liberation’ of Prague although it became a laughing stock in 1991 when local artist David Černý painted it pink. He was arrested and it was repainted green, but then 15 MPs immediately painted it pink again, so they decided to remove the tank and instead the fountain sits in its place. There’s a lot more about this whole story at https://www.widewalls.ch/magazine/monument-to-soviet-tank-crews-david-cerny.

As mentioned earlier, I like trying to stay within a confined area during a random walkabout, as it forces me to find things that of some interest to me that I might not have otherwise seen. Otherwise it’d be easy to head off for major tourist sites or the bars that I’d visited before, but there was more than enough in this district of Prague to amuse me. Plenty of craft beer bars, some history and a pleasant riverside walk, it’s an under-rated part of the city although easily accessible by public transport.

July 28, 2022
Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Victor Lambert Anscombe)

Back to my much neglected little series about burials at the Rosary Cemetery in Norwich. During lockdown I looked up quite a few CWGC graves and also found some errors in the official record, which they kindly always corrected for me, which I accept was quite an odd little hobby.

This is the war grave of Private Victor Lambert Anscombe. There’s a photo of Victor at https://norfolk.spydus.co.uk/cgi-bin/spydus.exe/ENQ/WPAC/BIBENQ?SETLVL=&BRN=721081&FMT=IMG. Norfolk County Council stomp their feet very loudly about not allowing use of these images directly on third party sites, which I think is a shame, particularly when it’s someone who died in the First World War whose image deserves to be shared widely.

Victor was born in Wicklewood, near Wymondham, in 1899. Victor’s father was Frederick Anscombe who had been born in 1871 and worked as a shopkeeper, but he had died a few years before the outbreak of the First World War. Victor’s mother was Emma Sophia Anscombe, nee Tuttle, and he also had a little brother, Alan Frederick Anscombe, who was born in 1902.

At the 1901 census, the family had lived at Rattle Row in Wymondham, but by 1911 and following the death of Frederick, they had moved to Damgate Street in Wymondham. They lived there with Emma’s parents, Frederick J and Sophia Tuttle. Just before the advent of the First World War, they had moved to 37, St Julian Street in Norwich. Sadly, this street was destroyed during some badly planned slum clearance, although the line of the street is similar to that of Rouen Road today. I’ve moaned about this damage in another blog post. There’s something additionally sad when so little trace of the life of a young person remains, with the old properties in Rattle Row having also been pulled down, although the street remains.

Victor went along to the Drill Hall (I think the Chapel Field one, rather than the Bethel Street one, a gothic style building constructed in the Victorian period which incorporated part of the city wall but which was demolished to build the ring road in 1963) in Norwich on 8 July 1915 to sign up and he was given service number 185075. His records have survived, so avoided the fate of many others which were destroyed during an air raid fire during the Second World War, showing that he was 5’3″ tall, he had a 33 inch waist and green eyes. He was working at a cycle engineer at the time of his signing up and he joined the 4th Norfolk Regiment. He was then moved to the Machine Gun Corps, B Training Battalion, although it’s not clear to me where he served after that. Victor was injured on 18 October 1918, moved to the military hospital at Cannock Chase, where he died of pneumonia on 2 November 1918.

When Victor was away, his mother married James Gasson (born in 1886) in the second quarter of 1917, who worked as a carpenter. Victor’s estate went to probate and it was valued at £127 19s. The years after Victor’s death must have been difficult for his mother, as she had already lost her first husband, her son in the war and then her other son, Alan, died in 1951. Emma died on 28 December 1967.

The memorial on Victor’s grave reads “may the grace of God surround him”.

July 28, 2022
Sunday : Canterbury to Prague via London Victoria

The weekend in Canterbury had gone quickly and the four of us in Carena House waved goodbye to the landlady. It was a clean B&B (actually, it was more of a B as there was no breakfast included), although quite quirky, but the welcome was friendly enough, even when Richard changed rooms for reasons unknown. But, I don’t get involved in these matters.

We walked to Tannery Field and had a little look at the bull, designed by local artist Steven Portchmouth. There’s a double purpose to that sculpture, it marks that this was a tanning site, but also that there was a tannery rail track, so they’ve replicated the rails in the artwork.

And there’s some more information about the bull for those who want to know even more.

It was a similar walk to the previous day, with West Gate in the background. It was still too hot.

Back in Wetherspoons, which I accept shows a complete lack of originality, but I didn’t have long and there was a power point here which was handy for ensuring my devices were fully charged for the day ahead. The poached egg was only just runny, they keep getting these wrong now, but that’s my fault, I probably should have gone to a local cafe.

Back again also to Canterbury West railway station, where we set off from the day before.

And the sizeable waiting room, with an absence of power points. I had another little debacle at this railway station, as I had stupidly used my Chase card to buy my rail ticket. The collection machine was having none of it, but this is a known fault with Chase cards on the network, as confirmed both by them and also by Great Western Railways. Chase had said the workaround was for the ticket desk to print the ticket (which isn’t really a solution to their dodgy arrangements in this area), but the man on the desk said he couldn’t do that. I wasn’t going to argue, although I’ve noted that other ticket desks have managed to, but he was helpful enough to wave me through the barriers so I could get to the platform.

My plan was to go and speak immediately to the train guard to tell him of my little predicament, which was a good strategy. The guard said he couldn’t print the ticket either as his machine didn’t have that functionality (there’s a lot of little issues in terms of consistency within the rail network), but that it didn’t matter, he’d wave me through the barriers at London Victoria.

Another routine complaint of mine, there isn’t space in a rail carriage for five seats across, and I am unanimous in that…. Anyway, we got about 100 metres down the track before the Southern ticket inspectors came to interrogate passengers, but fortunately, the train guard noted this and told the inspectors I had a ticket but the machine was broken at the railway station. The inspectors looked confused, as the machine wasn’t broken, just it wouldn’t print my ticket, but they didn’t pursue the matter. They came back through the train twice, with one of them forgetting they had spoken to me already, but the other was more alert.

That meant at London Victoria station I had to get through the barrier as I still didn’t have a ticket printed out. The customer in front of me told the gate guard that “the guard had forgotten to print my ticket” which was not an excuse that was accepted. For about two minutes there was an argument about this, with the gate guard saying that he didn’t believe the guard on-board had forgotten, and even if he had, the customer should have reminded him. Voices were raised and it was bloody clear that the customer didn’t have a ticket, but he was let through anyway. This is a fault with the rail network, what’s the point of this expensive set-up if people are just let through anyway? I was slightly worried that the gate guard would instead have an argument with me, but I showed him my booking reference for the ticket that I couldn’t print and I was let through without dispute. I think it’s fair to say, it’s not hard to get through those barriers without a ticket.

It was time then to get on the Victoria Line for a couple of stops, to then board the Piccadilly Line to get to Heathrow, a moment of excitement as that meant a few days overseas, the last I’d get for several weeks. No delays here, all was going well.

Back at Heathrow T5, which wasn’t particularly busy despite all the fears of overwhelmed airports. The flights that have been trimmed seemed to have helped operations though, with the wait at security being relatively minimal.

The BA lounge has gone from self-service to order via app, back now to order at a counter. Here’s the menu for the lounge, a choice of meatballs, pie, vegetable curry or vegan balls.

I opted for two steak pies with a can of Brewdog Jet Stream, living the dream…. These pies aren’t world class, but they’re moreish (as are many things with me) and sufficiently tasty for my needs, especially when I get chance to ask for extra gravy.

These raw juices were rather delicious, although I suspect I overdosed on fruit with them. There was no fruit health warning in the area which I felt that there could have been.

There’s the green sludge of the raw juice in the background. And another highlight, crisps have finally returned to the lounge, so what a time to be alive!

And even more excitingly (I don’t get out much), the ice cream has returned to the freezers.

The flight was departing from Gate A1 but I wasn’t entirely sure this was well managed, as there weren’t enough seats and there was a paucity of announcements. Standing there for thirty minutes was fine in terms of time, although the terminal in this area was quite hot.

None of these dispensers were functioning at the airport, another one of Heathrow’s little short cuts I imagine.

Ready to board the BA0858 flight to Prague on aircraft G-EUYT, which I’ve travelled on before when going from Heathrow T5 to Warsaw.

The interior of the aircraft and I had an exit row seat by the window. The flight was very busy and at near capacity, so there was the usual faffing around trying to fit ridiculous numbers of arguably oversized bags into the overhead lockers.

We took off over 30 minutes late, which is always slightly frustrating on a night flight, especially when I had plans to catch the last bus of the day in Prague. Fortunately, we landed on time as the pilots were able to make up the time during the flight. There was nothing much notable about the flight, which is always a positive as far as I’m concerned.

The standard in-flight snack of crisps and a small bottle of water.

At Prague airport and there was more queueing as UK travellers now need a stamp in their passport. Fortunately my fast walking had meant the queue wasn’t too long when I arrived, I think I was through border control in under ten minutes.

Rather random, but I liked the little aircraft shaped holes they had made in the benches. I had visited Prague a few months ago and remembered where the ticket machines were to buy bus tickets, something which saved a few minutes of uncertainty.

I caught the last 191 bus of the day, with just a couple of minutes to spare. It wouldn’t have mattered as a night service then kicked in, but this saved me over thirty minutes, so I pleased to be able to catch it.

The bus journey takes around 40 minutes and I was fortunate with my hotel choice, as there was a bus stop just a one minute walk away. It goes direct from the airport to the city centre, or at least the west bank of the river so that people can take another bus or tram to get elsewhere in Prague.

Off the bus and ready for my big one minute walk to the hotel. It’s rare that they’re such short treks at this time of night and I had already alerted the hotel that I’d be late. I’m not sure they care to be honest as they have 24 hour reception desks, but I like to let the hotel know of my plans in case they flog off my room to someone else and they replied promptly and politely telling me all was fine with arriving late.

And here it is, the Ibis Praha Mala Strana, a well reviewed Accor hotel on the west side of the river which isn’t an area that I’ve much explored before in my previous visits to the city. The entrance, for reasons unknown, is tucked away on the far side of the building, but the signage was sufficiently clear for me not to get muddled up.

Typically, someone had just checked in despite it being after midnight, so I had a little bit of a wait, but that gave me enough time to take photos of their shop area. The staff here were always friendly and welcoming, this transpired to be one of my favourite Accor hotels.

My welcome gift was doughnuts and I was very pleased indeed with that. I just knew that this was my sort of hotel.

And the room, the standard Ibis layout, all clean and comfortable. I’m still quite content with this sort of room layout, it’s functional, it has a desk, working wi-fi and space for storage. Given that I had such a late arrival into Prague, I was surprised that I was able to make such timely progress to be in the hotel just after midnight. That gave me enough sleep before breakfast, but more on that in the next riveting instalment of this blog as it transpired to be relatively memorable (or as memorable as a hotel breakfast can realistically be).

July 27, 2022
Saturday : Hike Norfolk Walk St. Augustine’s Way and a Night at Bills

Our longer walk for the weekend was the 17 mile expedition along the St. Augustine’s Way, although we only did the Minster to Canterbury section. Dave, Steve, Richard and I enjoyed a little pre-walk walk, along the Great Stour river.

My pre-walk meal of Avocado muffins at the West Gate Inn, one of two JD Wetherspoon outlets in Canterbury.

After some arranging of people into little groups to buy Group Saver tickets for the railway journey to Minster, we cluttered up the platform. Gordon questioned what he was doing in terms of the walk, but we were confident that he could complete the expedition, he’s a very brave man. But, despite that, he thought that he’d better have a little sit down before the main event started.

And off we go, 21 of us on the train. I should mention of course that the LDWA have a page about this walk, at https://ldwa.org.uk/ldp/members/show_path.php?path_name=Way+of+St+Augustine.

Safely in Minster and I liked how the train guard came out to check that’s actually where we wanted to get off, as I think he had been expecting us to get off at Ramsgate. That is where the St. Augustine’s Way actually starts (or ends) but that distance would have been a bit much for the group to have got done in the time that we had. Note Steve’s awareness that a photo was being taken, whilst others were rather less prepared.

Minster Abbey which came to an end following the Dissolution of the Monasteries and after being taken over by the Crown, it became a residential property. That might have been the end of the religious connection to the site, but in 1937 a group of Benedictine nuns took it over and it has remained a nunnery since then.

The Grade I listed St. Mary’s Church in Minster where there has been a Christian building since 670. That’s certainly some hallowed ground there.

The obvious Norman features aren’t later copies or inserted by the Victorians, the nave dates to the middle of the twelfth century.

The chancel, which dates to the thirteenth century.

The church’s muniment chest and as the sign notes, it’s from the medieval period, although the oak lid is older than the elm chest itself.

The font and the cover behind it are both from the fifteenth century. If any member of the congregation from that time had somehow walked in over 500 years later, they’d find very little had changed, I’m sure that they would be most reassured.

With that we were off on the main part of the walk, led by Steve as he had completed the entire route the previous year. He pointed out the little Camino stickers we needed to look out for.

Richard got his bag stuck in a tree, but I helpfully assisted him out of his predicament. Richard blamed poor Liam for the situation who wasn’t even on the weekend, but I didn’t get involved.

A slightly rickety bridge, but it was sufficient for our group to get across.

It was too hot, so having a pub open just after 11.00 was particularly useful, this is the Dog and Duck in the beautifully named village of Plucks Gutter. Wikipedia give the etymology of the village’s name, although I have no idea whether this is true or not:

“The hamlet is named after a Dutch Drainage Engineer called Ploeg, whose grave is in All Saints Church, West Stourmouth. Ploeg, being the Dutch for a plough, the hamlet takes its origins from the Dutch Protestant tradition of draining marshland by creating a ploughed ditch”.

A quick half, this was the Master Brew from Shepherd Neame which was well kept although unexceptional, but given the heat, it was sufficiently refreshing. I haven’t seen American Express hand sanitiser before, which seemed a little odd in terms of branding. Someone from American Express pondered what they could brand in a pub and they went for the hand sanitiser….

Relaxing in the beer garden, I tried to get in the shade.

The next stage of the adventure, after walking through the beer garden, involved walking along the river which was ideal with some tree cover and breeze from the water. Although it was still too hot, but I didn’t moan about that and just got on with it of course.

Some more information about St. Augustine’s Way, or the trail as this sign refers to it. Woodland areas were a real boon during the walk, the open sweeping Kent plains were rather less delightful when there was no shade. Susan had decided to take an umbrella around with her, which was one of the most sensible decisions of the day as far as I was concerned, she was entirely in the shade all day and I was quite jealous. I suggested to Richard that he carry around one of the pub’s parasols to keep us shady, but he refused for reasons unknown.

The Red Lion in Stodmarsh, a pub which offered a very friendly welcome and which as a food based pub I had expected to be full on a Saturday afternoon. The reverse seemed to be the case and they could have served food to our entire group if we would have had time, but some decadent crisps did instead. They’re from the Taste of Game range and the options at the pub were:

Grouse and Whinberry

Smoked Pheasant and Wild Mushroom

Wild Duck and Plum Sauce

Wild Boar and Apple

The aim of the crisps is to encourage people to try game, which hasn’t worked for me as I’m not exotic enough to start ordering grouse and the like, it’s not something that Greggs specialises in. Anyway, I seem to have now got myself distracted writing about crisps. The pub has quite an exotic and adventurous menu, something a little different and they deserve to do well.

St. Mary’s Church in Stodmarsh, not a church that we went in, but it dates from the twelfth century with a major restoration having taken place at the end of the nineteenth century.

St Andrews Church in Wickhambreaux, a Saxon name for the village, from ‘wic’ which is a fortified town and ‘ham’ meaning homestead, which was its Domesday name, Wicheham. The ‘breaux’ bit is later, named after a local family and to avoid confusion with two other locations with similar names.

The interior of the Grade I listed church and it’s notable because of the glass, with the listed building record noting:

“The east window has Art stained glass of the Annunciation dated 1896 and signed Arild Rosenrrantz. The New York Times of 1896 reported that this was the first commission in Europe to be given to American glassmakers.”

The nave with its coloured roof, with much of this interior being from the late Victorian period.

Back in Canterbury and this, St Martin’s, is the oldest parish church in the English speaking world, having first been used for prayer in 597. It was relevant to our walk as it was the site where St. Augustine had his mission headquarters and King Æthelberht was baptised here.

The church’s tower and there’s bits of Roman brick that were used in the construction.

Inevitably there have been many structural changes over the centuries, although some of the early core of the building from the pre-conquest days does still remain. The tower is much later and it’s evident how bits have been added on to the building, fortunately without the Victorians trying to unify the whole arrangement by standardising windows and the like. Along with Canterbury Cathedral and St. Augustine’s Abbey, this church is part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The Hike Norfolk group having a little rest at the entrance to the church. Everyone had done very well, especially given the heat that we had all endured. Gordon had been very brave, and although Richard was limping around a bit, he had also done marvellously. Indeed, he has been inspired to take part in an LDWA challenge event, so very exciting! Jonathan and Richard had got separated from the group towards the end of the walk, but with a little bit of me shouting and Jonathan using his exploration skills, we met up again soon enough.

All that’s left of the St George the Martyr church in the city, notable for being where the playwright Christopher Marlowe was baptised. Unfortunately, it was hit by a bomb on 1 June 1942 which destroyed most of the building and also the nearby house where Marlowe was born. The remains of the structure remained standing until 1955, but rather than keep them, it was decided to pull them down and only save the tower.

And the end of the walk and our little pilgrimage, we had reached the locked doors of the gateway into Canterbury Cathedral. Richard tried to get a taxi back to the B&B, but couldn’t find one, so he came back with a small group of us, where we enjoyed a couple of hours peace and quiet following our brave adventure. If you complete the pilgrimage route you can visit the cathedral for free, but since we had only done part of the route and the cathedral was shut, it was fairly evident we wouldn’t be getting in for free.

The evening meal was at Bills in Canterbury and I’m glad that they could cater for a group of 21 people with what seemed complete ease. We had to wait ten minutes after our booking time whilst they cleared down the previous table, but all else was efficient.

The beer choice wasn’t exceptional, but there were a least a few options so I can’t overly complain and it was certainly reasonable for a chain restaurant. The restaurant didn’t seem surprised and delighted with my announcement that I didn’t want put drinks putting on the tab, which is a common policy with Hike Norfolk to ensure that nothing is left over at the end as someone has forgotten it. The restaurant wanted what would likely be 50 drinks placed on a bill which we would later identify who had ordered what, but they in the end let us order from the bar as we went along. That little issue aside, the service was friendly and engaging for the rest of the evening and the staff were always personable.

The starter of spiced crab cakes and that green chilli dip was rather delicious. I was impressed that they got all 21 dishes out on time and at the appropriate temperature with no issues. We had pre-ordered, although I had managed to forget someone’s main course, although the restaurant coped admirably with adding that. I like to think they get even more demanding customers than me…..

The main course of half a roasted chicken, which was slightly unusually served with fried potatoes, instead of the usual chips, which seemed a rather good idea. The garlic aioli added some extra taste to the whole arrangement, which was more filling than the photos suggested.

I probably didn’t need a dessert, but as I had pre-ordered one, I forced myself to eat it. I’m unsure why they’re using the same plates as Wetherspoons, but that’s a different matter. This is the Eton Colada with fresh pineapple, coconut, cream, meringue and ice cream and a cherry on top, served in a 1970s type pineapple thing.

It had been a long day and it was nearing 23.00 by the time we left the restaurant, so we meandered back off to our various accommodation options. It was still slightly too warm in Canterbury and it was clear that I had managed to get a sunburnt neck, but fortunately we were distracted by all of Richard’s ailments to think of our own.

Some of the classy design arrangements at the B&B.

And it looks like I’ve done the handiwork in the bathroom, although Richard, Steve and Dave commented that they had similar grouting which looked like it had been laid out with a trowel.

Thanks to Steve for organising the walk and thanks to me for organising the trip, I thought it was a very enjoyable day and there were no fights, so that’s a win.

July 26, 2022
Friday : Off to Canterbury for Hike Norfolk Weekend

After a little milling around central London, including around St. Paul’s where it was too hot, I shuffled in the intense heat to get the Central Line to the delights of Wanstead. Richard and Dave were picking me up from Redbridge and since I wanted to get there early, I thought I’d wait in the nearby Wetherspoons, around a fifteen minute walk away.

I’m not sure what interesting things I can say about Wanstead Underground Station. Work started on it in the 1930s, but the Second World War got in the way, so it didn’t open until 1947. It was designed by Charles Holden (1875-1960) who had been heavily involved in designing War Graves Commission cemeteries after the end of the First World War.

More a photo for Untappd than for entering in any photography competitions, but this is the Tropical Crush from Portobello Brewing. I found a table with a power point nearby and got myself fully charged for the big journey, as it’s best to be prepared with Richard driving. He’ll read this, but he only reads the post that gets emailed to him when I publish it, I don’t think he’s worked out I change posts afterwards if I find that additional gossip is needed.

The Wetherspoons is the George, a rather grand former hotel and it’s relatively well reviewed, and I found everything to be in order. I quite liked this review though:

“I went to the George pub and the service was very bad as the food took so long to arrive and I did not get served until 8.45pm when I did order at 7pm, so I was very angry with the people who served me so I will not be going there ever again.”

There’s something about the very angry that intrigues me. It’s quite an early JD Wetherspoon outlet, they took it over in 1992 and dropped the Hotel from the pub’s name, although I do wonder what they’re doing with all that space. The hotel had been built in 1903, replacing an earlier pub which was called the George and the Dragon.

Anyway, with that drink enjoyed and my devices fully charged, I walked along the side of a busy road (on a pavement, but nonetheless, the walk isn’t ideal) to meet Richard and Dave at Redbridge. A quick phone call to the restaurant to confirm the evening’s meal arrangements were as I expected, and we were off. Now, Richard told us some funny stories about his trip to France, but, unfortunately, he has imposed a DSMA-Notice on this blog so I can’t post about those details. Dave or I can recount them on request though.

After checking into the B&B, which was an experience I’ll return to, we then rushed off to the pub, as Richard is pub obsessed. This is the Tribute from St Austell Brewery at the Three Tuns pub, which I choose as a quick stop despite it being Greene King. It was well kept, although it’s never going to be a beer to write home about. The pub dates from the fifteenth century and apparently there are remains of a Roman theatre underneath the building. And today, it’s a Greene King pub which isn’t quite as exciting.

Next it was a stop at the Foundry Brew pub, which is Untappd listed and Good Beer Guide pub listed. Unfortunately, I was unable to secure this location for the group meal, but I did need to have a little examination of their beers as they’re the brewpub of Canterbury Brewers. I won’t drone on for too long here, the beers were all well kept and tasted of a reasonable quality, but nothing particularly stood out other than the Itzamna, their imperial porter. Decadent with tastes of vanilla and chocolate, all very lovely. I liked the care they took with noting which beer was which on the laminated sheet, that was much appreciated and rather professional.

Gordon in front of Patisserie Valerie, as it’s a location he likes telling a funny story about.

I had struggled to book a table for the Friday night, but this was the location of choice, the Millers Arms. Steve kindly gave an excellent little talk about the Camino that he’s just walked, several weeks of 22 miles a day on average, all very courageous. I think it’s fair to say that he inspired a fair few people around the table. He also gave details of the walk that we were undertaking on the following day, which was part of St. Augustine’s Way.

Onto the food, which exceeded my expectations to be honest. Tender fish, a rich batter which remained crispy and had a depth of taste, with skin on fries which had a suitable fluffy interior. Nicely garnished, well presented and with sufficient tartare sauce, although that’s hidden at the back of the photo. It complemented the Double Stout from Shepherd Neame, who operate this pub, really rather well. Although, to be fair, I think stout complements nearly anything, I’m not that fussy.

The Millers Arms was a decent pub, I liked it, and it’s a hotel as well for those who want somewhere to stay. Everything felt professionally managed, they certainly didn’t let me down.

And with that, it was time for a few of us to visit the pub. Gordon ran off, which was really not ideal, but sufficient numbers stayed out as there was a Good Beer Guide pub that I hadn’t been to still left to visit.

The Thomas Tallis Alehouse was where I took everyone, a quirky arrangement as the pub doesn’t even have a bar. I liked pubs that are different and the Good Beer Guide didn’t let me down here.

There’s a nice little beer selection there, I think young Nathan would have been happy with that.

I had thought that it would be busier on a Friday evening, but unfortunately, not, although a couple of tables were taken later on. It was rather lovely to see Sarah and Andy come along at this point, they’re hard core drinkers though, so it wasn’t an entire surprise.

As for the drinks, I went for thirds of a number of different beers, including the Bone Machine from Whiplash, the Double Juice Punch and the Wake Up Call from Brouwerij Frontaal as well as the It’s Me or the Solar Farm from Turning Point. An attractive range of beers, with the Double Juice Punch being particularly notable.

A very decorative toilet.

Richard and I were the last two standing, or, technically, sitting. He’s reliable like that is Richard. That just meant we had to get back to the B&B which was a twenty minute walk.

All very atmospheric and I’d add it’s very difficult to take a photo of the cathedral. Despite its size, it remains hidden behind these narrow streets.

It was all rather quiet, although it was nearly midnight. There was a big party going on at the venue underneath the Hilton by Hampton though, which we realised by walking in front of it, and also from Gordon who was staying there and who couldn’t sleep until 3am despite spending £220 per night. How the other half live….

And the castle, which was constructed by William the Conqueror shortly after his invasion of the country in 1066. It was used by a gas company in the nineteenth century who took the top floor down, which isn’t entirely ideal, although there were plans to entirely demolish it, so the outcome is better than it could have been. I’m pleased to report that we got back to the B&B unharmed and in good shape, with Richard really excited for the walking the following day. I was busy to complain all day that it was too hot.

July 20, 2022
Thursday : London to Luton by Train

Starting the day at the Linton hotel in Luton, I was moderately perplexed why they installed all the power points the wrong way up. Not that I suppose it matters much in the grand scale of things, but I like having things to be perplexed about. It’s a slightly strange set-up throughout the room, they seem to put the beds up against the wall when they’re not in use.

Breakfast was included in the room rate and it was all a bit odd. I got just about the last table, even though I was there at 07:00 when they started serving. There were juices and bread to toast, which took about four minutes in the toaster (not the juices), whilst the rest of the meal was cooked to order. There was no choice, the overwhelmed staff member went from table to table saying “what would you like for breakfast?”. He was polite, but just about everyone replied they hadn’t seen the menu. He replied “there’s a full English breakfast or toast” which a couple of people declined so I assumed they expected something else.

It’s not my favoured choice of breakfast as it’s all a bit stodgy, and it was a little barren on the plate, although the quality was OK, but it was nothing particularly exciting.

The hotel is keenly priced though, I would stay there again if I was in Luton and it was the cheapest option.

It’s about a twenty minute walk from the hotel into the town centre of Luton and it goes under this really rather well designed underpass. Numerous images representing the history and culture of the town, it was impressively free from vandalism. What is more impressive is that it has been there since November 1998.

Luton 2040 and the mission statement for the future is apparently:

“In 2040, our vision is for Luton to be a vibrant, fair, and prosperous town where people can live their lives to the fullest. We will all achieve our potential and reduce inequality. A town where no one lives in poverty.”

Very noble.

Luton town hall and war memorial. This town hall was completed in 1936, built on the site of the previous building, which had been raided and set on fire during rioting in July 1919. What was annoying for the authorities wasn’t just the huge loss of an asset, but the disruption to the provision of services to locals and also it took place on Peace Day.

There was a week-long court trial and a debate about whether it was technically a riot, but it was decided that it was. 28 men were sent to trial, 9 were found not guilty, 2 were bound over, 16 received prison sentences of between two months and eighteen months and 1 man was sent to prison for three years. The longest sentence, and for one of the most violent of the men involved, was Frederick Plater, a 27 year old labourer who was not only found guilty of destroying property, but also assaulting a fireman. He sounds nice… What is perhaps worse about Plater is that his child had been born the month before. He remained living in Luton until his death in 1943, so he saw the new building constructed. He lived at 69 Chase Street, so his route into the town centre was the same one that I took from the hotel.

Anyway, I had a train to catch. It’s not the most glamorous of railway stations. The railway station has been on this site since Midland Railway built it in 1868, although it was rebuilt in the 1930s. There was once another railway station (operated by GNR) located almost opposite, Bute Street which remained in usage until the 1960s when it was pulled down.

At least the waiting room had power points.

The East Midlands Railway (EMR) service from Luton to London St. Pancras, which only cost £5 as I booked in advance, which I thought was rather excellent value for money. The train also had plenty of space, although the interiors of these trains need ripping out, although EMR do note that “by 2024, we will operate our new fleet – which includes our state of the art Aurora InterCity trains”.

It had been a relatively busy service, the train I arrived on is on the right hand side of the photo. Those two trains on the left are the Meridians which will likely be withdrawn next year and replaced by the Aurora Class 810 trains. I’d add that I didn’t know that, I looked it up.

There was quite a wait to get through the barriers, and I’ve wondered before why we can’t be more like the European mainland where they rarely have barriers. They don’t really deter fare evaders, it’s easy to get through the barriers without a ticket.

I had a free Greggs coffee with my O2 app, which meant watching the world go by in St. Pancras for ten minutes.

A quick stop at the Euston Tap.

They had some rather decadent options, but they don’t serve in thirds, so I didn’t get the Fatal Deviation from Whiplash. Without wanting to sound like someone who is too easily annoyed, I must admit to thinking slightly less of them for not serving in thirds, it limits people from trying more beers, so I will probably find another favourite pub in the area. The staff are friendly and engaging though, there’s a nice atmosphere at this pub.

The Dennis Hopp’r from Mondo, a decent enough IPA.

Then off to North London on the delights of the 253 bus.

The bus interior, I noted quietly that the driver went through two red lights which didn’t seem ideal.

The Coronet pub, operated by JD Wetherspoon, in Holloway.

The grand interior of what was the Savoy when it opened in 1940, then later an ABC cinema which remained open until 1983. JD Wetherspoon have done what appears to me to be a excellent job here, very sensitive to the heritage of the building.

The Orange Zeus from Twickenham Fine Ales, not exceptionally reviewed, but I rather liked the orange marmalade type taste. It was well-kept and at the appropriate temperature, with the usual low JD Wetherspoon prices.

And this is where the post ends, I’ll pick up on the story of the following day when it was time for the big Hike Norfolk trip to Canterbury that I had sort of organised. How exciting!

July 18, 2022