In Downham Market

The Clock Tower

The splendid Victorian clock tower was presented to the town by local draper James Scott in 1878. It has become something of a symbol of the market town and, unusually, it originally had its dial lit from within by gas.


A Candid Camera At The Market

And Some Interesting Buildings

The local fish 'n' chip shop is one of many buildings built of the local carrstone which give the town the nickname of "Gingerbread Town".

This rather run-down TV shop grabbed my attention with its overcrowded facade, however it also has a few interesting architectural features which result from its former use as a pub.

A row of colourful cottages such as one finds in many East Anglian market towns, I presume the one with the big window used to be a shop.

The rather eye-catching architecture of the Castle Hotel which dates from the eighteenth century. It stands on the corner of Paradise Road which is said to have been the site of the gallows in former times - it was reckoned to be the nearest to Paradise that they would ever get!


The Railway Station

The signal box which stands next to the station is one of 26 nationwide which are listed for preservation; automated systems are making most of them redundant.

The station also retains its marvellous waiting-room where you can wait in comfort should the train from King's Lynn be delayed. Not only that but....

.....there's a quaint old bar where you can get a pint. Like the waiting-room it has an atmosphere of the nineteen-forties. Unfortunately my train was on time! 

Take care.

Let Me Explain

My last post about images found in railway stations raised a few questions - and probably a few eyebrows too! The trouble is that once I start taking photos I find it difficult to stop, even in such seemingly un-photogenic places as stations. When I get home I wonder what to do with these photos......

 I've been looking at this worn paintwork for some time but I'm always in a hurry to go somewhere else - because it's the door of the Gentlemen's toilet on Cambridge station! With the re-vamping of the station it's due to disappear any day so I thought it preserve its distressed beauty in a picture. The white border was added to make it look more like a work of art, other than that all I did was brighten up the colours a little on the computer.


The next one is another fascinating pattern of rather mundane provenance. You've probably seen something very like it. All it is is vertical blinds seen through dimpled glass in the windows of the station-master's office at Cambridge station. All I did apart from cropping the image was boost the contrast to give nice clean blacks and whites.

 A bit more trickery involved in this one. It's taken through a scratched and defaced plastic-glass window of a shelter. The whole picture was very grey so I started fiddling about to enrich the colour. Once I got started I had to see how far I could push it. Colours began to emerge through the gloom until the final colourful result was obtained. I quite like it and I hope Tasha does too - whoever she is.

This was done a long time ago and all I can recall is that it was originally a snap of some shiny metal plates next to Waterbeach station.
It looks to me as if it's probably a composite image of two identical shots, one of which is upside down.
Why I did that I can't imagine!

You're probably getting the hang of this by now so I hardly need tell you that it's dimpled glass again. All this one needed was a little extra contrast and it came out resembling a woodcut.

This is just a straight shot with no tinkering needed. It's just some blistered paintwork seen at Bayford station.

Another picture that was predominantly grey. But in the depths of greyness there always lurks a hint of colour. Here as the colour was boosted it became clear that the different sheets of plastic-glass through which the image is seen have slightly different qualities which became more pronounced as the colour was pushed to near the limit.



The photo enhancement programme I use - Corel Paintshop Pro Photo X2 - doesn't have many instant, one-click effects that I like, but by combining them and tinkering around you can sometimes turn a rather plain picture into something a little more interesting. 
The more I think about it the more convinced I become that this photo doesn't belong with the others in this series. Too late now!





And finally...in the interest of gender equality...I give you - the Ladies' toilet door at Cambridge station!








Take care.

Awaiting A Connection

(or how to pass the time on an English railway station)

Take care.

Breakfast With Celia

Time to baffle Meldreth's station master, David, again this morning by buying a ticket for another destination that he doesn't get asked for every day; Wymondham this time. Though as David probably knows there's much to see in that little Norfolk town.

The train departs Wymondham station

  
Now the first thing to get straight is that it's not pronounced Why-mund-ham at all but Wind 'em, with "wind" as in the blowy stuff and " 'em" as "them" is rendered in some parts. So it's "Wind'em", got it? 

A neat little station - with a faulty clock!

Many of Britain's rural stations are falling into disrepair as they become un-manned stations where you buy your ticket from a machine. Then the buildings become disused and boarded up. It's a great shame because many are of some architectural merit. But Wymonham station has fared rather better than some and often wins awards for the best-kept small station. It has also been used in the TV comedy "Dad's Army" as Walmington-On-Sea station.

Buckets of flowers

The main station buildings are now in use as the "Station Bistro" and I could do with a cup of tea after my journey so...

G E R - Great Eastern Railway

L N E R - London and North Eastern Railway

Inside it's like stepping back into the 1940s, the walls covered with old photos and the seats are all from old railway coaches. A nice open fire too, very cosy.

Railway seats - and even a luggage rack up above

The Bistro takes as its theme the 1945 film Brief Encounter and one of the stars, Celia Johnson, looks down on you while you wait for the waitress to take your order.

The lady and the train

Everyone else in the establishment seemed to be eating breakfast....

Breakfast for two

Although I have no intention to turn "By Stargoose And Hanglands" into a restaurant guide the smell of freshly cooked bacon was too much to resist, especially as the pot of tea came free with the meal. I'd walk it off, I told myself.

Breakfast for one

Now we really must be off to see what Wymondham has to offer. There's a bit of a clue on the door on the way out.

First Class!

Take care.

Unconditional

The train was crowded and I struggled to carry my big rucksack along carriage as I looked for a seat while the train pulled out from the station. I finally found an empty space directly behind some grey hair tied severely in a bun. I hoisted my luggage up into the overhead rack and settled down to read the paper I'd bought in Keswick; I'd been tromping about the mountains for a week so hadn't seen the news for a few days.

Grey-hair-in-a-bun was apparently not alone and she began to address the space next to her, "What's that you're doing? Why have you coloured the sky pink? Have you ever seen pink sky? What's the name of that friend of yours? Why don't you eat your sandwich? Don't you like cheese and pickle?...."

There was evidently a child sitting next to her as from time to time a small voice tried to fend off the barrage of questions with "I don't know, Gran," or "I can't remember". But the contest was unfairly one-sided and Gran continued to rain heavy blows down on the child in the form of relentless questions.

I had to do something if i was ever going to get any peace. "Excuse me," I said, "have you got the time?" 
"What you want to know that for?"
"I need to make a connection"
"Where you going?" "What's your name?" "Where you been?" "Where do you work?" "Are you married?" "Where...why...what....who?"
I parried the questions as best I could while trying to formulate a plan in my mind which centred around asking her how old she was and whether she'd always been such a nosey old.....when something rather marvellous happened.

From under the seat a small blond head was appearing...and two little hands clutching a colouring book and some pencils in a plastic case decorated with pink and yellow butterflies. The head turned up towards me and grinned a gap-toothed smile.

"Where you gone now, you little minx? Where are you? Why can't you sit quiet on the train like everyone else?"
"It's OK, she's here"
"What? Gone under the seat? What you do that for?"
"It's OK, she's fine", I said as I moved over to let the child sit by the window seat.
"Hmmph! Well, if you don't care, I'm sure I don't. You won't get no sense out of her though, I can tell you. They can't do nothing for her, she's got a condition."

Little hands opened the book. A pink pencil wrote slowly and carefully  A - m - a - n -.
A man?
A - m - a - n - d - a - J - a -
A small tongue curled out of the side of her mouth with concentration as she shaped each letter. Grandmother had gone back to her puzzle book leaving me to make of it what I could. The fields, green and yellow, sped past the train window.
Amanda-Jane Writtingstall  the name was finally complete. "Hi, Amanda-Jane, I'm John." I felt as though the reputation of the whole grown-up human race lay on my shoulders.
"Yes" said my new friend.
"You've done some nice colouring."
"Yes.......Oh dear! The pink's broken!"
"I can sharpen it if you like."
"It'll need a sharp knife"
Luckily the people who designed my camping knife had incorporated just such a blade, a special-for-sharpening-little-girls'-pink-pencils blade.

She sat and coloured. Red sky. Blue hair. Green rabbits. Brown balloons and purple dogs. The little tongue firmly in the corner of her mouth. I gazed out of the window at the passing fields and woodlands, the houses and factories flashed by inevitably and without questions. We passed through tunnels and crossed bridges as the evening sky turned slowly pink. 

Take care.

The Age Of Steam At Bressingham

The narrow gauge railway around the garden brings you back to the engine sheds....

....to see his big brothers...

Has any little boy not wanted to stand on the footplate?

The inquisitive might enjoy a peek into the Royal Carriage...

....or perhaps into the Royal Mail coach which collected the mail overnight, and where it was sorted...

Outside there's a signal box...

....just like the one where my uncle was signalman when I was a lad. One day he let me help him pull the levers....

How about a ride on the carousel...

....beautiful painted horses....

....age not a barrier....

Take care (don't fall off the horse!)