An afternoon stroll down the old Wardley Hill in Rutland. I reckon this stretch of road, now by-passed by a streamlined version a field away, hasn't seen holiday Austins desparately trying to overtake grumbling Albions for at least twenty five years. I was surprised that the double white lines were still visible, punctuated by intermittent cat's eyes in their perished white rubber holders. Except the glass lenses had been levered-out long ago with local schoolboy penknives. The undergrowth at the sides had not encroached across the road nearly as much I would have expected, and on one stretch the precipitous drop on the north side is still guarded by a crash barrier entwined with hawthorn. What's so fascinating about all this? I think it's because this was once a thundering highway, one of the very few west-east routes between the heart of the Midlands and East Anglia, and as a child I remember sitting next to the driver of a fully-laden Midland Red coach as he skillfully sorted the gears out for the long climb. The coach was one of a red and black convoy making for Norfolk, and the white-jacketed driver heaved a visible sigh of relief when the summit was reached at Uppingham. I tried explaining all this to a lady taking her dog for a walk, but she smiled wanly and hurried off over the horizon.
I have memories of a School skiing trip to Scotland in about 1967 (wooden skis, leather boots). We were taken from the Youth Hostel to the slope in some ancient bus. I can stil hear it grinding up the 1:4 hill in first gear, every rivett rattling, each tooth of the gear groaning in pain.
Atmospheric or what! Disused roads (and airfield perimeter tracks) have a similar fascination to disused railway lines...not quite the same atmosphere I grant you, but the sense of much use, much to-ing and fro-ing much business and human and mechanical activity now laying idle and inert. Spirits dwell here (or did I imbibe too much at The Green Awards last night?).
I too like these lonely, nearly-reclaimed-by-nature roads - except that in our overcrowded isle, one rarely gets the necessary sense of isolation....there's nearly always a good-life lady with a dog! Route 66 is series of old roads, especially in Missouri where I rode quite alone through Hooker's Cut on a long abandoned dual carriageway!
I am a designer, writer and photographer who spends all his time looking at England, particularly buildings and the countryside. But I have a leaning towards the slightly odd and neglected, the unsung elements that make England such an interesting place to live in. I am the author and photographer of over 25 books, in particular Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2006), More from Unmitigated England (Adelphi 2007), Cross Country (Wiley 2011), The Cigarette Papers (Frances Lincoln 2012), Preposterous Erections (Frances Lincoln 2012) and English Allsorts (Adelphi 2015)
"Open this book with reverence. It is a hymn to England". Clive Aslet
Preposterous Erections
"Enchanting...delightful". The Bookseller "Cheekily named" We Love This Book
The Cigarette Papers
"Unexpectedly pleasing and engrossing...beautifully illustrated". The Bookseller
Cross Country
"Until the happy advent of Peter Ashley's Cross Country it has, ironically, been foreigners who have been best at celebrating Englishness". Christina Hardyment / The Independent
More from Unmitigated England
"Give this book to someone you know- if not everyone you know." Simon Heffer, Country Life. "When it comes to spotting the small but telling details of Englishness, Peter Ashley has no equal." Michael Prodger, Sunday Telegraph
An afternoon stroll down the old Wardley Hill in Rutland. I reckon this stretch of road, now by-passed by a streamlined version a field away, hasn't seen holiday Austins desparately trying to overtake grumbling Albions for at least twenty five years. I was surprised that the double white lines were still visible, punctuated by intermittent cat's eyes in their perished white rubber holders. Except the glass lenses had been levered-out long ago with local schoolboy penknives. The undergrowth at the sides had not encroached across the road nearly as much I would have expected, and on one stretch the precipitous drop on the north side is still guarded by a crash barrier entwined with hawthorn. What's so fascinating about all this? I think it's because this was once a thundering highway, one of the very few west-east routes between the heart of the Midlands and East Anglia, and as a child I remember sitting next to the driver of a fully-laden Midland Red coach as he skillfully sorted the gears out for the long climb. The coach was one of a red and black convoy making for Norfolk, and the white-jacketed driver heaved a visible sigh of relief when the summit was reached at Uppingham. I tried explaining all this to a lady taking her dog for a walk, but she smiled wanly and hurried off over the horizon.
10 comments:
As a child I always wanted a cats eye...any left?
All gone Thud I fear. I did prise about inside them with my scout's knife, but to no avail.
I have memories of a School skiing trip to Scotland in about 1967 (wooden skis, leather boots). We were taken from the Youth Hostel to the slope in some ancient bus. I can stil hear it grinding up the 1:4 hill in first gear, every rivett rattling, each tooth of the gear groaning in pain.
Atmospheric or what! Disused roads (and airfield perimeter tracks) have a similar fascination to disused railway lines...not quite the same atmosphere I grant you, but the sense of much use, much to-ing and fro-ing much business and human and mechanical activity now laying idle and inert. Spirits dwell here (or did I imbibe too much at The Green Awards last night?).
I too like these lonely, nearly-reclaimed-by-nature roads - except that in our overcrowded isle, one rarely gets the necessary sense of isolation....there's nearly always a good-life lady with a dog! Route 66 is series of old roads, especially in Missouri where I rode quite alone through Hooker's Cut on a long abandoned dual carriageway!
Ah, the ghosts of Albion. Great drifts of leaves and splotches of sunlight in the photograph too.
Affa. Only you could ride a trail called Hookers Cut!
Even as I wrote it....
Is it possible to contact administration?
Thanks
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