Showing posts with label Shepherd Neame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shepherd Neame. Show all posts

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

Ardent of Faversham


A brief return to Faversham, one of my favourite places. In his 1969 Shell Guide to Kent Pennethorne Hughes says 'A delightful market town and small port, obviously conscious of its historical and architectural heritage, but busy and contemporary. It has no showpiece for gogglers, but any number of pleasant buildings.....[and] has various industries: grain and flour, oysters, bricks, canning and packing works for the fruit and vegetables from the country roundabout, and a pleasant and occasional smell of brewing'. It still feels as though bricks and flour should be stacked up on the quayside, and there is certainly much activity down there, but the town still has at its heart the brewer, Shepherd Neame, the oldest brewer in Britain. (Check out their Unmitigated English new bottle labels.) The town is also the setting of Arden of Faversham, a brilliant play once ascribed to both Shakespeare and Marlowe. Murder and mayhem amongst the grain sacks.

Oddly, the Shell Guide has only one Faversham photograph, by Edwin Smith, of the 1574 Guildhall perched on its timber supports. So I'm hoping the picture above of Standard Quay gives something more of both the flavour of the town and the Shell Guides sense of place, following far behind in the footsteps of Smith, John Piper et al. The big white house is, I believe, an old Customs House.

A correction to the above has arrived at Ashley Towers from a stalwart of the Fleur de Lis Heritage Centre in Faversham, who tells me that the 'Customs House' I had assumed it was is, in fact, '...the home of John Matthew Goldfinch, our foremost builder of sailing barges, who had his yard next door. His most famous barge was the eponymous Goldfinch, launched c1894. She was sold out of British service c 1930 and sold to a sugar company in what is now Guyana. The key point is that she crossed the Atlantic under sail, with no auxiliary.Yet she was designed only for UK coastal waters and short trips across the Straits of Dover and southern North Sea to ports from NE France to the Baltic.' 

Wednesday, 1 August 2007

Underfoot 1


It's funny how even the most mundane of things can suddenly become embued with interest. I don't normally wander along streets with my face down in the gutter, unless it's a Friday night and I've been held to ransom in Shoreditch, but this image suddenly came to my attention as I left a Shepherd Neame pub in Colombo Street, a little to the south of Blackfriars Bridge in London. If it hadn't been dramatically lit by the late September light it would almost certainly have gone unnoticed. I didn't arrange the neat pile of leaves, they were grouped like this the last time a breeze ran down the quiet street, and I didn't have to move dog-ends or chewing gum either, remarkably. But as I knelt there fiddling about with my focal lengths a woman from some flats nearby did ask if I was alright. I almost certainly pretentiously saw it seventeen feet high in Tate Modern, an homage to the Boyle Family, perhaps called Edge of Darkness or something. But no, I just liked the look of it.