Hastings 2015

I had completed my journey from Weston super Mare, with a final day’s cycle ride from Eastbourne and had two days to spare.

So I took some time to have a mooch around and this dear readers is what I did see.

I have snapped the seafront shelters previously and put together one post after another.

These are an integral part of Sidney Little’s concrete promenade scheme

Lurched toward London Road Launderette in St Leonards – which was featured in my 2020 book eight laundrettes.

Next door is this Post Office mosaic.

Back to the front for a more traditional seaside shelter.

Exploring the backstreets in search of fitness for purpose and secret signs.

Then diving in for a delicious dosa at the long gone St Len’s Lakshmi Mahal – since moved to Bexhill on Sea.

Snapping the plaques at the White Rock Theatre.

Currently closed but hopefully open in time for the We Love The Spice Girls.

Popped into Arthur Green – former gent’s outfitters, current bric a brac brokers.

Before we know it, we’re in another laundrette, once more without washing in the Wash Inn.

Back along the front to the well appointed and freshly painted Marine Court.

Time to pop into the not always open subsequently closed St Leonard’s Church.

When World War II broke out, Hastings and St Leonards-on-Sea were considered vulnerable to attacks and invasion from abroad. On the night of Saturday 29 July 1944 a doodlebug was hit over the English Channel. Damaged, it nevertheless continued to fly towards the coastline of St Leonards-on-Sea. It was approaching Marine Court which was hosting a servicemen’s party – but it veered and crashed in front of the doors of St Leonard’s Church, making a deep crater. The tower fell into this, and the rest of the church was brought down as well. Although there were no casualties, the church was completely destroyed. Although the problem of rock falls and subsidence associated with the cliffs had continued throughout the life of the church, the War Damage Commission would only pay for it to be rebuilt on the same site. The architectural partnership of brothers Giles and Adrian Gilbert Scott were commissioned to design the new building.

Patrick Reyntiens stained glass

The unique features were inspired by Canon Cuthbert Griffiths, rector from 1929 to 1961. Following a dream, he went to Israel and had the prow of a Galilean fishing boat constructed to form the pulpit.

Marble work on the floor depicts locally caught skate and herring.

Beyond the communion rail are loaves and fishes set in different marble patterns bordered by scallop shells, a copy of the Byzantine mosaic in the Church of the Feeding of the Five Thousand in Galilee.

The structure set into shifting cliffs is subject to subsidence.

Procedures have been completed for St Leonard’s Parish Church on Marina to be closed for worship. 

The service will be next Saturday August 4 2018 at 3pm. 

Because the building cannot be used the service will be at St Ethelburga’s in St Saviour’s Road.

St Leonard’s has been called the church with an inbuilt message.  Even the very stones cry out to those who have eyes to see, ears to hear and a heart to understand and accept the Good News of the Gospel.

St Leonards Church

Dartmouth to Exmouth

Wake up Steve put the mini-kettle on!

Get down for breakfast – I personally regret the untimely passing of fried bread and the appearance of the so-called hash brown.

Originally, the full name of the dish was hashed brown potatoes or hashed browned potatoes, of which the first known mention is by American food author Maria Parloa in her 1887 Kitchen Companion, where she describes the dish of hashed and browned potatoes as a fried mixture of cold boiled potatoes which is folded like an omelet before serving.

Years later we got them.

Thursday 30th July 2015 and the sun is a shining brightly on the Dart.

Get on the ferry!

We’re off again.

The Monkey Puzzle tree Araucaria araucana is one of the oldest trees in the business – of being a tree.

It is native to central and southern Chile, western Argentina, and a welcome visitor to the English Riviera.

The hardiest species in the conifer genus. Because of the prevalence of similar species in ancient prehistory, it is sometimes called a living fossil.

The refined white rectilinear box shaped houses of the genus Seaside Moderne, are an offspring of the International Style, to be found all over the globe.

The sea covers seventy percent and rising, of our planet.

Seaside shelters are ubiquitous along our coast and form a typology determined by a rich variety of wild and wonderful Municipal tastes – flat, broke, baroque, modern and functionalist, hardly two the same.

Electricity is a popular power source both locally, nationally and internationally.

Model villages originated in seventh century China, there is only one way around a model village.

This one is in Babbacombe.

Time for a 99 – quick it’s melting Steve!

This Georgian Court is situated just outside Torquay, a restrained Neo Classical/Deco brick and render apartment block – the couple I chatted to, very kindly offered to show me around the place.

Ghost signs have the habit of disappearing all over the place.

So to shops of all shapes and sizes.

Whilst others prevail.

Including this arcane example in Exmouth – The Wool Shop.

Laundrettes may be on the way out but this gallant knight of the road continues to record them, both online and in print.

Here in Teignmouth a pier appears not uncommon on certain parts of the coast.

Teignmouth Grand Pier is a great day out for family and friends. There’s something for everyone – from big kids to little ones – it offers you all the traditional attractions and entertainment in the Great British spirit of the seaside.

Time to get on the ferry again Steve – crossing the Exe Estuary on the Starcross to Exmouth Ferry.

Bikes carried for a small additional charge.

No time for Bingo, reading the local paper or the amusements – time for a pint, in the form of two halves.

Then a wander back to the digs – see you all tomorrow.

Night night

Clacton to Great Yarmouth

Day four Thursday 4th September 2014 – leaving Clacton on Sea for Frinton on Sea is the equivalent of crossing continents, time zones, aesthetic and social sensibilities.

Leaving the razzle-dazzle, frantic fish and chip frazzle, for the sedate repose of germ free Frinton.

Green sward and restrained modernist shelters adorn the foreshore.

I love the bold optimism of Maritime Moderne – the bright eyed, forward looking window grid of these fine flats.

I have a cautious admiration for the faux Deco newcomers.

The modernist estate was attempted many times in the interwar years; visions of rows of fashionable white walled, flat roofed houses filled developers eyes. In practice the idea was less popular with potential house buyers. In the Metro-Land suburbs of London, estates were attempted in Ruislip and Stanmore, with a dozen houses at most being built. One estate that produced more modernist houses than most, albeit less than planned, was the Frinton Park estate at Frinton-on-Sea on the Essex coast.

Oliver Hill was known for his house designs, which spanned styles from Arts and Crafts to Modernist. Hill was to draw up a plan for 1100 homes, as well as a shopping centre, luxury hotel and offices. The plan was for prospective buyers to buy a plot and then engage architects to design their new house from a list of designers drawn up by Hill. The list featured some of the best modernist architects working in Britain at the time; Maxwell FryWells Coates, F.R.S. Yorke and Connell, Ward & Lucas.

As wonderful as this sounds today, the buying public of 1935 did not quite agree. The majority of potential buyers were apparently put off by the Estates insistence on flat roofs and modernist designs. Plan B was to build a number of show homes to seduce the public into buying the modernist dream. Of 50 planned show homes, around 25 were built, with about 15 more houses built to order. The majority of these were designed by J.T. Shelton, the estates resident architect, with a number designed by other architects like Hill, Frederick Etchells, RA Duncan and Marshall Sisson.

Modernism in Metroland

One million four hundred thousand pounds later

Nine hundred and fifty thousand pounds

These survivors are now much sought after residences.

The Modern House

The town is also home to this traditional confectioners – Lilley’s Bakery.

Leaving the coast for pastures new – well, a ploughed field actually.

Crossing the River Orwell over the Orwell Bridge on my way to Ipswich.

The main span is 190 metres which, at the time of its construction, was the longest pre-stressed concrete span in use in the UK. The two spans adjacent to the main span are 106m, known as anchor spans. Most of the other spans are 59m. The total length is 1,287 metres from Wherstead to the site of the former Ipswich Airport. The width is 24 metres with an air draft of 43 metres; the bridge had to be at least 41 metres high. The approach roads were designed by CH Dobbie & Partners of Cardiff. 

The bridge is constructed of a pair of continuous concrete box girders with expansion joints that allow for expansion and contraction. The girders are hollow, allowing for easier inspection, as well as providing access for services, including telecom, power, and a 711mm water main from the nearby Alton Water reservoir.

The bridge appears in the 1987 Cold War drama The Fourth Protocol, in which two RAF helicopters are shown flying under it, and at the end of the 2013 film The Numbers Station.

Wikipedia

Time for a Stymie Bold Italic stop – much to the obvious consternation of an over cautious customer.

It seems to still be extant – but with a tasteful coat of subdued grey paint according to its Facebook page.

Having completed this journey in 2016, then reacquainting myself in 2020, I have little recollection of visiting Ipswich, but I did, yet there are no snaps.

I photographed this and several other water towers, precisely where, I could not honestly say.

Suffice to say that it is somewhere – as is everything else.

An admiring nod to Bernd and Hilla Becher.

This the only time that I chose to have a glass of beer whilst awheel, normally waiting until the evening – I couldn’t resist this charming looking brew pub in Framlingham.

Earl Soham is a village close by, on the A1120. The Earl Soham Brewery beers started out in  life being brewed in local man Maurice’s old chicken shed. You may be pleased to hear they have a slightly more sophisticated set-up now, without forgetting their humble roots.

If you haven’t tasted them before, we think you’ll be as delighted with them as our regulars, and you can be guaranteed of a warm welcome if you come to try them out.

The Station

The sort of wayside boozer where I could have easily idled away an hour or two – hopefully I’ll pass by again some time and linger longer.

Another water tower – somewhere.

The most enchanting of shop fascias.

Something of a curiosity – David Frost’s father’s ironmongers in Halesworth – and the Ancient House with its ancient carving.

The bressumer beam at the front of the is linked with Margaret de Argentein in the late 14th and 15th century, it is believed t it could have been a manor or toll house. 

Currently trading as a Bistro with paranormal problems;

Things in the window were swaying the other day and when we went to stop them they almost fought back.

I’ve seen two ghosts in the kitchen. One was clearly a man, the other was when I thought my daughter was over my shoulder but when I looked around she wasn’t there, and we were the only two in the building.

Eastern Daily Press

The long and ever so slightly winding road of the lowlands, sad eyed.

Service station highlight of the tour – with its National graphic identity intact.

A no longer a bakers bakery.

Ghost sign.

All at sea again – caravans to the left of us, sea to the right of us, onwards onwards.

The eternal puzzle of the paddling pool.

Terracotta tiling on the Lifeboat House.

Crossing the estuary of the River Yare – yeah, yeah!

Finally arriving in Joyland.

Rides include the world famous Snails and Tyrolean Tub Twist.

A huge toy town mountain incorporates the Spook Express kiddie coaster, Jet Cars and Neptune’s Kingdom undersea fantasy ride, Pirate Ship, Major Orbit, Balloon Wheel and Skydiver complete the rest of the rides.

Hungry – why not grab a bite at the American Diner.

I actually went to the Wetherspoons.

Though the town is full of tiny pubs.

And a chippy.

I wandered the highway byways and promenade of Great Yarmouth, all alone in a neon nightmare!

Finally settling down for a pint or two – again.

Lastly encountering the late night skaters.

Night night.

eight laundrettes

It began on an aimless walk out of Wigan on through Frimley, I found heaven on earth in the warm enfolding arms of the Washeteria. A perfectly preserved fascia, interior and machines, more by diffident neglect than good management. Signature wood effect and patterned Formica panelling, over earnest signs demanding the highest standards of personal conduct, etched in thick discoloured coloured plastic, abound on every surface. Stuttering strip lighting and a stone cold linoleum floor. A dull white ceiling, with a surface texture formed from deep frozen ennui.

Three years later I had visited and snapped several examples, all with their own uniques characteristics though all contributing to a typology. 

In the United Kingdom known as launderettes or laundrettes, and in the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand as laundromatsor washeterias.

George Edward Penury created the word laundromat for Westinghouse. 

According to NALI – the National Association of the Launderette industry, numbers peaked at12,500 in the early 80s but have since dwindled to just 3,000. 

The first UK launderette – alternative spelling: laundrette. was opened on May 9th 1949 in Queensway London.

Come with me now and relive those warm damp languorous moments as we visit eight laundrettes.

All the books sold out in three hours – so here’s your chance to flick through the virtual pages as the prewash finishes.

Suds Laundrette – Levenshulme

We have entered a new age – the age of the A6 based computer generated A4 Blu-Tack attached laminated print out.

An informal typography for the age of informality – long gone the etched plastic, hand rendered fascia days of yore.

This is now one of many launderama dramas – my sole intent to record the state of the nation’s dirty washing.

There is even to be a book published this March.

So one more for the road – load up the Loadstar with washers and slugs, let’s all get dry, one way or another.

Launderette – Hull

Whilst walking down Beverley Road I caught sight of of you out of the corner of my eye – my left eye.

My beautiful laundrette:

In this damn country, which we hate and love, you can get anything you want, it’s all spread out and available.

That’s why I believe in England.

Set back slightly from the road and the rest of the world.

Queens Road a street with an incident packed street view.

Without hesitation I entered the world of washing, soap and suds, signs and surfaces.

Dirty linen has never been so public.

The Wash Tub Levenshulme – Manchester

When is a washtub not a washtub – self evidently when it doesn’t wash.

This is the land of the decommissioned washer – cash box removed, unrepurposed, demure and decorative yet sadly redundant.

This is a dry only facility its surfaces inert, frozen in time, its sign declaiming pointless imperatives to nobody in particular.

Worn lino, prosaic mosaic, strip lighting, wood-grained Formica, black wooden benches backed up against the warmth of the warm drier – time becomes elastic, limitless.

Enter at your own peril, Persil in hand prepare to be disappointed.

Launderette – Levenshulme

14 Matthews Lane Manchester M19 3DS

It’s been quite a while – following a spate there has been an abatement.

Time was I couldn’t pass a coin-op operation without snapping.

It all began in a Wigan Washeteria one thing lead to another then another.

I was all washed up, rinsed and spun out – I had to call it a day.

Yesterday things changed – I turned a corner in life when I turned the corner into Matthews Road, the familiar aroma, signs and things signified came flooding right back – time stood still beneath a strip light lit suspended ceiling.

Laundrette – Emlyn West Wales

You could be in the middle of nowhere.

You are in the middle of nowhere.

Though never six feet from a rat, or a mile from a main road.

Moments away from a laundrette.

Imagine my amazement, on arrival in a town straddling the border of the counties of Ceredigion and Carmarthenshire in west Wales and lying on the River Teffi.

A launderette.

The heady of mix of interior austerity.

Functionally muted green, grey sky blue, nothing added.

An all too distinctive aroma of who knows what – warm water, soap and humanity?

Wash your dirty linen in public.

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Laundrette – Rhayader

There is a sign.

An Illuminated sign.

There are signs.

Handwritten signs – notices, instructions, scribbled hurriedly, underlined, highlighted, boxed for emphasis.

Taped up.

There are machines, top loaders, best left half empty.

Terrazzo floor, leatherette banquette.

Out of disorder comes out of order.

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Close the door when you leave

Ashton under Lyne – Laundrette

Cycling along Curzon Road one sunny Sunday afternoon, I found to my surprise, facing me across the Whiteacre Road junction.

– An empty yet extant launderette.

One lone drier tumbling, lonely – an absence of presence, save myself.

The usual spartan interior almost unkempt, enlivened by four legged, almost alien, ovalish plastic laundry baskets. A sunlit shimmer of brushed steel surfaces, low lit and deeply shadowed linoleum tiles.

Under the illuminating hum of bare fluorescent tubes.

I snapped and exited, unwashed.

Great!

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