I’ve been here, before recording the prelude to the epilogue, here at Preston’s Indoor Market.
So on my return this February, I find that the inevitable end, is indeed now past nigh.
Boarded and shuttered awaiting demolition – Waiting for The Light to shine:
Preston City Council has granted planning permission to Muse Developments’ £50m cinema-led leisure scheme in the city centre.
Muse is working in partnership with the council on the plans, made up of an 11-screen cinema operated by The Light, seven family restaurants, a 593-space multi-storey car park and public realm improvements.
The project forms part of the wider regeneration of the Markets Quarter which includes the full refurbishment and redecoration of the grade two-listed market canopies and the construction of a glazed Market Hall.
Preston to their credit have become an exemplar for inward urban regeneration, and the work undertaken so far in the market area is bringing new life and trade to the area.
That said, it is always saddening to see the architecture of the Sixties swept aside.
So come take one last wander through the concrete warren of ramps, underpasses and tunnels of the unwanted indoor market.
I’ve been here before and after.
After now seems further away, forever awaiting redevelopment – waiting.
No more Flower Pot Café and a warm welcome from Lee and the lads.
Nearly nine years on – the shutters are down and nobody is home, save for the Lalley Centre – offering food, support and care to the community.
Though Sister Rita Lee has now move on to pastures new.
The homes and shops remain resolutely shut, un-lived in and unloved, though the City plans to re-site the resident sculpture, the residents remain absent without leaving.
Way back in the Twentieth Century – Cheetwood Industrial Estate was built.
The future was functionalist flat-roofed, concrete, steel and brick boxes.
Adorned with the flowing scripts and signage of the multi-nationals, nationals and local companies, intent upon rendering corporeal the post-war optimism, attendant full-employment and the buoyant business of business.
Fast forward to the future – the roofs have been pitched up, the windows bricked up or shuttered or both, walls encased in sad cladding.
The semi-permanent signage replaced with terminally temporary vinyl.
Joe Sunlight’s neo-classical pediments have been painted a funny colour.
Time’s definitely running out:
But the post office has been stolen and the mailbox is locked.
The age of elegant modernist street furniture, has been and almost gone, the previous centuries are under threat.
But does anyone want this neglected postal self-service technology?
Stamp dispensing is being dispensed with, insert 5p and wait forever.
We have our own disabused facility in Stockport, I pass it almost every day.
And have posted two previous postal posts – here and there.
This new discovery, with thanks to Sean Madner, is situated on the wall of the sorting office in Chesterfield. A faded Festival of Britain charm along with a delightful terrazzo surround, has done little to arrest its slow decline into redundancy and subsequent neglect.
Still in situ, take a walk, take a look – wait for the coin to drop.
All towns have ghosts, none more so than Scarborough.
High atop a castle topped, wind whipped promontory, lies Anne Bronte, overlooking the harbour below, wayward Whitby whalers wail, lost fisher folk seek solace.
Its walls ache with traders past, scissors that no longer snip, click-less shutters, unlettered rock and loaves that no longer rise.
Layers of sun baked, peeling paint on brick, rendered almost illegible.
As Alan Resnais would say Scarborough, mon amour!
Sanremo or San Remo is a city on the Mediterranean coast of western Liguria in north-western Italy. Founded in Roman times, it has a population of 57,000, and is known as a tourist destination on the Italian Riviera. It hosts numerous cultural events, such as the Sanremo Music Festival and the Milan–San Remo cycling classic.
Rochdale is a market town in Greater Manchester, England, positioned at the foothills of the South Pennines on the River Roch, 5.3 miles north-northwest of Oldham, and 9.8 miles north-northeast of the city of Manchester. Rochdale is surrounded by several smaller settlements which together form the Metropolitan Borough of Rochdale, population 211,699. Rochdale is the largest settlement and administrative centre, with a total population of 107,926. Home to the Cooperative Movement, Rochdale AFC and a redundant cotton industry.
The two towns come together at 27 Drake Street, Rochdale, Lancashire OL161RX, home to a fine café and Italian born Tony and family. It has a well preserved menu that reflects industrial Lancastrian tastes rather than flavours of Liguria. It has an internal decorative order that is pure mid century a la mode – Pennine Style. Several more than several signs leave you in no doubt as to the availability of pies, pies with chips/potatoes, peas, gravy, veg – pies of all varieties, pies.
So pie, chips, peas and gravy it was, with a mug of tea – it always is.
Pop in say Buongiorno!
Huddersfield bus station serves the town of Huddersfield, West Yorkshire, England.
Which seems both serendipitous and heartwarmingly convenient.
The bus station was opened on Sunday 1 December 1974 and is owned and managed by Metro. It is now the busiest bus station in West Yorkshire. The bus station is situated in Huddersfield town centre, underneath the Multi-storey car park. It is bordered by the Ring Road – Castlegate A62 and can be accessed from High Street, Upperhead Row and Henry Street.
There are 25 pick-up and three alighting only stands at the bus station.
Forever in the shadow of its Red Rose almost neighbour in Preston.
Some forty five miles and a fifteen and a half hour walk to the west.
Yet still a thing of beauty and a joy forever – given the recent repairs to the membrane covering of its multi-storey car park.
On the day of my visit it was clean, compact, cheerfully bustling and well used, passengers busy going about their business, of busily going about their business of going.
Light classics played soothingly upon the Tannoy, punters popped in and out of Ladbrokes, the kiosk plied its trade, the café was full and an air of calm, clear functionality reigned.
I walked quietly away.