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The Blackpool of the West (A Tale of Two Bridges Or Two Bridges and a Tunnel)

The Blackpool of the West It’s so close to the endless edgelands of Avonmouth, That warehouse-dystopian modernity, Where no-one seems to manufacture anything, Just store stuff, move stuff or exchange stuff, And then choose a café for a coffee and a croissant: The British economy. But a century ago, courtesy Of the Great Western Railway, Severn Beach was reinventing itself, As a holiday resort of sorts, A Pleasure-land of the floodplains With their isolated farms and cottages, And then a railway station opened there in 1923 (The circular Avonmouth line had opened Earlier at the turn of the century). Its inter-war hey-day saw excursions, Cyclists, promenaders, hikers, Chalets, sheds, a structure built from bits of an old bus, A boating lake, cafes, tea shops, And the Blue Lagoon Swimming...

Why No Hoboes Over Here?

I’m writing this after rereading Kenneth Alsopp’s classic Hard Travellin’ after a gap of some nearly fifty years. It is, needless, to say, a book of its time but what a poetic piece of extensive research it is. It’s a piece of Americana but the book also opens up the...

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Dudbridge Railway Station

  I often walk the cycle track below Rodborough Hill, The old Midland Railway spur from Dudbridge, And I often cycle the track on to Nailsworth, Musing on the springs and watercourses, the ancient holloways, The Roman villa, medieval ridge and furrow, the woollen...

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Psychogeography and Cyclo-geography

  I’m a great fan of psychogeographical wandering: I love the whole chronotope thing of getting lost in a landscape and drifting through timescapes; I love the whole Hazlittian and Solnitian walking and thinking at 2.5 miles an hour trope. I love walking,...

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Walking: Art-act and Artefact

  We finished the previous chapter thus: Macfarlane argues that Thomas prefigures the Situationists, ‘Pioneering the walk as an art-act, as artefact.’ Well, that sort of sounds like walking as a pop-up museum in a way, doesn’t it? I asked my sister, Fliss, and...

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Railway Navvies and I.K. Brunel

Everyone knows the name: Isambard Kingdom Brunel! And everyone knows that photograph: The top hat, the waistcoat, the cigar, The chain-link in the background for emphasis; The self-assured pride of the Victorian engineer, The man of the moment and momentum, Proud of...

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