In my
last post I started talking about the journey from home (Alresford) to my father's parent's (Rayleigh). Despite the title I didn't get as far as the Dartford tunnel, so I'll try again...
Sometimes we drove through central London. As far as I can remember the route was the A30 through Staines, past Heathrow onto the A4 Great West Road and so through Knightsbridge. Here it became really interesting as we passed Harrods and the Victoria and Albert, and Natural History museums to Hyde Park corner and then to Piccadilly Circus. Which of course was the reason for coming this way.
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| Piccadilly Circus in 1962 |
From there we drove through Holborn and past St Paul's cathedral and the Bank of England. These were impressive places that kind of made me feel proud to be English. Then Aldgate and I think Whitechapel Road into the East-end of London.
London, our parents explained, has a West-end and an East-end. All the rich people live in the West-end, and all the poor people in the East-end with their
jellied eels and Cockney rhyme. Travelling out of London through the East-end was kind of scary because of what one imagined poor people might do but, at the same time, I somehow felt more empathy towards the East-end people than those snobs in the West. I somehow felt privileged to be allowed to travel through their domain. This feeling of identification with the working class remains with me to this day. I would not want a white-collar job, I prefer to get my hands dirty, to be involved at the nuts and bolts level. Despite being an Oxford graduate.
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| Aerial view of the Hog's Back |
After the tunnel opened in 1963 we generally took the Dartford route, following the A31 from Alresford through Farnham and onto the
Hog's Back, a narrow, elongated ridge that is in fact the western end of the
North Downs (more on that later). There are beautiful views either side making it a special part of the journey. What with imagining driving along the back of an actual pig.
The Hog's Back ends at Guildford where the river Wey cuts through the North Downs. Exactly how a river can cut through high ground becomes easier to understand when you realise that the area between the North and South Downs was once even higher as evident from a geological cross section.
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| Cross-section from London to the Channel |
We drive through Guildford city centre to get onto the A25 route to Dartford, passing the famous cathedral with its golden angel atop which,
apparently, is 15' tall and turns in the wind. The angel was erected in 1963 a couple of years after the cathedral was consecrated - so all within my time-frame. From a distance the angel is but a golden sparkle in the sun, but I always looked out for it and still do when in the area.
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| Guildford cathedral |
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| The golden angel atop |
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| 1952 map of Guildford east |
The A25 starts at Clandon Park just east of Guildford and was our route around London to Dartford. It is the precursor to the M25 London orbital motorway and follows the southern edge of the North Downs. Clandon House was a hospital during the first World War and there is some connection with my dad's folk this being the reason why their house was named "Clandon". I think
Ginty was there convalescing.
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| Clandon Park during WWI |
Sadly Clandon Park was gutted by fire just a few days ago. Some furniture was hauled out but otherwise the whole of the interior was lost.
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| Clandon House gutted by fire 29 April 2015 |
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| The effect of the fire services seems pathetic |
Leaving Guildford and Clandon behind the A25 climbs over the North Downs and begins its descend down the escarpment face at Newlands Corner and Albury Downs (see map). Here are walks and a beautiful view and we sometime stop here for a breath of fresh air. From then on the A25 hugs the southern base of the North Downs all the way to Sevenoaks.
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| Abinger Hammer in 1959 |
The next place I look out for is
Abinger Hammer. The river Tillingbourne flows through the village where it was impounded in the 16th century into a hammer pond, providing water power for
Abinger Forge which worked Sussex sourced iron. Such details elude me - it is sufficient to get a glimpse of the famous clock and I hope we can pass on the hour and see the bell struck.
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| Westcott village |
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| 1952 map of Dorking area |
Westcott is the next village, pretty as its name, and then after Dorking the view-point of Box Hill on the left (highlighted in red) and Brockham to the right. I do not know that I will return here in my 20's with my first and only girlfriend in tow. Her parents lived at Great Brockamhurst at the time (highlighted in green). One of my first visits there ended up in a picnic together at
Leith Hill south west from Dorking.
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| where we parked at Leith Hill |
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| the view from Leith hill |
I think we picnic'd by the car (a proper affair with tablecloth laid out) then climbed to the tower. Apparently the tower was built in 1765 with the express purpose of raising the elevation to over 1000' which, my father informed me, was the threshold between hill and mountain. We lie side by side in the grass without a care and I am ecstatic soaking up the warmth of her body. But I digress.
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| Laporte fullers earth work, Redhill |
After Dorking comes Reigate and Redhill and my next memory is the
Fullers Earth works - this being one of only three places in Britain where the stuff was mined . The idea of mining, in England, a substance that was mentioned in the Bible fascinated me although actually the
Bible reference is to fuller's soap which probably wasn't the same substance at all. Production ceased in 1996 and the works are now
derelict.
We pass through Bletchingley and Godstone. Funny how all these names were and still are dear to me: they are colourful and have a quaint ring about them, whereas place names close to Rayleigh (Brentwood, Billericay, Benfleet, Rochford, Maldon) seem grey and boring. Apologies to any of my readers that might live there!
Oxted and Westerham come next and then Sevenoaks. There actually were seven oaks, although six of them fell in the
storm of 1987. Here we leave the A25 and head north along the A225 through the gap in the North Downs cut by the river Darent, through Otford, Eynsford and thus to Dartford.
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| 1952 map of Dartford - no tunnel! |
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| and with the tunnel |
The tunnel is about one mile long and I enjoy every moment of it. The sort of things I notice are the green "traffic-light" arrows (what were they for? - one could hardly stop or go backwards), the cat-walks either side, the ventilation fans in the tunnel and shafts visible on approach, and the staged increase in fluorescent lighting to get us used to daylight as we emerge. All that just to let you know what sort of a person I am.
And then via the A13, joining the arterial road at the Chelmsford intersection and thus to Rayleigh. More recently I have driven the M25 route, Dartford crossing and A13 route several times to Rayleigh to visit my now deceased aunt and the same feeling of dread came over me as I got closer. Such are memories.
My sister adds:
ReplyDeleteDo you remember that sometimes we stopped on the grass verge alongside the perimeter fence to Heathrow airport watching planes come in and out, some of them even being, horror of horrors,new-fangled jets! On one glorious occasion i seem to remember a hot-dog van and we were actually allowed to have one.
Gunnersbury avenue was the head-quarters for Unevangelised Fields Mission, which was the society that a family friend went out with.
And then there was Gants hill. When you were little we often stopped there and mum would stay with you in the car (you were usually asleep) [so that's why I don't remember it!] while dad and i went into a milk bar there and had a glorious milkshake. It made me feel so grown up and sophisticated to be out at night, in the dark with dad! Almost made going to Rayleigh worthwhile - but not quite!
The Basildon onion - I remember Ginty saying Basildon was another name for Babylon - strange how such things stick in one's memory. Makes one wonder what on earth he would have made of Bluewater, the skyscrapers in the city of London, not to mention such places as Dubai!
Do you remember visiting the cathedral while it was still being built. I have this memory of standing in what would be the nave, while the roof was still open to the sky, with the ground all muddy following a torrential rain storm?
The A25 is a beautiful road (slightly marred by trying to get through Reigate and Redhill now), but very slow compared to the speed of the M25. It somehow epitomizes for me all that I love about living in southern England - even though most of its man-made glories are astronomically beyond my price range! I occasionally choose to pootle along it if I'm driving on my own. It seems strange that I have ended up living very close to the Dartford end of it. I remember seeing the Roman villa lying down and across a very ordinary field, not long after it was first excavated, and also visiting it once on my way up London with some friends and wearing my first pair of high heeled shoes - wildly unsuitable for such terrain!
Well, those are my memories - fewer probably for the Dartford route, because by then I was growing up and mercifully visited Rayleigh rather less. But that stomach churning feeling in the gut can still be summoned by raking through a few of these old memories!