Sentimental journey

Friday, January 26th., St. Simon's Avenue, London.

Today, on a whim, I went to the Potteries. It hasn't changed much. Rather dirty. Large areas of desolation. People generally friendly, though a little impoverished in their appearance.

I got off the train at Longport station and walked up the road to the canal by the Duke of Bridgewater public house. Then along the canal to Middleport, as far as the canal bridge which I used for the opening scene in "Clayhanger". There was even a boat approaching the bridge as I reached it, though under power, not horse-drawn. A lot of the canal-side buildings are crumbling away, though Burgess and Leigh potbank seems to be in good condition. Lot of closed shops in Burslem, but the pubs seem to be well frequented. It was ever thus.

Walked up through the park to High Lane. I rather overdid the 'redness' of the park in my description of the place in "Anna of the Five Towns'. There is indeed a lot of terra cotta, but plenty of greenery as well. In fact the park has matured nicely. Helps of course that today was particularly fine. Sun shone all day and there was warmth in it. Almost spring-like. Along High Lane to Chell and then down Pittshill to Tunstall Park. In some ways I like Tunstall Park better because it is less formal. The lake in particular looked well today. Could easily have been out in the countryside somewhere.

Tunstall was busy and seems to be doing better commercially than Burslem. Why should that be I wonder? That bit further from Hanley? Then down the hill through Goldendale (which fails to live up to any aspect of its name) and back onto the canal at Harecastle. The water was less orange in colour than usual. All the recent rain must be diluting the outpouring from Brindley's tunnel. A remarkable number of water birds at Westport Lake where I paused for a rest - swans, geese, coots, grebe .... I suppose people must be feeding them and they congregate. And so back to Longport and home. 

An enjoyable stroll about. Most places I see bring back a memory of some sort; even some good ones! I read somewhere of the theory that we are tied by an invisible 'thread' to the place of our birth, or at least where we spent our formative years, and there may be something in it. I certainly enjoy a nostalgic visit now and then. Glad to be back home to civilisation though.