Another Traipse around Nottingham

For the want of something to do, other than housework, I decided to take a trip out somewhere.

The sun was shining-which made a pleasant change from all the rain that had fallen over the previous few days and I just felt like a trip out somewhere.

I decided that looking around Nottingham would be a pleasant way to waste a few hours-so that was it.

Ho for Nottingham!

The journey, by train, to Nottingham  was uneventful, other than it was just a bit faster than what I remember of previous excursions. 

The power-that-be had finally got around to implementing some of the much-needed improvements to the railway infrastructure in the Nottingham area.

All of these " improvements " are being made in connection with the implementation of a " Grand Plan " to enhance the area's Public Transport system.

In " Marketing-Speak ", the whole shooting-match has been given the title of " The Nottingham Hub Project "-which is nice-I suppose.

The consequence of all the time spent on these upgrades has, so far, resulted in the creation of an extra platform at Nottingham railway station.
This was achieved, not by expanding the area of the rail infrastructure but by " dead-ending " on of the through platforms.
 This effectively resulted in turning one of the " through lines " that are used mainly by freight trains and also for " light engine/empty stock " movements into an extra platform road.

All very ingenious.

Also noticeable is the presence of a metal viaduct that spans the whole station area. 
This viaduct will carry the trams from Nottingham City centre out towards the area of Trent Bridge...and beyond, over the river.

Mind you, it is really just a case of " history repeating itself ".

So perhaps some background information may be useful.

This came about because, in the wild and heady days of the Nineteenth Century a group of businessmen from the Liverpool, Manchester and Sheffield areas devised a scheme to build a railway line to London and beyond.

With the building of this line, it was believed, that they would be able to break the stranglehold imposed on their businesses by the railways that were already operating.

And so the line was built.

Also, the businessmen involved also changed the name of their own railway company from the parochial-sounding " Manchester, Sheffield and Lincolnshire Railway " to the much grander
 " Great Central Railway ".

When the line got as far south as Nottingham; which was just a County town at the time, they had to build a tunnel under the hill that most of Nottingham sits upon. 

It was here that they planned and built a large station that comprised of some 14 platforms

 It was originally to be called Nottingham Central, but in deference to the fact that Her Majesty Queen Victoria, was celebrating some sort of Jubilee at the time ( Diamond, I think ), they gave the station the much grander title of Nottingham Victoria.

I think that the reason they initially chose the title of " Central " had little to do with the planned name of the nascent company but rather that the station was located in the centre of the town.

They built it in conjunction with another railway company, the Great Northern Railway. 
 This company, like the businessmen concerned with the Manchester, Sheffield and Lincolnshire Railway sought to break the virtual monopoly that the other bigger companies had on the business of transport goods and passengers. 

The other railway station that served the town was located in the area just outside of the settlement, in an area to the south called Broadmarsh.

This station was, at the time of the building of Victoria, operated by the Midland Railway and was located;  unsurprisingly, on Station Road.  

Now, the route south from the site of Victoria station entailed the building of another tunnel. 

This came out on the escarpment on which Nottingham had been built at a place called Weekday Cross.

From here it continued, on a viaduct, across the area known as Broadmarsh and on across the whole floodplain of the River Trent.

As it journeyed south it passed close by the Western end of the Midland Railway station.
 ( about one hundred yards  in distance )

For some reason The Midland Railway reacted to the arrival of a competitor's line by relocating the buildings of THEIR station from off of Station Street to a position just west of the new viaduct on Carrington Street. 

This involved them building a bridge OVER their own track on which they had built for them,  a grandiose portico that was designed by the same architect that had designed the station buildings of Nottingham Victoria.

Such seemingly petty-minded posturing that the Midland Railway performed didn't really concern the owners of the new railway.

This was because their plans involved not just getting to London-but going on to build a tunnel under the English Channel and from there to Paris and the Continent of Europe!

Back to my wandering around Nottingham.

After looking around-and purchasing some CD's and a DVD, I headed back to the railway station and got on the train to come home. 
It was about half-full and this made for a pleasant journey home-even after it picked up a fair few passengers at Mansfield and Shirebrook.

Getting off of the train at Creswell I noticed a commotion by the platform exit. 

What was happening was that some painfully thin lad of about fifteen years of age who was stood by the P.I.S. monitor stand was taking down the numbers of the individual units that made up the train.
He was train-spotting...a harmless exercise that harms no-one and passes the time in a more-or-less constructive way.
I used to do it when I was just entering my teen years.

Anyway, back to this lad on the platform.
 One of the gaggle of women who had just got off the train stopped, looked at the lad and announced to the world at large that she had seen a train-spotter.
It was not just a run-of-the-mill type of train-spotter that she had seen but this one was special-this was a special one, " a fuckin' twat- a fucking geek wot ort to get a fuckin' life-or else go kill themselves for being a waste of space and a benefit scrounger!"

This woman was fat, had a face that had so much make-up on it that looked as though it had been applied with a brickie's  trowel. And she was dressed in Primark's finest. 

She was a gobby slut.

You may well imagine as to how this must have left the poor lad feeling.

I didn't approach him, choosing rather to watch him from a distance just to make sure that he didn't do anything rash. 
I watched him pack his bag and with great dignity and a quivering lower lip he made his stately progress down Gypsy Lane and onto Elmton Road.
I lost sight of him as he passed under the railway bridge.
This incident, which is a sad indictment of how we all live our lives has affected me in a manner that I find disturbing

Yet another walk

The weather, being fairly decent for a change, helped me to decide that it was time that I went out for another walk.

This time, just for a change, instead of walking around and over the hills of Derbyshire, I would go and have a look at the River Trent at Gunthorpe in Nottinghamshire.

 It would be a more pleasing to do this, mainly because the Trent Valley is a lot flatter than are the hills that I had flogged up, down and around whilst exploring Derbyshire's bumpy bits.

I took my camera along, intending to capture lots of  views of this picturesque area.

So off I went to the railway station and travelled to Nottingham, here I changed trains and arrived at Lowdham after a second train journey of about ten to fifteen minutes.
 As the train left on its journey to Lincoln I looked around and was cheered by what I saw.

 Apart from one or two modifications made to the railway halt, not a lot had changed.
This, I liked.
It was with a happier heart that I set off on my walk.

Deciding to travel first to Caythorpe, which is about a mile distant... maybe less, from Lowdham, I became aware of the level of background noise-there was very little of it emanating from human sources-no motor vehicles.
The local bird population made the most raucous contribution.

As you walk from into this village, you pass an old red telephone box that has found a new role.

 It is no longer used for the task it was originally designed for. It now had found a new role as a book repository.

 The inhabitants of Caythorpe can, if they want, leave any books that they have read in there and perhaps find something new to read.

There were quite a few books there.

To me this is a novel idea!

After walking through the village I came across a bridle path that led to the river.

Striking out along the edge of the field I became aware of the enjoyable solitude that is to be found there and for a while I just stood, absorbing the sights, sounds and smells of the location.

 The cloud formation caught my attention and I decided to get a snapshot of it.

I realize that this looks quite ordinary, banal even, but for me, that is what makes it special.

I like the banal, the overlooked and the generally ignored because they are so interesting.

I don't know what it is but as soon as you start fiddling about with your camera, attaching it to your monopod, setting your shot up, people appear, as if by magic.

Since I was in a rural location these people seemed to fit a kind of stereotype in that they were generally of sturdy build with an attitude to life that may be summarized as belonging to the " Hail fellow well met! "...and the males were pretty much of the same ilk.

These people were kind that you might expect to see lurking around with  their dogs in the background of television dramas such as " Midsomer Murders " as the grisly scene where the discovery of the corpse is made.

 Walking on a little way on I came to a gate and beyond that lay the river bank.

It was here that I found what I was seeking, solitude and I revelled in it.

Cheered, I decided to take some photographs.

Once more, as soon as I started fiddling about with my camera, people started appearing.

After a while it seemed that all these folk had gone on their merry way and I started to take some shots.

As I sat there choosing what next to photograph I became almost entranced by the sounds of the water rippling as the breeze wended its way across the surface.

I then heard the sound made by the water as it lapped against the rivers bank.

 The gentle  breeze  moaned as it passed around the leaves of nearby trees and both birds and insects added an appropriate acoustic accompaniment to my new-found idyll.

I sat there almost immobile, almost drunk with glory in my situation.

I revelled in my solitude.

A new noise broke in-a chugging noise
I looked up and down the length of the river and there was yet another pleasure cruiser making its way upstream.

I thought about grabbing a shot of it as it passed by-but I couldn't be bothered.

Looking up along the river I spied yet another boat coming downstream.
It was another pleasure cruiser, although this one had been a barge in a past life.

I waited until they were passing each other before taking my shot.

Peace returned once more and I became absorbed in watching some Damsel Flies as they flitted to and fro.

I looked up and spied yet another barge coming down the river and about 100 yards behind it, another one.

Where were they all coming from?

I then remembered that I was about a mile downstream from Gunthorpe Lock and also about a mile upstream from Bleasby Lock and that was why there was all this river traffic that seemed to be travelling in pulses.

I gave up on any idea of photographing more scenes and followed the path to Gunthorpe Lock.

The place was crowded, all seemed to be making use of the cafe which had been turned into a bistro (with concomitant hikes in the price of the food on sale ), so I gave that place the once-over and left.

 Passing another 'exclusive' 'Eaterie' my heart began to sink- they had even closed the small boatyard-is nothing sacred?

Closer examination revealed that all that had really happened was that they had repainted the building and put a proper café ( a 'caff'  ) in part of it.

A closer examination was needed.

Before long I was tucking in to a Sausage Sandwich and drinking a mug of Tea that didn't cost me the Earth nor did the items suffer from an overly florid description of their state of being.
It was as Sausage sandwich and a mug of tea.
I cheered up.

Thus revived I decided that it was time to head back to Lowdham to catch the train to home.

Walking alongside a main road is not a pleasant experience so, ignoring the noise of the road traffic, I made fairly short work of the mile or so distance and was lucky enough not to have wait to long for my homeward train.
It was a pleasant amble through an attractive piece of country.