yen_powell

Amongst the photos you will see a pimped cannon (for Tym), a three barrelled breach loading cannon, strangely square in form (for Tym) and a broken chair which is a result of a German spy being executed by firing squad in 1941. Apparently due to the low height of the bullet catcher, which I hope is a device and not a tradesman, he needed to be sitting down to be shot. In the dock pics you will see some of the Queen's jubilee barge, I couldn't get far enough away to get it all in. Lots of gold leaf, can't believe no one has pinched it.

As I said earlier, rode 50 miles to my friends' house, parked up in their back garden then 9 of us, including 3 children got on the bus, then the train and entered The Tower dead on 10am as per our timed Covid style tickets. We walked in as one of the Yeoman of the Guard ( a Beefeater) was doing his walk and talk tour so we joined on to that for a few locations then split up and wandered round individually. If you want a laugh, the youtube video gives you an idea of how good the Yeoman warders are, I think they choose only natural comedians or more likely, to have got that far in the armed forces before being chosen you develop a sense of humour. Pictures below, it's a big place in a small area. All pictures, apart from the St Katherine's dock ones, are taken inside the fortress. Some pictures show where the staff and their children live, what a strange life that must be.

Last one gone.

Sometimes, he's been knocking his stuff out for about 15 plus years I reckon and it' covers lots of things. Lots of old house interiors and attics, crypts, old places of worship, tombs etc. I will warn you, he is a bit cat obsessed so you get the odd bit of stuff about his dead cat. Oh yes, he has photographs taken from inside the model of St Pauls Cathedral. This was how the King was persuaded to let it be built by getting inside and looking out the windows. https://spitalfieldslife.com/2020/07/10/inside-the-model-of-st-pauls-o/

I think I've mentioned this website before. A new article every day, he does repeat himself occasionally. 90% of them are fascinating, stories of ordinary people with extraordinary lives that no one knows about until they tell you. I've been to visit some of the places he mentions, others I already know about due to working in the area and being nosy. Just some examples to start with A place I am going to soon, hidden behind Kings Cross and St Pancras Station, just to see The Hardy Tree and the inspiration for the red London telephone box. https://spitalfieldslife.com/2018/06/10/at-st-pancras-old-churchyard-x/ Find out who actually makes ballet shoes, you'll be surprised. https://spitalfieldslife.com/2021/07/11/the-point-shoe-makers-of-hackney-x/ The story of where a famous saying comes from https://spitalfieldslife.com/2021/07/31/the-foundling-of-shoreditch-x/ I might put a few more on here at a later date as I find them again. Ones such as the transvestite of Bethnal Green and his/her electric cooker collection, The tramp so stylish he is paid to model neckerchiefs, a small shop that still has stock from the 1700s and supplies spares for the Queen's coronation and other coaches, the Bangladeshi mechanics who inhabit the hundreds of railway arches hidden away from view, the old mechanic who used to work on souping up the Krays AND the Flying Squad's cars at the same time in the 50s, the day to day life of the Raven Keeper at the Tower etc. .

I also have the same problem with walking and cycling. The road I live on is flat, I walk along it no problem. Yet on my push bike it is a vicious incline which I'm either panting to ride up or speeding down hoping my brakes will stop me at the far end.

A cobbler/cobblers is a shoe mender/shoe mender's shop. Cobblers is also one of the million slang word for testicles, no idea why we have so many.

When I was a small child on holiday these sort of post cards cracked me up. Now I'm a mature adult, I snurk on the inside only of course.

Yes, now I'm glad you brought that up. Why is it that no slope looks as bad as it is in real life in a photograph or a video. If I took a picture of the top of Everest it would look like a billiard table.

Is that even fallen over. Sometimes doing that is easier than trying to get the side stand down on very uneven ground (on smaller bikes only of course).

You don't need a jack. Adrenaline and embarrassment usually suffices.

Just found this picture when looking for something else. Me standing next to someone else's bike. Mine is the black AT at the other end. The one I'm standing next to belongs to the person in the Chuck Berry story on page 3. Strange Dave is fettling at the back.

Maybe to stop it getting too top heavy and falling the rest of the way into the dry ditch. I went past it quite quickly, but after about a 100 yards, I decided to turn back. I think it may have also reminded me of the Navigator in the first Dune film. Also Raggety from 1070s puppet Rupert the Bear

Not one of mine, I'd only have a single arrow in the wrong direction, you get better head-ons that way.

I saw a brand new cottage with a thatched roof today, they still make the odd one. Thatch was banned in London after the Great Fire, but special permission was given for one building to be constructed with one. The replica of The Globe Theatre passed fire safety regulations, partly because the original burnt down and everyone got out safely.

I only went out for a little poodle on local roads originally, but whilst out I remembered that I had put a post code into my satnav and saved it a month or so back for one of the places in my Wild Guide book. There were two places I wanted to visit, a hidden quayside with nice views over a river with the best name ever (The Twizzle) and another similar place, but where the quayside stones had originally been part of the medieval London Bridge. I didn't have the book with me and could only find one of the post codes on the satnav, so off to the Twizzle it was, the old bits of London Bridge will be for another day. On the way there I went past a farm entrance with a hedge next to it with a small gateway set into it. Being nosy I stopped and stuck my head through and found a little graveyard, miles from anywhere as far as I could tell, and next door a little church. No idea how they get much of a congregation as no village is close by?? Like most little Essex churches, it is built to look like a wooden rocket ship. I also shot past a tree that to me looked like a giant wooden snail rearing up, so did a u-turn and took some pictures of that. I finally arrived at Quay Lane in a place called Kirby-Le-Soken. The book had said to park in the village and walk up Quay Lane, but I rode up it as far as I could until I met a sign saying any further was private property. The road was very narrow so I plonked the bike into a little concreted entrance to an electrical sub station and after chucking my jacket into the top box I started walking further up the private road (but public footpath). After about 500 yards the narrow lane opened up to reveal a little cottage with its own private bridge. According to the book, it is called Witch's Cottage. A little further along the road ended at a gate into the river. I took a few pictures by the gate then backtracked a few yards and walked along the field footpath which popped out by the river again. A few more snaps and I headed off to Frinton on the coast. It was only 2 miles away, but due to a weird combination of mini roundabout, a railway level crossing and 100 year old drivers it took me 20 minutes to get there. Frinton is the sort of seaside place that doesn't allow pubs, chip shops, fruit machines or ice cream sellers. I plonked my self down on a bench on the cliff top and had a coffee out of my flask. I could see loads of wind turbines out in the channel. They definitely weren't there when I last came here in 1976!

You know, Wednesday, when the things is on the thing. By the blue doodah.

Yes, all pictures in black and white.

So I've pulled my trousers up and I'm still in shock and not paying too much attention to the doctor. I finally realised she is waving a very small transparent pill container at me and speaking. The container is a few inches long, has a label on it and a screw lid. She wanted me to go to the toilet and provide a urine sample. Not easy with such a small container, but I did my best and gave the outside a good wash afterwards. I handed over the still warm container and the last thing she did was sit me down and open a book in front of me. I recognised it at once. It was the book of numbers they test you for colour blindness with. I first did this test at an opticians when I was 8 years old. I can only see the first number, the rest is just a sea of dots. I have even asked people who can see the numbers to trace them with their finger and I still can't see them. Strangely every eye test since they have made me do it again, like I am going to be miraculously cured of being colour blind. So of course, I fail the test as usual. Oh dear she said, you can't join the T.A. if you're colour blind!!!!! Now why didn't she tell me that at the start, we could have skipped the anal foreplay and gone straight for the rejection! Not only that but I could have spent my weekend previously indoors in the warm instead of running up and down an assault course. I left the room and went out to the waiting area. My mate was waiting with a smirk on his face, knowing what I'd gone through. "Don't worry" he said, "As you get promoted they put more fingers up. Become an officer and you get the whole bloody arm!" A few days later I go back to Tilbury and see the sergeant who first signed me up and sent me on the 2 day testing weekend. He's seen all my results. He's especially upset about the colour blindness because I got the highest score in the intelligence test out of the 100 blokes there, not that much of a feat as I said, some could barely write. He asked me if I was still keen to join. I asked how that was possible being colour blind. He looked around to make sure no one was listening and then told me to go to another regiment and apply all over again. Then I could learn the colour blindness test and fake it. I thought about it for a few seconds. "I'd have to have a medical again wouldn't I?" "Oh yes.". "I think I'll leave it if it's all the same to you, cheerio........."

Fuck me, you've got a picture of Prince Andrew squeezed up against an ex miner.

There's more medical yet, tomorrow though.