It's a wild night of weather for London tonight. I decided to walk home from Wimbledon and got soaked my umbrella rendered useless by the wind. It gave me the kind of cold weather headache I haven't had for years. It took me back to waiting on top of the hill for the school bus to arrive in Newquay or struggling over the bridge to Etruria in Stoke when I was a student.
The bridge to Etruria... sounds lovely doesn't it, kind of romantic. Well the bridge to Etruria has the rail way line one side just past the cemetery, a couple of toilet factories to the other side and don't forget the elevated dual carriage way in front of it. We lived on Garner Street which had most of its Victorian terrace houses demolished even when we lived there. At one end of the street was the toilet factory and the other Etruria Station (since closed.) At the toilet factory end there was a pub and post office run by Bedge and Reryl - really Reg and Beryl but the spoonerism stuck. The place was as bleak as a rock laid bare in the arctic wastes. We used to get frost on the kitchen floor and cups of tea would freeze over night if I left them near my bedroom window. We had unclassifiable mold growing on the walls and unidentified insects in the bath. Even Selina a biology undergraduate could not find the classification for said insects. Students today they don't know they're born!
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