A trip down memory lane for the two of us today. A day out which involved a bus ride from Ealing Hospital to Greenford Underground Station, where we got a tube to South Ruislip, where we got a train to Beaconsfield. Here we walked down a couple of streets until we found the place we were looking for. Our approach was down a path with high hedges to both sides, a grin of recognition crossed both our faces. I was here in 1971 (sure I came more than once) and Mick was likely to have visited around that time also as Kath his youngest sister is a similar age to me. The hedges seemed high back then and luckily I suspect they have grown as have we!

By the time we got there we had to follow the short cut to the toilets so that once relieved we could walk round the site in comfort. This took us past the Engineering building and most importantly the Model Makers Workshop! I wanted to knock on the door and demand that they employed me straight away. But I held back and we started to walk round the bendy paths, between houses, gardens, farms, zoos. You name it and it will be there in some shape or form.

When I was five I loved the houses and the people, perfect for girls who liked dolls houses, although there were only a few that you could look inside. When Mick was ten he loved the trains, perfect for all boys young or old. One building we both remembered was the church with it’s choristers and stained glass. Today we were aware of the shop and company names around the place, something to keep the parents amused.

About halfway round we were getting hungry, so headed for the café which was very reasonably priced and our jacket potatoes were generous. Then we got back to being absorbed in the detail and humour of the village.

The ponds, or should I say lakes have koi carp in them, or should I say orange whales! One was racing a yacht and others were reducing the amount of weed on the foundations to the castle walls.

The old peoples home would certainly be privately owned, no council would stump up enough cash for the up keep of such a huge building. At the fair the motorcyclist on the Wall of Death defied gravity by stopping and not tumbling down to the bottom and I wonder how many years the diver has been suspended in mid air above a ring of fire? The fire brigade were trying to put the flames out on a cottage as plumes of smoke arose from the thatch. The coal mine must be the only pit producing coal in the UK now.

The canal section has a pointless lock, worse than Dutton Stop Lock on the T & M, there is no height difference what-so-ever! C&RT need to do some dredging, the boats all need to come out for blacking and even here duck weed seems to be trying to take hold.

Everywhere there are figures going about their daily chores, jobs, lives, but each and everyone of them looks like they have had a tot too much sherry! They lean as though eddy currents are whirling around the big cottages ready to pick them up into the air to deposit them in front of the Punch and Judy show.

Mick could get a job driving the trains or working in the signal box, occasionally doing a bit of gardening, whilst I could sit and make sober but happy figures to populate the village and sort out the Spanish half built resort. We decided that maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea as I wouldn’t be able to live with the odd scales of things and I’d want the lady cleaning the window to have some success someday.