Tags
Architecture, Down memory lane, Musings, Photography, Railways, Rolling blogs, Southport, Travel
10:00.
It’s the weekend so I’m heading back to West Yorkshire for the bank holiday weekend and to celebrate a special event on Monday.
But first, I’ve nipped into town to pick ip some shopping. The sun’s shining and the town centre’s slowly coming to life with early shoppers and the first pensioners (batteries fully charged) starting to race their chariots up and down Lord St. Talking of Lord St, I couldn’t resist having a look at the wonderful Art Deco Garrick Theatre building. It’s been empty since Covid struck time but an exciting restoration is due to start anytime now with the building being converted into a spa hotel and theatre with the original architecture restored, although some traditionalist bodies remain unconvinced. Personally, I’d rather see it repurposed than see it left in the state it’s in now. The Garrick featured in a famous railway poster from the 1930s painted by Italian artist Fortunino Matania which celebrated a very different age!


Right, time to start travelling…
11:15.
Having picked up some bits I’m on my way East. En-route I found this street artist who’s picked up the Sandgrounder* vibe by making sculptures from sand.

Right now I’m heading for Wigan aboard a vintage BR built Class 156, my favourite multiple unit of the era. Big windows and table bays make it an ideal regional train.

*Sandgrounder is a nickname for someone who hails from Southport.
12:05.
Having crossed the West Lancashire plain I’ve made it as far as Wigan (or Wiggin, as the locals pronounce it) to arrive at Wallgate station. I’m not saying I feel old but I remember the old Lancashire and Yorkshire railway building and the station being illuminated by gas lighting!
I resisted the temptation of the areas excellent real ale pubs and merely stopped for lunch on the hoof – chips and curry sauce from the chipshop outside the station. Making my way to North Western station which was thronged by young girls who seemed to be wearing more make-up than clothing and lads with cans of lager glued to their hands, I’m now waiting for a train to Preston.

13:45.
Having made it to Preston aboard a very busy Northern service bound for Blackpool I’ve now swapped to a more sedate service – a local Preston to Colne stopper which will carry me as far as Blackburn.

It stops at all stations en-route, which includes some well-kept stations that are maintained by local adopters (Pleasington being a good example). I’ve been meaning to stop of at some of these stations for years but have never found the time. Maybe one day…
I’ve a small favour to ask…
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Cheers,
Paul















































