Bury Parish Church: A Quick Look Inside

While passing Bury Parish Church recently, I heard some quite beautiful music so I had a quick look inside.

Not sure if it was Evensong or an Evening Liturgical Service, and as I was in a rush, I never found out.

Used to sometimes catch Evensong at Canterbury Cathedral when I lived in Canterbury in the late 1990s/ early 2000s, and it was beautiful, I used to sit down listening to it, reflecting on my life. 

Bury: St. Gabriel's, The Prison-Type Bars

As usual, one of the last stops on my recent trip to my hometown (Bury, Lancashire), was having a painful, nostalgic look at my old secondary school, St. Gabriel's:

The blue bars above were there back in September 1977 when I started St. Gabriel's as an 11-year-old, so nothing new there.

But what shocked me were the prison-type, fence structures in front of the 2: 10 building above and the main entrance below:

But at least the great Mother Theresa's face was etched into the middle top window reminding that St. Gabriel's is officially a Catholic school.

Of course, as many people have told me, the prison-type fence structures above are not unique to St. Gabriel's as most modern urban schools have them as a sad reflection of the demographic change and high crime rates rampant in contemporary Britain (or what was once Great Britain).

Think I must've peered through a fence to get the shot below (the boys' toilet/cloakroom building when I was there):

The old blue, now rusty fence below, at the side of the River Irwell, was, of course, another relic from when I attended the school.

Must say that I preferred St. Joseph's Junior School (Chesham) than St. Gabriel's as the headmistress at the former, Mrs. Hart, offered a genuine residue of pre-Vatican II religiosity (e.g. saying the Angelus, Memorare, and Morning Offering prayers; and singing the Hail Redeemer and Faith of Our Fathers hymns).

To be fair, at St. Gabriel's, some teachers (e.g. Mr. Hogan and Mrs. Roylance did speak seriously about Catholicism) but on the whole, I found the school, a more worldly (almost secular) experience. 

On a positive note, Mr. Hogan introduced my first year class to Wordsworth ('Daffodils') and the tall Mr. Byrne did his best to get teenage minds into Shakespeare (Macbeth and The Merchant of Venice), which will have been no easy task. 

This may be where I gained a sense of attaining catharsis, pathos, and enchantment from canonical Literature, but it's difficult to say, that time is so distant now. 

 

Bury: A Good Night Out

The day before I flew back to Warsaw, I met up with a few, good old friends for an evening drink:

 The Trackside bar is a good, atmospheric place for a drink, especially outside:

What made the evening extra special is that I ran into another group of old friends, three of whom I had started St. Joseph's Infant School with in 1970:

What a perfect way to finish off my almost month long trip to England which had taken in D.H. Lawrence Country (Cossall and Ilkeston); Wordsworth Country (North/South Lake District); and Ramsbottom/Stubbins, near my hometown, Bury. 

Bury Job Centre: A Cryptic Place

Opposite St. Joseph's Church (a quite beautiful building, the interior too):

Stands the Job Centre in Bury:

While in Bury recently, I popped in to see how the place might help me (yeah, especially in hindsight, this was possibly being naive):

And what a shock I got: 

A fresh-faced young man (probably in his mid-20s) just casually told me that through me having lived/ worked abroad for many years, I would have to take a "residency test" to see if I was eligible for applying for any kind of benefit or job.

What is more, when he was told that such a thing is morally reprehensible when aimed at native English people, he claimed that I was being "aggressive" and that I'd "come in with an attitude" (this sounded like par for the course, left-wing, government office diatribe, of course). 

At a deeper level, the young man didn't seem to like dealing with people who can think for themselves and who can challenge what he says (critiquing is a central value of a democratic society, of course).

This is another example of what I've experienced over the past few years that appears to support a growing idea that in terms of repressing free speech, modern-day Britain is on a par with the likes of North Korea.    

Bury: A Good Pint

One of the few nice surprises from the recent trip to Bury (my hometown): a wonderful pint of lager in the Joey Holts' pub, Wyldes.

This pint of lager was well refreshing and had a wonderful, faint malty aftertaste. 

The Wyldes pub itself was good all round, with decent background music (e.g. Echo & The Bunnymen) being played.

Bury: Passing the Victoria Wood Statue

Opposite Bury Library (above), I passed the Victoria Wood statue, which was nowhere near as bad as I'd been led to believe:

There was also a noticeboard alongside the statue, briefly summarising Victoria Wood's life story:

It would appear that Victoria got out of Bury at an early age and made a big success of her life, of course.

Through Summerseat to Ramsbottom

After passing through Nangreaves and the beautiful Gothic-looking church near the top of the Walmersley area of Bury:

I went down Bass Lane (dodging cars all the time) and landed in Summerseat, with the big building on the river looking great below a clear blue sky: 

Having just stepped foot into Summerseat, I remembered the old country lane(s) through to Ramsbottom:

And was soon passing through what seemed to have once been Nuttall Village:

If it hadn't been for the notice board, I would never have known.

And following the river, I passed a flight of steps:

And reached Nuttall Park:

Which brought back memories of playing football as a schoolboy in the late 1970s.

And in Ramsbottom, I had a rest near the Civic Hall:

I was soon to return to Bury and couldn't help but feel that while Bury town centre suffers from obvious, modern urban, demographic problems, Ramsbottom, Stubbins, and Edenfield still offer a taste or echo of old/traditional Lancashire, and this is why I like these places.