Derelict London

Roddy Lumsden just sent me this link to a brilliant site about derelict pubs in London: http://www.derelictlondon.com/id45.htm I'd never come across it before, and some of the pictures are incredibly haunting.

Staggering to read that six rural pubs close every week in England and Wales. The picture above is a photo of my old local, Duckmanton Lodge (or Ducky Lodge if you come from Calow...), the Civil Service Club where I used to spend hours exploring as a kid, or was seen-and-not-heard at the bar with a packet of crisps and some lemonade while my dad and step grandad had a few pints. It was strange to go home the other week and see the place boarded up: the grounds are just too big to make a business viable, it seems.Walking round Chesterfield recently, I also lamented the death of the beer garden playground. When I was a kid (get the violins out), almost every pub had a climbing frame and a couple of tyre swings out the back. Fathers everywhere must be despairing these days: I remember my dad's familiar refrain, "I'm just taking Helen to the swings...'.

Mind you, not that I minded the beer. Family legend has it that, at the age of five, my dad had taken me to the beer garden of The Arkwright in Duckmanton. Having drained his glass and set it on the table, he was astonished when I piped up: "Let's have another one!". He was less impressed when he returned from the bar with a full pint and I proceeded to climb on the table and kick it over...