Aylesbury Derby

March, beautiful sunshine spring has truly sprung. It was Saturday and on for the long drive up to Derby, I was on the road by 08:30 watching the sun burn through the light golden haze in the sky. The run was good and getting there was easy. One small problem was that my Sat Nav device had been set up for Afikaans as the voice, which I don’t speak, unsurprisingly. One thing I noticed about the Afrikaans, was that the voice was very well done and had a considerate tone to it, much more preferable to the harsh instructive tones of the English voice. Perhaps I could try out other voices in the future and see which are nicer to listen to, then learn that language and its directions.
The reason why I was in Derby was for a preparation day for X:Site at Spring Harvest in Skegness Butlins in April, a week of fun activities for 8-11 year olds. The team were all nice people and I think a lot was achieved and made clearer that day. I certainly left with a list of things which I needed to have a look at and get on with.
After the day was finished at around 1600, I set off for the Aylesbury Avenue in Chaddeston, Derby.
The street was quiet, deserted except for a friendly Manx cat which seemed very lonely and was happy to say hello.

This Aylesbury seems to be named after Aylesbury, the place. All the streets around are other place names in the UK and I can find no link to another set of data, or a list of names.
There is a new development which kind of scuppers the whole taking pictures of Aylesbury as places and that is Google’s Street view. For example here is the Streetview in Google, compared to my photo. Now in future I will need to make sure myself is in the photo or take something of mine to put in the photo too. Everything becomes slightly more complex. That’s normal.

Eastbourne's Admirable Aylesbury

Well this is my 1st Aylesbury for 2009, it certainly won’t be the last. This little beauty is nestled in the retirement town of Eastbourne on the South Coast of England. It is a nicely set out street of homely, well, houses and all kept nice and neat. I had a quick walk up and down the road and was all very pleasant. Nothing remarkable about it.



Now you may be asking what is an Aylesbury doing in Eastbourne? A bit ridiculous. Where did the town planners get that idea from?
I researched various street names around the area and they are all names of famous admirals eg.

Admiral Edward Boscawen, PC, RN (August 19 1711 – January 10 1761) was a British admiral and politician

Ramsey Way Sir Bertram Home Ramsay KCB, KBE, MVO (20 January 1883 - 2 January 1945) was a British admiral during World War II. He was an important contributor in the field of amphibious warfare.

Gardner Close Alan Gardner, 1st Baron Gardner (12 February 1742 - 1 January 1809)

Wade Close Field Marshal George Wade (1673–March 14, 1748) served as a British military commander and Commander-in-Chief of the Forces.

Sturdee Close, Admiral of the Fleet Sir Frederick Charles Doveton Sturdee, 1st Baronet, GCB, KCMG, CVO (9 June 1859 - 7 May 1925) was a British admiral.

Cunningham Drive, Admiral of the Fleet Andrew Browne Cunningham, 1st Viscount Cunningham of Hyndhope, KT, GCB, OM, DSO (7 January 1883 – 12 June 1963),

Drake Avenue, Sir Francis Drake, Vice Admiral (c. 1540 – 27 January 1596),

Fraser Ave, Admiral of the Fleet Bruce Austin Fraser, 1st Baron Fraser of North Cape GCB, KBE (5 February 1888 – 12 February 1981)

Hood Close, Various Admirals of that name

Beatty Road, Admiral of the Fleet David Beatty, 1st Earl Beatty GCB, OM, GCVO, DSO (17 January 1871 – 11 March 1936)

Raleigh Close, Sir Walter Raleigh or Ralegh[1] (c. 1552 – 29 October 1618), was a famed English writer, poet, soldier, courtier and explorer.

Jervis Ave, John Jervis, 1st Earl of St Vincent GCB PC RN (9 January 1735–14 March 1823)

Jellicoe Close, John Rushworth Jellicoe, 1st Earl Jellicoe, GCB, OM, GCVO (5 December 1859 – 20 November 1935) was a British Royal Navy admiral who commanded the Grand Fleet at the Battle of Jutland.

Mountbatten Dr, Louis Francis Albert Victor Nicholas Mountbatten, 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma, KG, GCB, OM, GCSI, GCIE, GCVO, DSO, PC (25 June 1900 – 27 August 1979)

Princes Road, Edward VII (Albert Edward; 9 November 1841 – 6 May 1910)
Collingwood Close

Fisher Close, Admiral of the Fleet John Arbuthnot "Jackie" Fisher, 1st Baron Fisher of Kilverstone,[3][4] GCB, OM, GCVO (25 January 1841 – 10 July 1920)

Collumbus Way, Vice-Admiral Philip Howard Colomb, RN (May 29, 1831 - October 13, 1899).

Cabot Close, (c. 1450 – c. 1498)[2], known in English as John Cabot, was an Italian navigator and explorer commonly credited as the first European to discover North America, in 1497, notwithstanding Norseman Leif Ericson's landing (c. 1003). The Canadian and United Kingdom government's official position is that he landed on the island of Newfoundland.

Vian Ave, Sir Philip Louis Vian (15 July 1894-27 May 1968) was a British naval officer who served in both World Wars.

Aylesbury’s famous Admiral is from the Baronet Aylesbury, a title which no longer exists.
Sir Thomas Aylesbury (1576 – 1657) was born in London, joined Christ Church Oxford in 1598 and was a dab hand at mathematics. He became Assistant to Charles, Earl of Nottingham, who was Lord High Admiral of England. When George Villiers seceded Charles, Aylesbury was made Master of Requests, (a post that should be resurrected for local night clubs to guarantee good music is played) and also Master of the Mint (not the polo variety) When the civil war broke out, Aylesbury stayed on the royalist side and consequently had to flee to Antwerp in 1649 once King Charles I was beheaded and the cause was lost. He died abroad in Breda. His son was the last of the baronets of Aylesbury.



Here is a picture of him by William Dobson (1611-1646), who was a portrait painter.
Thomas Aylesbury is in a rather serious mood wearing the robes of the Master of Requests, and is holding, as an symbol of his office, a petition to the king. Behind him on the left is a view of Oxford and on the right, an antique bust thought at the time to represent Seneca, a stoic philosopher, dramatist, and pleader of causes.

Clearly a person worth of naming a road after.
That day I also made a trip to Earthship Brighton to have a look at a possible new way to design homes. It was very impressive and well worth a visit. It is an off grid, off mains, off water house, entirely self reliant. It is made of car tyres and timber and is a very nice place. All the heating is regulated by the thermal mass inside and that which is generated by the sunlight.
I agree that micro power generation and self sufficiency are a good thing, if you are in the desert, in a country with an unreliable power grid and no safe running water, however it does seem to bee a bit over the top for a city where power is reliable and water is plentiful. I suppose that if you are creating it and storing it, you will be more careful with it in the long run and there is guarantee for the future that supplies will be reliable. Overall I think the building is a success and if more people are aware of it and the extreme future it portrays, they might feel a bit more inclined to modify their way of living to minimise energy use, recycle and use water more efficiently, like in water butts.

The day before the day before the night before christmas

Basildon is blessed in many ways, it is a beautiful town with a good population and also it happens to have two Aylesburys, like Sheffield, and is a fairer place because of it. I set off on the quest to find Aylesburys, dropping by my friend Joe’s house to take him along as a travelling companion. He is a useful and excellent map reader. Driving to places on your own is certainly not ideal with a map between your legs, it tends to lead to me getting lost and nearly crashing, the worst of both worlds. Joe is not new to Aylesbury hunting, having been with me for Slough’s Aylesbury a couple of year’s back. He also brings with him photography skills, a good sense of humour, an excellent map reader, an enthusiasm for the absurd, a laptop and mince pies which made an excellent breakfast.
We set off round the M25 which was swelled with Christmassy traffic, for it was the day before the night before the night before Christmas. Our ultimate goal was to pick up my brother from Cambridge via a rather long circuitous route, involving two days driving, and an overnight stay, but it was all worth it. It was all smooth running to Basildon and after taking a few wrong turns we were in Aylesbury Mews our 20th Aylesbury and first stop of the day. Our friend Cucumber texted Joe to ask whether he wanted to play football that evening, as he knew that Joe may not have gone with me that day if he had seen sense, or had more important things to do. Luckily he hadn’t and I sent him this photo back as a reply.

Aylesbury Mews is a small cul de sac of houses built in the early 1990’s and is well kept and tidy. There was an interesting set of Christmas decorations around one fir tree that looked as if it had tried to escape and someone had thrown a football goal net around it to lash it to the floor. It didn’t look very Christmassy more like a forlorn trapped animal.
Having ticked off another Aylesbury, we set off for our 21st Aylesbury. This was to be in the sunny town of Clacton on Sea, a place which I did not have high hopes for. It was a long drive to Clacton and we got there around lunch time. We parked at our next Aylesbury and went to take some photos. A family were just leaving their drive and looked on in great interest and fear as we tried to take timed photos of us by the Aylesbury sign. Slightly embarrassed as to what we were doing, we paused our failing photo taking and waited until we could continue undisturbed, not that we were doing anything dodgy.

The housing estate was some 1970’s housing and was quite pleasant, only a stones throw from the sea front, so we proceeded down to the front to find some fish and chips and have a break from driving. As now walking around felt incredibly slow, almost sluggish, everything looked as if it should be going past my eyes at 70 miles per hour and my hands were slightly numb from the vibration of the steering wheel. We got down to the sea front and walked along it. It was pretty sombre, lots of places either dilapidated and looking as if they should be demolished, or under scaffolding. Arcades full of loose promises, flashing lights and unsubstantiatable claims, like “unlimited fun” “ultimate pleasure”. Realistically the arcades were empty of fun, punters and potential.
We found a cracking fish and chip shop off the sea front and in the town centre, it was busy, a good sign, and I got some rock and chips as an alternative to cod, Joe went for the battered sausage. Very nice fish and only £4.00, tidy. We sat on the sea front looking at the sorry pier offering ‘family entertainment at its best, free entry for thrills galore’. On top of a nearby building we saw some depressed pigeons considering the jump, fish and chips were advertised at an extortionate £7.20. It was as if we had taken a punt on a giant Aylesbury slot machine and won nothing. There was only one thing left to do… we walked along the pier. We were greeted by the worst Christmas decoration on our trip. A dog, in a bag, being held by radioactive dwarf Santa, in a cage. The worst Cliff Richard music was being played on a terrible 100v line system.

On the pier was the Jungle safari, two plastic cactii, not traditionally jungle plants were embarrassingly placed next to a giant gecko and a small rope bridge. This was not ‘family entertainment at its best’.
We decided to leave quickly as we had had enough of the pier and Clacton. As we drove down the front, the war memorial looked decidedly quality with its neat beds of flowers and well clipped grass. It lived up to its expectations unlike so much of the rest of Clacton-on-Sea. We were off to Norwich, a long way north up A roads, not dual carriageways, the going was slow, especially as we started off on country lanes stuck behind a very slow driver, who travelled 10 mph below the speed limit and as the roads were small and windy, we could not overtake them.
We at last made it up to Norwich after Joe turned DJ and played some tunes on his laptop. We asked ourselves, has Weezer ever supported Iron Maiden at a gig or been on the same bill as them at a festival? We encountered a lot of traffic at Stanton due to a nasty crash on the high street there and so had to make it to Norwich via an altered route. This was an Aylesbury too many today. I was getting dangerously tired from driving and was starting to doubt the search’s success. I had driven over Essex, Suffolk and Norfolk, for what? To see some signs that some unimaginative county council had erected, couldn’t you think up some names from local history or natural wildlife rather than tarring the good name of Aylesbury with this shambles? Nothing we saw that day was inspiring, imaginative or beautiful beyond what I normally see. What was the point? The original idea was to see interesting bits of the country and see more of Britain. Today all I had seen was mediocrity and dreariness. I had bitten off more than I could chew and it was hard to swallow. I gritted my teeth and we made it to our third Aylesbury that day. On the way, we passed the sign “School for the deaf and dumb” made famous by Steve Coogan in series 1 of I’m Alan Partridge, “Will there be noise, won’t there be noise?” Also on the A140, off to the left was a Partridge Way, perhaps nothing to do with the naming of Alan Partridge, perhaps named in honour of him. But at least a nice stamp on Norwich of his comedy existence. We found Aylesbury Close, took a picture, turned around, and left, keen to get to Cambridge as soon as possible powered on by chocolates and water.

We hit Cambridge at around 1900 and went for a curry at a restaurant where the maitre d’ makes enthusiastic grunting noises and is generally funny, the food is cheap and nice and you can be quite rowdy. My curry has broad bean size green pods in, for a medium hot curry, it was very hot, then I realised these were chilli pods and were very hot. Desserts were amazing with a frozen banoffee pie and lemon sorbet in a lemon, probably freshly made circa 1973. We discussed the day and all the events and decided to make a lot of jelly as we hadn’t had any in a long while and needed something silly to do. So on the way home we bought enough jelly for 10 pints and made it to set that evening. The next morning we ate jelly for breakfast and had a huge sandwich with 50 hams for lunch and drove home, ready for Christmas.

Beer for Brains

This is my 1st international Aylesbury, in the country of Wales, a country which uses beer as a synonym for brains, similar to the idea that “wine makes mummy clever”, possibly a reason why it never really expanded. Incidentally a Norwegian guy discovered that alcohol had a negative effect on scientific output, that is, that the more you drink the less papers you will publish.
I was there because of a friend’s stag weekend, who had decided to go to the Brecon Beacons for a jolly. I drove up on the Friday picking up a guy called Charlie from his home in Amersham and made it to Cardiff by 8:30pm and met up with several other people from Dave’s past and present. We went for a curry selecting the place from a wide variety of Cardiff’s many curry houses and takeaways. In the takeaway, we noticed several interesting articles in the local paper including “man caught driving without a licence gets 2 month driving ban” How does that work, if you don’t have a licence, you aren’t allowed to drive anyway. Also, “streaker seen in pay and display”. Need I explain more?
We woke up the next morning and I realised I did not know where this Aylesbury was in the city so asked Dave if I could look it up. Charlie was vaguely interested and described my search as “something to do before I die”. Clearly a good strategist when it comes to planning, transport is usually difficult for dead people. I worked out where in Cardiff was and that it would work out if I went whilst going home, so I safely stowed my directions in my bag.
We set off to the Brecon beacons hopelessly lost and took a most meandering route to the campsite, randomly arriving before some of the others due to the wonders of Chris’s map reading and navigational skills. The campsite owner was most hospitable and understanding of us. He said that in the previous stag do a guy had tried to hit him with a baseball bat, but couldn’t because he had tied him to a bench, so we knew we were safe, there clearly weren’t enough benches. Dave’s housemates made a tonne of sandwiches for us. We had a wail of a time; we went for a walk and ended up climbing up a mountain. This was a tiring type of mountain that kept having false tops, so that when you hit one, you could see another a distance away. Once we all reached the top we made human pyramids, getting really organised, we were two people away from the 15 man pyramid, but managed the 10 man pyramid perfectly OK.
Once we had got down the mountain, we got down to doing a BBQ, playing touch rugby, having a bonfire, basically a great time to catch up with people and get to know new friends.
The next morning we did sausages and bacon, got packed up and drove up to a reservoir. I got the car stuck on a steep incline but Charlie rescued me from the slope, hill starts back in Aylesbury never were that bad. When we got to the reservoir we had an early morning dip in the chilly waters. The water was so cold that plunging in made you want to shiver all over and keep moving so your muscles did not seize up. After several jumps into the lake we made our moist way home to Cardiff, soggy shorts successfully flying out the window.
We had lunch in the pub up the road from Dave’s house and thought about going home. I posited my plan to go to an Aylesbury and one individual, who shall not be named, claimed Aylesbury is the worst place in the world! Clearly they were unenlightened and at some point will see the error of their ways.
Charlie and Chris joined our merry jaunt as we set off on our way home, beautiful sunshine, groovy music, party time. We got off the dual carriageway and went down a welsh sounding, Pantmawr Road and then on to lots of roads called Park something: Park Road, Park Lane, Park Crescent and Park Park Park.
On the right was a set of shabby flats, clearly not even a mansion, despite the label of Aylesbury Mansions, let alone several. Both lads were keen to get going, so I quickly got a photo and we got out of there ASAP. Oh what a good way to round off the weekend. I dropped Chris in Bristol and Charlie in Amersham and got home through the fairly heavy Sunday afternoon traffic. Good job well done.

Essex Aylesburys

The Aylesburys I have visited have so far been in easy to reach locations, situated around places that I go to on a regular basis, or have been quite cheap for me to get to. So for example, Aylesbury in Slough, I knew it was there, I had it on my list, however as I was there anyway, it was a simple find. Aylesbury in Burbage, pretty easy, within cycling distance of my dad’s flat in Swindon, so staying there 2 days enabled me to visit the various Aylesburys in that area.
These next two Aylesburys are a step up in the game of Aylesburys. These involved actually having to go to them purposefully as there is not really any reason why I would go there normally, although I did create an excuse for myself that, because I had a PAT testing machine waiting for me in Gillingham, Kent, I could visit these two on the way back, despite there out of the way nature.
The day was definitely one of change, rain one second, sunshine the next. I set off down the A41, stopped at Hemel Hempstead for some fuel, as it is marginally cheaper to buy it there than in Aylesbury and had a quick chat with the lady behind the counter about sleepy times of day. For some reason, everyone has a time of day where they suddenly feel really tired or sleepy, then half an hour later, they are ok again. Mine is round half past 4 in the afternoon, or midnight if I get past those two I am ok. So presumably it should also happen at 8 in the morning as this makes a 3 times a day cycle.
I made it round the M25, an achievement as I have never driven on a motorway, it wasn’t as scary as everyone makes out. I tried to avoid hogging the middle lane and leave lots of space between me and the car in front and always indicating when going between lanes, so I think I did ok. I made it to Gillingham at 1245 and met Ian, the retired electrician who was selling me his old PAT tester (which is silly as PAT stands for Portable appliance tester, so infact you are actually saying Portable appliance tester, tester, a bit like a Personal Identification Number, number). This machine allows you to test the electrical insulation of an appliance and is part of a series of tests to see if it is safe. Ian was a kind man, who gave me a cup of tea and we talked property prices, Princes Risborough and of course PATs.
Refreshed, I set off for the 1st Aylesbury of the afternoon in Basildon. A very difficult Aylesbury to reach as the roundabout that I was ready to turn right to get to it, was turned into a straight road so no opportunity to get to it. I got lost in a maze of roads none of which had names or were on my map. Eventually I saw a road named Durham Road which was on my map, so I was saved. I followed it around, squeezed through a really small gap with lots of vicious bollards and followed my map to Aylesbury Drive. A 1990s housing estate with lots of preplanted trees, standardised prefabricated red brick houses and faux individualism.



I grabbed some chicken sandwiches by some garages and set off to Braintree, the wrong way down the A130. Canvey Island was interesting but blurry and once back on the right side of the carriageway I left it far behind. Again Google.co.uk maps failed me, a road that was shown as linking into an estate was nowhere to be found. I drove round the maze of the next set of roads trying to get my way back to the roads listed on the map. Nothing, so I tried from the other side of the estate and arrived there instantly. How annoying.



Now it was raining buckets and very miserable. I faced a long drive back home round the M25. Luckily the journey back was uneventful and as I came down the hill to Aston Clinton the storm clouds gathered around Aylesbury, thick black rolling clouds that made day into night, sheet rain and long queues of traffic.
That night I went to my friend Dave’s house where we had pancakes as it was Shrove Tuesday and played Rapidough, a game where half the fun seems to be arguing who won each round, a good laugh.

Aylesbury Street, MK

Milton Keynes, supposedly the city of the car, because you are in a mess if you don't have one. Appropriately the first Aylesbury that I have visited which I have driven myself to, what fun!.
A light sunny January morning, I packed my camera and got some maps together and set off from Aylesbury, for Aylesbury. I decided to go on the back roads on the way there, through Winslow and up into Milton Keynes through Stony Stratford. On the way I saw quite a few birds of prey, went past the house Tony Blair was reportedly intrested in buying and, for the sake of local residents, thankfully didn't. I travelled through some chocolate box villages like Thornton and Beachampton which maintained their rural attributes.
I arrived in Aylesbury around lunchtime to find it part of the old Milton Keynes, the old town of Wolverton. It was a one way street of red brick terraced houses, terraced cars and narrow pavements. It is a very long straight street with little alleyways giving access to back gardens along overgrown passages.



A group of pensioners passed the day in the square with a small parade of shops. There was a Milton Keynes Christian Foundation Centre there, where all Milton Keynes Christians are started off. I looked through the window expecting to see trenches and pile engineers, there weren't any, but there was a creche with a pile of Duplo bricks, so clearly the foundations of Milton Keynes Christians begin with something different, not bricks and mortar, a good way to build your church.
I left Aylesbury Street and set off to Milton Keynes shopping centre, on the way courteously let through a narrow gap in the parked cars by a kind lady and given a free parking ticket by a different kind lady. I set off to the Sony Centre to see what they could do about my handycam's active interface shoe and its lack of a microphone. Clearly being Sony, they don't even sell an adaptor for the handycam and you have to buy a seperate mic with a special socket for about £70. How wonderfully incompatible, they clearly think they are special.
So having saved money by not buying anything, I drove home. I went the main road route this time, via the Linslade bypass which has no hard shoulders, a very dangerous thing methinks, especially as people go very fast down that road. No excuses really, they took long enough to build it. I think the council should ask for their money back. I got home and had beetroot and venison, which is great going for a leftovers meal.

Youth Tunez 2

Hooray!
Good News, the hotel had the projector all along, apparently they didn't think it was a projector but thought it was a handbag and were loath to mention it to us as we could have nicked it. A whole weight has been lifted off my back and I am now in the clear.

Youth Tunez

Well, what a couple of days. I found something wonderful, lost something valuable and had a rollercoaster of emotions.

Youth Tunez, well the name is self explanatory, is an Asian Christian Youth network, when I say ‘is’ that is different from before Tuesday 31^st July as before then, I would have said ‘will be’. Youth Tunez was launched on Tuesday 31^st July in Slough by the lovely Michelle Gill and her auntie Aster. Why I am telling you this is probably quite obvious due to the nature of this website, but what was I doing at the launch of an Asian Christian Youth network, being neither a youth or Asian? Well I was being a Christian, and being a good friend of Michelle, I took along a PA and AV system to help the show run smoothly.

We set off on our great journey, in 2 cars full of anticipation, PA kit and nerves as this was to be a great show, I was confident we had everything and knew the ropes, others were more nervous about impressions and how it would run. My mate Joe who kindly came along to watch was on fire as we came up for a wide game around Coventry to amuse new students, familiarise them with Coventry and offer them the opportunity to win great prizes. We talked in the car and were warned of people who think they know everything who try to take over the place, with that in mind we entered Slough.

“Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn't fit for humans now,
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!”

Slough, John Betjeman (1937)

(due to a striking coincidence I had involvement in helping to create a CD of John Betjeman’s lesser known poems for the Edinburgh fringe of 2007 read by Lance Pierson, funny how names pop up like London buses, coming along in pairs (not arriving late))

Now, Slough is not one of the nicest places in the world but I hardly think bombing the place would improve it. If anything, bombing a place makes it a lot worse, as the Americans and the terrorists have kindly shown us, mind you, perhaps there is psychology going on, by eagerly inviting bombing, terrorist's targets are moved, as the possibility of actually benefiting a government through an attack becomes a real one. Of course this possibility has always existed, hence the theories of economic imperialism in the 1890s and conspiracy theories such as, that the aerial attacks on the World Trade Centre were staged to allow America to build an oil empire in the Middle East, but few defence academics have written about national defence being sought through poetry. Thankfully the ploy has worked, the pen is mightier than the sword and there is a place where we could do the gig.

As we turned up the road leading to Baylis house I saw what can only be described as a little beauty of a find on the right hand side, “Hughenden Road leading to Aylesbury Crescent”, what a sight! I exclaimed, “we have got to go to that place and get a picture” Michelle laughed without knowing that I would not leave Slough without doing so or what she had just caught a glimpse of. Joe made a great point that my assumption that all Aylesburys must be in some way associated with the original Aylesbury to be false. What if the ethos of an Aylesbury copy was copied, the new place would be incredibly unlike the original Aylesbury? Well its like the old gas problem, what if 100ml of helium were put in 1l of oxygen which was then put into 10l of nitrogen. No matter how much gas you take out of the resulting mixture, a proportionate amount of helium would be in that mixture allowing you to see the origin of the source.

Baylis House was OK, we sorted out the un hoovered carpet and got rid of the unwanted stage rapidly without much bother, edited down 2 tunes to be played, so that we wouldn’t have to cue the tracks up during the performance and went off to get suited and booted for the performance, smooth.

Joe found out that it wasn’t just a gig he was going to watch and became the night’s AV engineer. He did an excellent job working with helpful translators so that Punjabi and Urdu songs could be projected in time with the singing and not by pure guesswork.

The gig went smoothly except for a numpty man who turned up with a poorly mastered CD at the last minute. He insisted on fiddling with the sound desk and made his whole act turn into a cringe worthy embarrassment as he insisted on turning up the CD when it was obviously clipping, actually moving knobs on the sound desk himself to make it worse, and making a horrible sound. Then for the second track, demanding a loud volume, then standing there in silence for around 30 seconds, rabbit in headlights style making cryptic hand movements and asking stupid questions like “has this mixer got any special effects on this track?”???? as if it were my fault. No mate your track just sounded as it would in any CD player, if you don’t like it, why did you want it played in the first place? Until some enthusiastic musicians leapt in so he could sing a little and feel better about himself. An Asian equivalent of John Betjeman perhaps? scorning something as horrible, only to desire to change it and inadvertantly ruin it further.

The nuts and bolts of the event were that people caught the vision of what Youth Tunez was and got to know each other a bit better, and this was achieved over food, excellently explained by Michelle’s brother Hanook, “well, this stuff is rice and the things in the rice are peas” and so on, Rebecca sorted me and Joe out with a less patronising picture of what we were eating and it ended up being Hanook who struggled with his dinner finding the curry far too hot. Joke.

We packed the car and headed off down the road for one mission only, to get home. But I reminded Michelle about our primary task and we turned into Aylesbury Crescent and got our photos, not much time for sight seeing as it was 11'o'clock at night and we were all tired and were busy analysing the event.


Note, this is the first Aylesbury that I have gone to see with someone else, therefore I am actually in the photo as Joe, not only acted as AV assistant, roadie, audio engineer but also moonlighted as a photographer on my camera phone. I initally experimented with taking pictures of Aylesburys with me in the photo but the results were gruesome and dodgy, me squinting into a camera or doing the bad, 'this shot is taken at the end of my arm' (which I suppose all photos are to an extent, in that you need a finger to press the shutter button) but you know what I mean.


2 days later, projector missing, help!

£1000 piece of equipment, gone

Nowhere to be seen

Not in church, my garage, or any car

No one remembers it going

No relative has it,

One place left to look.

Baylis House, Slough

The journey to Slough is rapid when combined with an anxious driver and a racing mind, one comment punctured the atmosphere, “There’s a sign for Amersham road, do you want to take a picture of that?”. She clearly missed the point of the whole journey, so projectorless we left Slough for a second time and wondering where or who is now benefiting from a new toy. Rock bottom. More details to follow.

Aylesbury Ice Cream

Well, things have been quiet, quieter than a gnat, a dead gnat, a dead gnat wearing slippers on a shag pile carpet, in a padded cell, on the moon. However please don't see this as a cop out. Although I have not been visiting Aylesbury's recently, scuppered by my inability to pass a driving test and having no money to travel by train. I have been planning trips and scheming plans and I am always on the look out for a link.

An interesting coincidence happened at the International Youth Alpha Conference at Holy Trinity Brompton. Rich "the mighty Cucumber" Turner and myself were on the way home, or back to a friends house after a cracking worship session, very tired from the day's many seminars and great talks from the guys from Youth for Christ and Soul Survivor. We were loitering in Harrod's (surely it should be renamed Al- Fayed's) shop front, gazing at the display, and capturing footage for a future VJ set, when we happened upon the closed entrance to Knightsbridge tube station. We were not perturbed by this interesting situation and were just about to carry on up the road, when we were approached by three South Africans. They identified us as safe people as we were carrying the folders from the same conference that we were also at. Thinking about it, even if they weren't from the same conference as us, they probably would have approached us, as the folders were pink and yellow and probably made us look quite camp. We all wondered down Brompton Road having a chat together about the day and about where we all came from, they were from Durban and found out we were from Aylesbury. They soon realised that they were in infamous company as in South Africa, Aylesbury is a frozen yoghurt chain of stores and they had partaken of this said foodstuff! It was a truely amazing co-incidence, that out of a random meeting a certain camaraderie was formed over icecream and broken tubes. Fantastic, I instantly felt a bond with them. Sadly as I am only half good at networking, I did not get any contact details from them, I suppose that should be called netting, getting to know someone slightly but then not working to contact them again, as it doesn't work. But I shall now aim to get to South Africa at some point to sample this amzing food stuff. Perhaps an Aylesbury menu is emerging

Aylesbury Duck

....

Aylesbury Ice cream

Aylesbury's Christmas carol

I also noticed a great mention of Aylesbury on Blackadder's Christmas Carol. Worth a read and a laugh, here's the screne its in and I found it on this website.

http://paul.merton.ox.ac.uk/filmtv/blackadder.html

[Inside, Queen Elizabeth I and Nursie are tearing apart coloured- paper chains. Edmund enters, carrying the curtained portrait.]

Edmund: Good morning, Your Majesty. Christmas again, eh? What joy. [puts the portrait down] Don't you just love it?

Elizabeth: No -- I hate it! In fact, I've just abolished it.

Edmund: I'm sorry...?

Elizabeth: I ought to block up the chimneys, burn all the crackers, and kill anyone I see carrying a present. [looks at the portrait]

Edmund: Oh. [lifts the portrait and prepares to leave]

Elizabeth: [points at portrait, speaks demandingly] What's that, Edmund?

Edmund: This? ... It's a window...

Elizabeth: A window?

Edmund: Yes, but you seem to have one here, so, sorry to disturb you...

[exits, leaving her baffled (Nursie just grins brainlessly)]

[Outside, Edmund hands the portrait to Baldrick, who holds it from the bottom, so it covers his face. Edmund closes the door, and pulls open the portrait's curtains.]

Edmund: Well, so much for that. [punches the Queen's face in the portrait; his hand goes through the canvas and hits Baldrick's face. He then motions to Lord Melchett, who approaches] Ah, Melchett! Greetings! I trust that Christmas brings you its traditional mix of good food and violent stomach cramp.

Melchett: ...and compliments of the season to _you_, Blackadder. May the yuletide log slip from your fire and burn your house down.

Edmund: I'm glad I saw you -- I feel it only fair to warn you that the Queen has banned the Christmas, so I wouldn't get her a present this year.

Melchett: Oh, I'm indebted to you for that advice, Blackadder, and I shall, of course, follow it to the letter, the day I get my brain replaced by a cauliflower. [exits]

Edmund: [claps his hands once] Hah! Got him with my subtle plan!

Baldrick: [lowering the portrait finally] I can't see any subtle plan.

Edmund: Baldrick, you wouldn't see a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on top of a harpsichord, singing "Subtle Plans Are Here Again." It's what we call a double-bluff. Melchett will undoubtedly do the opposite of what I tell him, go and get an enormous present, give it to the Queen, and then [runs his finger across his neck and makes a quacky noise].

Baldrick: What, he'll turn into a duck?

Edmund: Yes... [walks off; Baldrick follows, with the portrait]

[In the throne room, Nursie continues to tear apart paper chains, while Elizabeth is looking out the window.]

Nursie: Pity about this, Tinkywink. You always used to love this time of year.

Elizabeth: [turns round; she is fondling a Christmas pudding] I know -- leaving a little mince pie and a glass of wine out for Father Christmas, and then scoffing it because I was a princess and could do what I bloody well liked. [sits in throne]

Nursie: ...and wondering if your father's wife would last until Boxing Day without having her head cut off.

Elizabeth: We knew; if he gave her a hat, she'd probably be all right.

Nursie: Happy days...

Elizabeth: Yes... Maybe I was a little rash...

[Edmund and Melchett enter and bow.]

Elizabeth: Ah! Boys! Welcome back! [hands the pudding to Nursie] But, Melchett, what have you got under your coat?

[Edmund raises his eyebrows, smiling slyly.]

Elizabeth: [demandingly] It's not a present, is it?

Melchett: A present, Majesty? but of course! [reveals a crown; mutters to Edmund] You're so painfully transparent, Blackadder.

Edmund: Am I...

Elizabeth: Oh, that's fab!!! I _love_ presents!

[Edmund rolls his eyes, unhappy about the Queen's wishy-washiness.]

Elizabeth: [to Melchett] You know, for a moment I took against Christmas, but I'm completely dippy about it again. In fact, I'd like to marry you! ...if you weren't as unattractive as a giant slug!

Melchett: [laughing] Oh, pish, Majesty!

Elizabeth: But, anyway, to reward you, I'm going to give you _lots_ of presents! Um, fancy a castle?

Melchett: Well, Windsor, Majesty...

Elizabeth: ...title?

Melchett: Duke of Kent?

Elizabeth: ...anything else?

Melchett: Well, a devilish saucy wife would be fun.

Elizabeth: [thinks] Lady Jane Pottle!

Melchett: Oh, yummy!

Elizabeth: I think she's Blackadder's girl at the moment, but that doesn't matter, does it, Blacky...

Edmund: No, of course not, Ma'am... and perhaps Lord Melchett would like to whip me naked through the streets of Aberdeen...

Melchett: Oh, I don't think we need go that far, Blackadder...

Edmund: Oh, too kind...

Melchett: No -- Aylesbury's quite far enough.

Elizabeth: Super. Well done, Melchy. And, now, Blackadder, what have you got me?

Edmund: Erm...

I'm off to Bedfordshire

Bedford in the summer is a very pretty place around the edges. The middle still is suffering from the 60's and 70's architecture. Bedford has become a mini Poland, since the country's membership of the EU. This has resulted in a wonderful new dimension to the town's colourful history which has seen many twists and turns throughout the years. It's role has changed over the years, the rebellion of the Lord which resulted in the destruction of Bedford Castle, the reaction to the english civil war and the haven created for the BBC and a Polish regiment during World War Two.
Of course roughly a mile to the east of the town centre is Aylesbury Road, not a road to Aylesbury but part of an estate with many pretty trees and some well kept bungalows and semi detached family houses. Also there is Aylesbury Court, a 70's block of flats that still seems to be kept in good condition.
Nearby, Italian style cafe serves good food at reasonable prices; just the place to grab some breakfast. The best joke I heard all day, although quite lame, was a lady sitting in a wheelchair with her husband by a bench. Another old lady sat down and asked the lady in the wheelchair "have you got a parking ticket for that?". Both laugh.

Ashford Ducks

Well, on Thursday I made a trip to Kent to have a look at another Aylesbury, this time in Ashford, just off Juction 9 of the M20. I went on my bike again, this time fitting well into the back of a hired car, that my Dad gets every time he goes southwards. We hit Ashford about 0900 and I made quick progress to Aylesbury Road, a typical Barrett style housing estate in the North of Ashford. It quickly became apparent that this Aylesbury road had its name originate, not from the town of Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire, but from the creatures that origninate from there and make its football team famous. Other roads in the area included, Muscowy Road , Dunnock Road, Siskin Close and Snipe Close, all birds. This is my first duck related Aylesbury and it felt good to see.

Having found my Aylesbury of the day, I set about cycling to Dymnchurch where I was to meet my Dad. I went first to the tourist information centre, by the church in Ashford to find a map as like before I had forgotten mine and found a 'Cycle maps of Kent' map, which was very useful. Having paid for it I set off, only to return to the shop 10 mins later, realizing I had forgotten to take the map with me. My second attempt was better, if not frustrated by the fact I didn't know where I was and therefore had no refereence to start from, so cycled around lots of roads to find road signs telling me where I was going and therefore indicating which junction I was on. Eventually I found a suitable road and set off down it. After about a mile I found the correct gate across the rail track and to a footpath which was marked on the cycle route. This footpath lasted all of 4 metres, then became thick brambles, stinging nettles and thistles. I used my bike as a scythe and pushed it through the vegetation for about 100 metres until I emerged, covered in green and stung many times and with lots of thorns stuck in me. Having removed all of them, I carried on along the other side of the hedgerow to avoid a situation like that happening again and found the road where I expected it to be. From there, my cycle to Dymnchuch was very pleasant and I met a very helpful farmer on the road who advised me the best way to Dymnchurch. I saw the Royal Military Canal and the monument at Bilsington to the philanthropist Lord of the manor, sadly a dying breed in British culture, probably as the lot of the common folk has improved through government intervention and those previous generous souls. The rise of the corporation with faceless shareholders has caused much industrial success to be refocussed upon making more profits, rather than the accrueing of wealth and then giving it to those that need it, the so called, 'trickle down effect' of liberal economics.
I arrived in Dymnchurch at around lunchtime and sat eating freshly caught fish and recently fried chips on the beach with my feet in the sand and the sun on my face, glorious. I sat and read for a while and went to inspect those extraordinary defences, the Martello towers, when I realised I was dropping off to sleep. I made my way to where my Dad worked and chatted to his colleagues about my preoccupation with Aylesburys while he finished off for the day and then returned home via one long traffic jam.

Aylesbury or Salisbury?

Last week I visited, rather naively two Ailesburys, without knowing whether they origniated from the original place or not. Why has the road not been spelt correctly? Why is it not rationalised with the common spelling? I asked the same question about it and this week have looked in various places to find out.
My initial research into the place found this snippet of information.

"Old English words, such as burh "fortified place", were occasionally added to Celtic names in the same way. Thus the Romano- British form of Salisbury (Wiltshire) was Sorviodunum. The earliest forms of Salisbury refer to Old Sarum but, when the move to the present town took place, the old name was retained. The meaning of the first element of the Celtic name is unknown, but the second means 'fort'. When the name was borrowed, this second element was repleaced by Old English burh a word having a similar sense, and it has early forms such as Searobyrg and Searesbyrig. the latter is however the one which has survived, but a change of the first r to l took place due to Anglo - Norman influence, hence the modern Salisbury. The present form of Old Sarum itself is due to a mistake. In medieval documents it normally appears in the Latinized form Saresburiensis, often abbreviated. The abbreviation used for -resburiensis was the same as that often used in Latin for -rum."

Kenneth Cameron (1961), English place names, (London, Batsford (1977) p36.

So, could it be from the change in letter in the word and the abbreviation that the Ailsbury emerged from Salisbury? I thought it unlikely, so looked online to find out more about the history of the roads themselves. Ailesbury Close revealed little, Ailesbury Way did in this site.
This simply says "Ailesbury Way , After the Marquis. The spelling is correct in this context".
Now, who was the Marquis of Ailesbury?, well there have been lots of them and they used to own lots of land in and around Burbage, up to 37,993 acres, and taken Marbles from greek temples, (another one of their titles was Earl of Elgin). The Marquesses of Ailesbury got their title from the Earls of Ailesbury, who had their title since 1664, after the Protectorship of Oliver Cromwell, land was re-allocated. Now the important stuff, where did the tile 'of Ailesbury 'come from? Well it turn out it is from Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, like all the others. The original Earl of Ailesbury lived in Ampthill, near Aylesbury. Incidentally the earliest "of Aylesbury" I could find was from 1188, a David de Ailesburi from Lipscomb, (1831) History and Antiquities of the county of Buckingham, Vol 1 p244.
In 1182 he helped with the prison, by repairing it, very helpful chap!
Therefore, the Ailesbury Close of Chippenham and the Ailesbury Way of Burbage are safely Aylesbury, by a different spelling, from the Marquess who used to own the place, who had taken his title from Aylesbury originally. They still have a lot more in relation to Aylesbury than previous Aylesburys, however.

Ailesbury in Chippenham

I woke early and got a lift with Dad to Junction 17 on the M4 motorway and then cycled to Chippenham in the early morning air, fresh, but a little chilly at 15 Mph. Chippenham was just opening up when I arrived, the market stall owners had been ready for hours it seems, but the rest of the shops were setting up for the day.
I headed eastwards towards Calne as I knew that Ailesbury Close was near that junction and accidentally got lost in a housing estate. I got to Monk's Way at the wrong end and eventually found the little beauty that was Ailesbury Close nestled on the right in all its suburban splendour. I cycled up and down it and had a little look around including nearly being run over by one of it's residents. I thought this very inconsiderate from one Aylesburian to another.
My goal for today complete, I then had my most major task to go, get back to Swindon, or more precisely, Wroughton to mett Dad so I could go home.I set off in search of the Chippenham to Calne railway path and could not find it anywhere where it should have been. I even ended up in a game reserve looking for a footpath to get there. I had to resort to a strategy of going along the road until I saw the wonderful bridge spanning above my head and then climbing up the bank to get on the path. Some more signing would have been more convenient, however, once on the path I made rapid progress towards my goal and after going through a sand pit and Quarry I ended up in Wooten Bassett. This town did not live up to its name. I left promptly and got very lost in footpaths, actually ending up in the centre, half an hour after leaving, how rubbish was that! I found the canal footpath which rapidly disappears and left my following a bridle way, (not a bridal way) and ended up in some fields near Wrooughton following a ridgeway the wrong way, totally lost. The Duchess of Cornwall better sort out this path as head of the Canal and Waterways charity in charge of this stretch.
I sat down and read the paper for a bit to get my energy back. This was a disaster, I was out of water, in the middle of nowhere and time was getting on. Luckily a jogger came upon my path and pointed out to me where on the map I was. I realised my error and set about making up for it by crossing the ridgeway as directly as possible and tracking back down the other side on a quick road. I eventually made it to Wroughton, just, at around 1700 and met Dad. The secretary was probably shocked to see a sweaty dehydrated man appear at her desk. I managed to drink 1 Ltr of water in the next 5 minutes and read a bit more of the paper as Dad finished and then went home knackered and went to bed early.

Midsummer Madness

The sun rose on the longest day of the year, the Midsummer solstice, so I had to head somewhere special. Like thousands of others, I set off to Wiltshire to witness something very unique, not the rising of the sun through the key stones at Stonehenge, but my first Ailesbury.
This Ailesbury was in Burbage, near Marlborough, so I got a lift with my Dad to Chiselden near Wroughton, where he works, and made my way southwards via the dismantled railway tracks on my bike.
The morning was fresh, benefitting from some earlier light rain, the sun was shining and I made steady progress towards my goal. One thing did put me off, the copious amount of dog poo all over the path. Owners, please pick up your pooches poo poo. It smells disgusting, it contains parasites which can permanatly blind you. When you walk your dog, just pick the poo up after its doings and the silent majority will thank you. Cycling along sometimes you get stones and mud fly against your legs and back, you have very little way of preventing it, you do not want to smell dog poo there as well. I previously have written on the subject to find a solution. Go here to see. Horse poo is not nearly so bad nor are cow pats, just dogs with their insufferably smell mess from their pampered diet. Owners, if you can't be bothered to pick up the mess and show some social responsibility, teach your dog a new trick, dig the dirt, like a cat does.
I reached Marlborough and turned onto the Burbage Road to make my way through Savernake Forest up the hill.
CRASH!
I came off my bike and hit the road surface at around 10 Mph, luckily my hands and knees acted as excellent brakes, although the skin didn't hold up for very long and I was bleeding in 3 places. I dragged my bike off the road, luckily no car was following close behind, or I would have been even more seriously hurt, and no dog poo was in the offending place or I would have had a chance of being blinded. I lay by the roadside under a tree for a bit as the sickening feeling left me and had a drink. My hands and legs hurt a bit, however I was stuck halfway up a hill in a strange place, so needed to carry on whatever.
I made it through the forest, a bit wobbly, but now more conscious about gear shifting on hills and found Stibb Green and Burbage. The Aztecs used to effectively freeze dry potato as a way of producing marching food that was light and rich in starch and carbohydrate, then rehydated it when out in the field on their campaigns, I made do with crisps. I cycled straight through both villages and thought I'd missed Ailesbury Way. Luckily I stopped at the White Hart and read my map, which showed that Ailesbury Way was the next turn on the left. I looked through the back gate of the pub and thought 'typical, I bet that's it', knowing my sense of direction was a bit off. I went the long way round and found a beautiful road called Ailesbury Way.
There were people returning from shopping, the bins were being collected, (normal and recycling) and life was good. I got my pictures, (every time I take a picture of a sign, there is usually a house behind it, every time I wonder if the person living there minds. This feeling was especially strong as it looked from the state of the house, as if the inhabitant was elderly)

I cycled up to the end of the road and surely enough I saw the pub where I had been 15 minutes ago through the gateway, so went through on my return to Marlborough for some lunch.
What do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?
Still, no Idea?

The centre of Marlborough, where the market used to be is cursed by cars. They surge and scrap for spaces which are sparse and care nothing for cyclists or pedestrians, it is as bad as London. However at the end of the High Street is an island of tranquility, St Peter's church. It divides the torrents of traffic and is a lovely place, an old, now redundant church, the building is used as a shop and cafe and presumably from the lighting rig, for concerts and recitals. A nice man let me park my bike in the porch and I enjoyed some good food, whilst trying to identify the images on the stained glass windows. They had two tablets with the 10 commandments on, a bit bizarre, I always was led to believe the 10 commandments were written on both tablets, one copy for god, one copy for humanity? This one had 1-5 on one and 6-10 on the other. I also found that Thomas Wolsey had come from this church and thought, interesting, I know the name but not the person, so will have research this at a later date.
I cycled through the maelstrom once again until I spotted a very interesting building 'Ailesbury Court'. Another bit of research will have to be done. The ride back to Swindon was uneventful, except this beautiful field of poppies and losing the track, so having to go by road for the final leg.
Once in Swindon, I headed straight to the station to find the third (properly 2nd) Aylesbury of the day and found it to be a one way street of light industry and small 1900's terraced houses with grafitti and some posters.
As it was getting close to 1500 (the time not the year), I decided to watch a World Cup match and found Italy playing and Ghana, USA simultaneously at Walkabout, I then made my way back to Dad's flat to spend the evening watching football as well. Tomorrow will be a lot harder with less rewards, however I can see that such a situation will become more common place.

Aylesbury on a bike

Yesterday, I was at a loose end as to what to do with myself. So I thought, what about a nice cycle ride. I haven't gone cycling for a day before, so didn't know how far I could cycle without knackering myself( a word I once used in a church metting and recieved great disapproval from the older members of the committee). So I chose to cycle down the route of the Metropolitan Line, via Stoke Mandeville, Wendover, Great Missenden and eventually Beaconsfield. Now in Beaconsfield live a great family who I have known for many years and are very kind to me, so when I arrived, I went to their house to see if they were in, luckily Phil was, and despite my sweat drenched state we had a cup of tea, biscuit and a chat about lots of things of life. He is a very busy man, so I left him, realising that he was in the middle of his hectic day. Now, as you may have guessed, Beaconsfield has an Aylesbury. So I thought, why not visit it? A problem as I had no maps to speak of, except a 1:50000 to check my cycle route. I went into a news agents to look for an A-Z of Beaconsfield, however they did not have one. I then decided to utilise the services of an Estate agent, with their knowledge of property and maps. I locked up my bike, went into the nearest estate agents and explained that I was not from the area and was looking round it, (which I was) I was asked if I was buying or renting? (Not really wanting to lie, but seeing that the nice estate agent was wanting to sell me something, or give me something which I then might give them money for) I said that I was looking for houses to rent in the area (which I wasn't) and she gave me a list of properties available to rent and more importantly, a map, most importantly, showing the location of Aylesbury End. So this little deception complete, I cycled off to Aylesbury End.
Aylesbury End, far from being a culdesac or close, is actually, like the East End or South Side, it describes which end of Beaconsfield you are in and the road, is a description of which end of the high street you are, there is also a London End. Ah! Ha! you might say, therefore it is a road going to Aylesbury, and therefore is not applicable to your search. (You probably won't however) I tell you it is not a road that goes to Aylesbury, as like the East End, which is in the middle, Aylesbury End is on the south side of Beaconsfield and therefore a viable target. It used to be the Aylesbury End of the old Beaconsfield, so historically used to be the road to Aylesbury, as the East end used to be the East end of London, however Beaconsfield has grown northwards around the station and therefore is not directly linked to Aylesbury.
No photo unfortunately, as I did not reach a sign post on this road. As an amazing coincidence, Fiona then called to me from her car as her and Helen were returning from Kew Botanical Gardens. She was amazed to see me in Beaconsfield as I was to be beckoned from the road. Being very kind, they invited me off to their house again, the second time in a day and generously offered me lunch and caught up on lots of bits of family news and discussed cycling expeditions past and future.
I set off for home via Penn to avoid the hills of the Amersham bypass and go via a more country side route. Although did end up on the Wendover bypass which has cars rocketing down it at around 100 Mph which was a bit hairy. Below see a photo of a little chick I found in the road and escorted to the side to avoid it being run over.

This was the closest Aylesbury so far and the cheapest one to visit. I brings my average Km per Aylesbury to 107. Perhaps in the future it might be a good way of visiting more Aylesburys.

Bletchley's Aylesbury

The breaking of the enigma code, and this road are the two most important things about Bletchley. This beautiful village was centre of British code breaking activities during World War Two, an incredible achievement by the men and women who worked under absolute secrecy, helping to shorten the war and save us from a terrible future.
Today was my driving theory test, at which I was late arriving because of the dodgy directions from an internet mapping site. All was well, as the lady at the desk allowed me to sit the test, which I thankfully passed with full marks on the multiple choice and 56/75 on the hazard awareness. After this, I then drove to Aylesbury Street, the first Aylesbury not reached by me on public transport, hopefully not a trend that will continue, according to Mr Prescot.















Aylesbury street is a lovely busy high street with many specialist shops, not the usual recycled comic strip version of high streets that you see in most towns, (Smiths, M+S, McDonalds, Specsavers, Smiths, M+S, McDonalds, Specsavers, Smiths, M+S, McDonalds, Specsavers) instead it had shops like a fancy dress shop, a florists, a fish bar, a celebrations shop, a chiropractors, etc. like older high streets used to have. I have looked at some older maps and have discovered that Aylesbury Street is the old street that went to Aylesbury, so still counts in my list of Aylesburys and is directly related to Aylesbury, but does not go there anymore. Just did a little drive up and down the street and then left to get home as mum and I were hungry.

Aylesburys of Steel

So far this hunt for Aylesburys has been quite lonely adventure. I have not thought of this hunt as a social thing except among my fellow Aylesburians. However, this foray was different, it started as a social trip to Sheffield to see my old friends from University, however became an Aylesbury trip all the same. Which is why you are reading this. Diaries, why do people think they have such lives that they need to write all events down? Surely a diary, such as this collects memories from exceptional (those that are not normal rather than those which are excellent) actions rather than the mundanities of everyday life.
As per usual my journey began at Aylesbury station, well technically it started from home, however nothing notable happened on that leg of it, you see my point. The barriers were playing up and Albert the kind station cleaner and general helpful chap said hello to me as the barriers closed on my bag, trapping me in them until I was freed again by Phil. What a welcome!
On the train from Birmingham to Sheffield I was sitting in the quiet coach of the many branded coaches of Virgin trains, (the non reserved coach, the business coach, the football coach) A man was sitting opposite me on the other side of the aisle and he kept getting text messages every 2-3 minutes in the annoying way that people, including myself, sometimes do when a phone call would have been more appropriate. The announcement which precipitated each text was very high pitched, very loud and in a most distasteful tune. Not wishing to be the almost silent majority on this issue, this also annoys me is that others obviously tut and hiss, ruffle their newspapers but do nothing, I asked politely whether he wouldn't mind turning his phone to silent, only to be ignored. I asked again, in a slightly more agitated manner. I was then that this man's wife/girlfriend and daughter came back and I then understood the reason for this man's lack of regard to his fellow passengers, he was deaf.
I wished I could have had the ground swallow me up. I wish I had been understanding and should have apologised and made peace, however my cowardice over took me and I copied those ostriches around me and buried my head in my newspaper. So may I take this opportunity to apologise now and I now entirely understand why you were not making a phone call also. Whoops!
This incident also reminds me of another time when travelling on a plane back from Fuertaventura when a buffet trolley veered into the arm of a seat infront of me. I made a joke about being able to sue the company for injury. The lady infront turned round and I saw to my horror, a sling on her left arm. Too late, I found that individual ejector seats are not fitted in passenger aircraft. Luckily she was very pleasant and I think I managed to apologise and show concern for her distress, as she was on pain killers and didn't really know whether she should be flying at all.
On arrival in Sheffield I made my way to Meadowhell, a gargantuan shopping centre on the outskirts of Sheffield, whose prescence has sapped some of the vitality of the town centre from its former self, leaving it filled with pubs and charity shops. Between this and the gas plant are two very important places, Aylesbury Court and Aylesbury Crescent. Aylesbury Court is a number of flats, predominantly for older people and has a stunning view into Sheffield and the peaks beyond.

Aylesbury Crescent has great views of Aylesbury Court but gets the rooftop version of the former's views as well and had the largest number of people washing their cars I have ever seen outside of a carwash, 5.

Incidentally both look on two large cooling towers, which the council has been working out what to do with. My suggestion is below.

The rest of the week passed most enjoyably, meeting lots of old friends and haunting old haunts and seeing what had changed and what had not. Eating lots of delicious bakery products from a new cult which seems to have formed in Fir Street and also top-notch French pate on toast at 0400 was a good laugh.

Aylesburies, Damned Aylesburys and statistics.

Unfortunately my totals were not raised this week and so my number of Aylesburys visited remains at 5. I was wondering, however, what is the actual plural of Aylesbury?
It is possible to have a flock of Aylesbury ducks, shortened to Aylesburys or Aylesburies, depending on the website you look at. I decided to search this problem out and decide democratically which term to use. Language evolves over time, based on precidents and norms, so I was not ready to break this tradition by selecting a plural at random. Many words can become candidates of the plural for Aylesbury. Aylesburys, because it is the simple adding of an S to a proper noun to pluralise it. Aylesburies could be seen as a worthy candidate as well, like 'berry', taking off the y and adding -ies would also be a logical progression of the word. Aylesburi is also an unlikely candidate, pluralising in a rare english manner. You will see in the graphs below, my other guesses as to what Aylesbury pluralised actually should be. Put simply all I had to do was enter each word into google and find out how many hits each search returned.
The graph that emerged was this.

A conclusive victory for Aylesburys, you might think. However, what about all the possessive forms of this word? "Aylesburys town council" typed by lazy people including Bucks' County Council who out the apostophe. What about all the slovenly people who merge the words, 'Aylesbury' and 'is' to make "aylesburys, like, rubbish"? (also missing the important capital of a proper noun, tut, tut) I then went through and sifted out all these wasted words to make an adjusted graph.

The result is not as conclusive as the first, however I think it can be safely said that "Aylesburys" is the most used and therefore could be seen to be the most grammatically correct plural form of the word that is Aylesbury. Therefore I shall use it in later posts.

A hat trick

Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. This sentiment, first expressed by my rather authoritarian, ineffectual and dictatorial physics teacher is one I wish I had taken heed of before going on my first foray. I actually tried to reach the Aylesbury Close nearest to Stratford station on the first time I went into London. I thought that the map showed it being directly off the main road; hence I spent a long time traversing it to no avail. Actually it is a small cul-de-sac off a road called Atherton Road. I also missed the Neasden Aylesbury by taking the wrong dual carriageway. A tiring and time consuming mistake.
Enough reflection for now. Today was even better from the planning in having maps printed so I could more easily find the Aylesburys and have a better judgement of distance.
Before my travel I bought a paper, I had learnt before of the worries that happen to an unoccupied mind. As I was unlocking my bike from the news agents bike rack, a man asked me where the Civic Centre was. I pointed to the large archway dominating the bottom of the Market Square, from which hung a sizeable sign, readable from the top of the market square, saying CIVIC CENTRE and pointed him in that direction, as an educated guess. I thought he might be interested in helpful trivia, “they used to hang people from there” I said. I hope he got the message.
Because of this blind tourist, I got to the station late. Having missed the 1140 train, my day picked up straight away, as I met Mark and Henry on the barrier and after having a cup of coffee with them and Phil, I was back in a good frame of mind for the day ahead.
Engineering works, unlike diamonds, are not a girl’s best friend. I soon found myself helping a lady with her great granddaughter who had been staying with her daughter to give her granddaughter a rest for the Friday night. I found out her daughters were Aylesburians but her grand daughter wasn’t, neither was the great grand daughter, but that did not matter, we soon became friends. My original plan was to go to Neasden first, as the engineering works meant that I had to get the Metropolitan line to Moor Street anyway and Neasden is the next station along on the Jubilee line. I quickly abandoned those plans and got the tube with the lady, helping her with the push chair to Baker Street, where I left her waiting to be picked up and went on my way to Stratford.
Now with the handy map I had printed, finding Aylesbury close was easy as pie and I quickly saw that it had seen better days. The trees were in blossom, covering two wrecked cars and an al fresco mattress or two. There were 28 flats and two broken windows. Either a wild party of reckless abandon had happened, or a landlord was not fulfilling their obligations. As I left, three footballers eyed me with suspicion, I smiled, as fellow Aylesburians, they deserved some pleasantness, and then they looked at me with disdain, so I carried on a bit quicker in my step.

I decided that this success deserved something new, so I went to the new Aylesbury in London, near the Barbican Tube station, which was shut for engineering works. Obviously engineering works are like diamonds in another aspect, the result is beautiful, however gaining them is an inconvenient and expensive experience. Having a map of the area did not help one iota, when you are not within the boundaries of the map. This took me nearly an hour but eventually I spied a bus stop with a notable name and the street to go with it. Aylesbury Street is interesting for two reasons. It is the 1st Aylesbury I have visited with no one living on it, being mainly offices and factory floors. Also it is in two boroughs, Islington and Finsbury.

Being slightly damp and tired, I went into a Belgian pub, run by Australians, containing mostly Americans, where, as it claimed on the on the sign outside, the staff offered me a friendly welcome. Having lost moisture externally and gained some internally, I headed for my Hat trick, Neasden. On my way, Old Street Tube Station has a spiral staircase going down to the Northern line. I recommend going down it as a real reflection on how far down the tubes really are. One hundred steps is a long way down.
Aylesbury Street in Neasden is easy to find with the help of a map and is peculiar as it has two houses, repeated a lot, as if the people living there have two tastes, 19th Century terrace and 1990’s semi. Well what can I say, 78 houses and my Hat trick was complete, I suspect that that this is the end of the easy Aylesburys, like shooting fish in a barrel, when its a small barrel, when the fish are very large, when the gun you are using is a howitzer with 115mm shells and LASER sights. The rest wil be harder to reach and find.

A brace of Aylesburys

Well today I took the plunge, I went off to find some Aylesburys, (or Aylesburies, or Aylesburi we will have to work on this). I had spent the weekend feeling rubbish. Not literally feeling rubbish, I had a bin by my bed for a reason, and that reason was not to run my fingers caressingly through its contents. So today was Bank Holiday Monday and I had the choice of looking at a stately home in a place not called Aylesbury or going off to find some Aylesbury. Seeing as I can get to London for free and London contains quite a lot of Aylesburys I decided that this would be my best option to start with, rather than the one in Canada, which would mean that I wouldn't be back in time for work tomorrow.
I caught the train after saying hello to the booking office clerks in Aylesbury station, Mark and Phil (in their correct alphabetical order) and settled down to the journey. A nagging feeling came over me, What will I say to people when they ask what I am doing? What shall I do when I get there?
I also fell uneasy at this staggering new wind of change, watching the plastic hanging baskets not empty their contents over the station concourse. This was a new era, and I could feel it coming.
Whilst on the train I had a thought that would double the capacity of Britain's railways, run trains on two wheels instead of 4. Then you could have twice as many trains going up and down the lines.
Having solved the UK's transport problems I arrived in Marylebone and headed straight for the tube. and went to Bromley South Station, round a couple of corners and to the great sight infront of me.

The sun was shining and if there was no fanfare, there should have been, the birds around did a good job anyway. I was delighted, what a beautiful street! I had a little walk down it and had a look round. There were two children trying to get a football from underneath a car, parked next to two signs, NO PARKING and NO BALLGAMES. There are 48 numbers on Aylesbury Road, however it is much bigger, comprising another set of houses along its length and a school, St Marks, which incidentally is the same name of a school in Aylesbury, (Bucks). I was so happy.
My antics caught the attention of some builders and they asked me if I was looking for a particular number, here was the crunch moment. No I said I was just looking for the street. They passed the comment off without a moment's thought, obviously a pair of intelligent builders who understood what I was doing and knew that is what they should be doing as well.
Having found this Aylesbury, I traveled to Elephant and Castle on the hunt for my next sighting. This was a slightly rougher area of London, but was interesting to see all the same. Lots of different people and shops. I went through Liverpool Grove and then Burton Grove and found myself my next sighting. It was beautiful, the housing around that area had a feeling of great community and care, especially with the blossom on the trees and Aylesbury Road Southwark seems to be no exception.

The erroneous visitors, except for myself, obviously, were two political party members cold-calling the street to see if they could swing any votes, who eyed me with suspicion as I strolled along, people who are suspicious of the prescence of others, obvously must be doing something shifty. I found at the end of the road, a public house, now made private, The Queen Anne and a Chippy. Aylesbury road is on the very boundary of two housing areas, as I have said already, the lovely 1900 ish houses and huge 1960s tower blocks which block the sky line and you can see in the background of the photo. There were 74 houses on this street and, although in surroundings which don't feel too safe, I think was a most pleasant place.
So all in all I went home very happy.

Aylesbury Search

For a while at university and after, I conducted a search for the colonial past of the name, "Aylesbury". Famous settlements in 'the new world' often took names from settlements in the old world, where the settlers could take away a piece of home to their new land. For example the Dutch settlers that settled at the mouth of the Hudson river called their new settlement New Amsterdam. A while later after the British became dominant in the area, from general scheming politics, they renamed it New York, a name which you may recognise.
Before my seach, my proposition was this: If settlements in the 'new world' bore the name Aylesbury, it was almost certainly going to refer to the town of Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire. Firstly because the place is not descriptive of its location, e.g. Springfield, literally a sping in a field, a common American place name, so any towns called Aylesbury must have routes from the place Aylesbury.
Secondly Aylesbury is not a device, commodity, or a brand, or was not, now it is. A brand named after the original town to evoke something about it's nature. Therefore the places named Aylesbury cannot be named after the brand.
Thirdly, Aylesbury is a merge of Saxon and medieval english. Ayles or egels place, literally. Therefore it is in a unique position in that it is a name transformed by languages only Britain has. egels' place in Scandanavia and Northern Europe would not now have the name Aylesbury.
Therefore my search is on for informantion pertaining to the whereabouts of Aylesburys around the world.
These are some I know about:
Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire.
Aylesbury estate in London.
Aylesbury in Saskwatchen Canada, nr Moose Jaw.
Aylesbury Way,Wellington, New Zealand
Aylesbury, New Zealand, North Island
Aylesbury Ice Cream, made by Parmalat in South Africa.
West and East Aylesbury Road in Timonium, Maryland, USA.
Aylesbury Plantation located 35 miles east of Tallahassee, Florida.
If you have any information pertaining to these places, or objects, live in any of these places or know of any Aylesburys that I have missed, please leave a comment or Email me at aylesburys@gmail.com . We can then build a picture of what Aylesbury around the world looks like.