Category Archives: Lancashire

The Iron Men

Julia took this picture by photographing the information board at the beach – I hope we will be forgiven for using it, as we are, to be fair, publicising the sculptures.

Just in case you don’t recognise the statues, they are part of Another Place by Antony Gormley.

 

The summary, in case you don’t want to read the links is that the bloke who did the Angel of the North also did 100 identical cast iron statues which are now spread over the beach at Crosby, near Liverpool in an area 3,000 metres by 1,000 metres. It spreads them out quite a bit and means you can’t get groups of them in one shot. For me it dispels the impact, but, to be fair, I’m not an artist and know nothing of these things.

I do like the barnacles and other growth, which Julia caught well in the second photo, but was too lazy to walk down the beach to take my own shot.

If you decide to visit, ignore the postcode listed on one of the review sites – L23 6SX. It takes you to a free car park with no facilities and though it’s one end of the installation I’m not sure it’s the better end, unless you like a lot of walking along a treacherous beach. There are various suggestions on how to stay safe, which suggest on not walking too far out.

We saw brown signs in Cosby, ignored them in favour of the satnav then, after finding the first car park, returned to them. I think the correct postcode is L23 8SY.

 

The second car park had catering vans, a lifeboat station and some excellent toilets, though they were 40p  I’m of an age where toilets are a good thing to have, but 40p is eight shillings, which is a lot of money. There were also lots of starlings about, sheltering in the lee of the parked cars, as you can see from the photos. Starlings seemed to be everywhere we went on the coast from Cosby to Barrow-in-Furness.

 

 

 

Clitheroe and Family History

We went to Slaidburn on Monday, taking the tree picture on the way. It’s a fascinating old village, which wouldn’t look out of place in a Harry Potter film (or a Hammer House of Horror film for those of us who remember them).

I’ll be writing about that visit in a couple of days.

Then we went to Clitheroe. It’s a pleasant small town not far from Pendle Hill, and it has cropped up a few times in recent posts, mainly as a residence for various members of my family. I used to enjoy visiting it when I was a child, though I have to say that I never noticed how hilly it was when I was younger.

It was a dullish day so I had a go with the effects on my computer – not sure if it’s worked or not. One of my early memories is of visiting the war memorial with my grandmother and being shown her father’s name on the side.

 

Like so many others he’s just a name on a memorial now, I doubt if anyone who knew him is alive now.

These are various homes of the Carus family over the years. The one with the red car is where my grandmother was living with her widowed mother in 1917, and may be the one where the family photo was taken. The view of the castle is the one they would have seen when they stepped outside.

Harry Carus and family. Clitheroe 1915.

Harry Carus and family -1915

The house with the silver car outside is the one where all the family lived in the late 19th century – all nine of them!

The other one, with the box balls in the front garden, is where Isaac Newton Carus lived, before handing it on to one of his sons.

I have a lot more to do, so this is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s a strange feeling, seeing all these places where family used to live, particularly as I must have passed within 100 yards of one of them dozens of times without realising.

Another Day Away

We stayed in Skipton last night and spent the day doing some Family History photography.  The day was bright in patches, but by the middle of the afternoon, when we were at Clitheroe Castle, it was rather dark.

The trees in the main photo were an early find, while the sun was managing to break through.

The others are slightly less than sharp, but seemed too good not to use. Julia spotted the squirrel going through the bins as we left the castle.

There will be more on this trip later, but first I want to stick my feet up and have a cup of tea.