I sent the balance of £3000 to Rol Cruise and also booked the 3 day trip to Mumbai, Agra (for the Taj Mahal) and Kerala. I believe that will be a popular one, so I had better get my booking in early.
Another day to myself. I'm being spoilt. Now that from last week the Elizabeth Line has a service straight through from Reading to Abbey Wood and Shenfield, and all of that accessible to me for free on my London Freedom Pass, I decided to try the libne for a visit to Reading. Once again I parked for free at the Ealing Broadway Shopping Centre, as they are still rebuilding one of the exits, and jumped on a train to Reading at Ealing Broadway. The Elizabeth Line is so sleek, silent and smooth as it purrs along the track, you hardly notice the time passing, especially if you're immersded in a newspaper. Within 45 minutes I was at Reading Central station.
What should I do, or see, in Reading? Well, I was determined to wander around a shopping centre and to have a meal there, but I had no idea what to visit. When I got to the station I looked for a map of the town. There was no map available at the WH Smith store, no map available at the otherwise well stocked Waterstones, and no map of Reading at any vantage point in the street. The only map outside the station showed where you could catch various buses, but it did not give a clue as to where these buses were going. I was reduced to referring to Uncle Google for my information on where to shop, what to view and to find an appropriate map. I felt it was some kind of conspiracy by the local town council to ensure that no stray tourists should end up in the streets of Reading. It made me equally determined to continue my search.
Luckily the town centre seemed to be near the station, so I did not need a bus. I wandered past the initial redbrick Victorian buildings in the surrounding streets and soon chanced on a pedestrianized thoroughfare, brimming with traditional high street shops and banks and leading to the Broad Street Shopping Mall. Now that was a disappointment. They claim that this was the original shopping gallery in Reading, but unfortunately nearly a third of the potential retail premises were empty. I settled in a pleasant cafe, called Boswell's, for a coffee and a delightful raspberry cheesecake,and took stock.
Closer study on my phone revealed that the alternative end of Broad Street came to the town hall behind which were some abbey ruins. It was strange that the presence of this apparently ancient abbey was being kept a secret by the council. Eventually I reached the town hall, a sprawling but pleasant building, alongside a medieval church. Again no clue as to the whereabouts of the abbey site, so I wandered around the north side of the town hall and suddenly came across a small but delightful park called Forbury Gardens. It was dominated on one side by a mound with a seating area around a majestic plane tree.
On the other side there was an uncharasteristic black statue of a gigantic lion, twice or even three times the size of a real lion. Of course you can get statues of lions in England as support figures for large monuments, as, say, in Trafalgar Square, but to see them just so isolated and so outsized fired my curiosity. I walked up close and found it was a war memorial listing several hundred soldiers from the Berkshire regiment killed in the Afghan Wars. It was dated 1886 (the date was in Roman numerals). I noticed that, unlike the Great War memorials, the officers were kept separate from the non-commissioned officers, who in turn were listed separately from the privates. Not very egalitarian, you might think. However, I was always under the impression that listing all soldiers, including privates, who died in battle, started at the end of World War One. Previously only the top officers were honoured and buried. The rest were gathered in a heap, stripped and transformed into fertilizer and soap, as happened after Waterloo. Yet this was an earlier example, and deserves merit for all that. The Berkshire Regiment suffered massive losses at the Battle of Maiwand in 1880, one of Britain's worst military disasters in her numerous colonial wars. All part of the Great Game, and in fact Kipling wrote a poem about it, but it must have been little consolation to the families of those soldiers from Reading and the surrounding countryside who perished for God knows what purpose, in the savage Afghan mountains.
And then a revelation! At the far corner of Forbury Gardens was a half hidden tunnel with an information board outside it stating in bold letters "You've Found the Abbey Ruins". Yes, I had found the secret entrance to the Abbey ruins, and with no thanks to Reading Council! I have never seen a British town before so secretive about its treasures. Yet I had taken up the challenge and found the secret walled garden. The ruins were indeed wondrous. There was a stillness and silence that blocked out noise from surrounding traffic. The building had been pulled down by King Charles I during the Civil War to prevent the Roundheads from using it as a fortress. However, the remaining 12th century walls and arches retained their majesty and their mystery. Reading Abbey had an important history as it was the site of the coronation and later the burial of King Henry I, son of the Conqueror. In fact, the Abbey and its surroundings had been well served by kings that were called Henry. Henry I founded the abbey and was buried here, Henry II attended the official opening of the abbey, and Henry III gave Reading a royal charter. But Henry VIII was not so helpful. He closed down the abbey, and executed the last abbot.
I sneaked round the back of the Abbey Gardens, and came out onto the River Kennet, and then wandered back around the Victorian prison building to rejoin the centre of town and have a meal. Hold on a second? Did I say the prison building in Reading? Of course, we have the "Ballad of Reading Gaol", where poor Oscar Wilde had such a miserable time. And who says there is nothing to visit in Reading? Reading Council, please note.
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