Yesterday I went to Arlesey. For those who don’t know where it is, Arlesey is a town in Bedfordshire between Biggleswade and Hitchin on the East Coast Main Line, whose passengers often misconstrue its name in passing. It is also strange.
It is a strange shape. It is hard to get on a detailed Streetmap map because it is so long and thin, and on the first part of my walk from the station at the far north it reminded me of Sandy but strung out in a thread. It seems in many ways to be like London: an ecclesiatical centre (i.e. Westminster, or the north end) seperate from the main part (i.e. the City, or the south end). Unfortunately the equivalent of a Strand or Charing Cross to bring them together seems to be lacking: After leaving Church Lane at the junction with the war memorial, there is a sign confidently saying High Street. As I was looking for a café or similar at the time this sounded hopeful. Instead, the road turned into countryside on both sides for some time. It was only when I had re-entered a built-up area that there was a sign saying that I had now entered Arlesey. I wondered where I had been for the last 20 minutes. There was no café although plenty of OK looking pubs. I saw one shop.
The highlight of my trip was the house painted in England colours. The front of the terraced house is painted white with a red stripe along the middle; the front door has a complete cross of St George on it. This is bad enough, but the side of the house has a huge St George’s cross on it with the word “Robbed” written in white along the horizontal red stripe thus: Robbed . The questions of Why?, What has it done to local house prices?, and Why has no-one lynched them yet? are too much to go into here but may be partially answered by the greater than normal prevalence (even by Bedfordshire standards!) of St George flags around the town generally.
For the train back, as I had a pushchair with me, I thought I’d try the disabled access rather than haul the toddler and various accessories over the footbridge. Next time I will haul the toddler and various accessories over the footbridge. To use the disabled access on the northbound platform requires walking over the new roadbridge and down the other side a considerable distance (300 yards?), then doubling back down a slip road back to the station. You need to get down a curb to get from the path to the sliproad, then brave the traffic as there is no separate footpath to the platform. I would dearly love to see someone in a wheelchair make the journey. Admittedly, it is meant for people getting there by car and technically they can say that there is level access, but I think they are missing the point, especially for those with pushchairs, shopping trolleys, etc.
Odd. Despite having lived near it for two decades, I’m not sure that I’ve ever actually been to Arlesey.
I’m not clear who was robbed and what was robbed from them, either. I’d like to believe that it’s a reference to the European Championship, but I do have this sneaking feeling that it’s something altogether less palatable and more xenophobic.
On disabled accesses: yep, that’s pretty much how it works. Not sure how to solve this without the Disabled Access Police checking everything all the time, though.
Yes, apparently the Robbed was put on after England were knocked out. What gets me is that I just couldn’t be arsed to do something like that. Then again, there isn’t much else to do in Arlesey I suppose.
It is down to losing at football, there are no other “hidden” meanings. What a joke!
I quite understand why people are not inclined to visit Arlesey, and those who do are perplexed with its layout and lack of…well…STUFF. Even the former Three Counties Asylum whose presence blighted the town for over a century has now been shifted to a Stotfold (quaint neighbour) address now it has been turned into exclusive flats. Arlesey remains a haven for unfortunate deaths, whether in the Lagoon, or on the railtracks. Still, when the next flurry of housing development begins, we can at least be grateful that our nice green fields will be filled with more people to stretch the meagre amenities, and their cars will congest our (only) main road. Arlesey is a forgotten town; and although the house with the flag (often repainted with different designs!) is nothing more than another eyesore here, the current “Robbed” message strikes a chord with many residents who interpret it as something other than a football reference.