The Corn Exchange

The corn exchange, on Tuesday Market Place, was built in in 1854 with a fine baroque style façade featuring the town's  crest (below) and topped off with a statue of Ceres or Demeter with a sickle and a bundle of corn (below, below). As I was on an very short stay I had no time to go inside and see the transformation into theatre/cinema community arty place along with compulsory coffee shop.

The crest of King's Lynn features three dragons regurgitating a cross. This is an allusion to the story of the town's patron saint, St Margaret of Antioch, who, as was the custom in those days, was swallowed by a dragon but as she was so holy she was indigestible (holy types often are I find) and so was chucked up to use the vernacular. Atop all this nonsense stands a pelican in her piety. This crest appears all over the town in various guises.

The Victorians, in their pursuit of profit in the exchange, seem to have had no qualms about mixing Christian symbolism with pagan idolatry so why should we?

The Globe Hotel

Seemingly not shrugging at all old Atlas is still carrying the world on his shoulders. Like the witch's heart Atlas is one of those little things to look out for in King's Lynn. He adorns the Globe Hotel at the junction of King Street and Ferry Street forming a corner of Tuesday Market Place. This is yet another merchant's town house from the early 18th century turned into a hotel. As with the Duke's Head it has been much altered and extended. It is also another of the wannabe designs of Henry Bell though many doubt it. And like the DH the Globe is also haunted, this time with a 'Chill' associated with a murder in the stables many years ago ... or maybe they should just fix the windows.

The Duke's Head Hotel in Blue

Here's the Duke's Head also on Tuesday Market Place. Now memory is a funny old thing but I distinctly remember this place being pink so a rummage through the dusty depths of Google brought forth a confirmation that back in the late 1970s this was indeed a hideous pink confection, you can see for yourself here. I'm not so sure that the blue is much of an improvement; but as I don't live here I don't have to look at it. The building was the house of a local merchant and MP and built in 1683 supposedly to a design by Henry Bell, he of the Customs House (but the Grade 2 listing doubts this attribution). It has been much altered and added to since then having been a bank at one stage. Being built on the site of a much older hotel and being in King's Lynn it is of course reputedly haunted by spectres from its long past.

The Witch's Heart

Here is the tale as told to me by reliable and truthful sources who had themselves heard it from equally fine and upstanding folk who ... well you get the idea. Now many years ago, in the 16th century, to be precise 1590, seems as good a year as any, a young woman by the name of Margaret Read was charged with being a witch and sentenced to be burned in the Tuesday Market Place. She must have been a proper witch as burning was three times dearer than a good hanging by the South Gates. Now Margaret didn't think this burning was such a good idea as she had the strange notion that she wasn't a witch at all. So she prophesied that if she was innocent her heart would leap from her body and strike this building and the first person to leave through the doorway would die instantly. Now the good folk of Lynn weren't too impressed by this and weren't going to waste a good pile of wood, (they'd baked cakes and had ale, for a good witch burning was a merry sight) so they went ahead and gave her the full 180°C for twenty minutes per 500g plus twenty minutes at the end. So anyhow you can see how this is tending. As she slowly roasted her heart leapt out across the market place struck this building and then merrily bounced off towards the river and with a splash was never seen again. Whether young Margaret was heard to say " I told you so" was not recorded but just to be sure that no-one forgot her warning the doorway was blocked up and a witch's heart crudely carved into the wall. So now you have my story you can pass it on to others, every word is true I tell you, as true as my name is William Braquemard.

St Nicholas Chapel of Ease

Approaching King's Lynn along the A17 you know you're nearly there when you can see the spire of St Nicholas chapel and the twin towers of St Margaret's on the horizon. (There's also a old concrete silo but that's not quite so attractive). St Nicholas chapel was built as a chapel of ease for the rich merchants and fisher folk of north Lynn as St Margaret's was too small to hold everybody and a bit of walk across town and you don't want to get your Sunday best dirtied by medieval squalor now do you? The building is mainly 15th century with some earlier bits. The lead spire dates from 1869 and is by our good friend Sir Gilbert Scott replacing a wooden one destroyed in the 18th century. (Sir Gilbert seems to have renovated every old church in the country) St Nick's is open to the public but we got there too early so we'll have to come back here later to see a surprising literary connection with Hull and angelic musicians.

The Exorcist's House

Tucked away on Chapel Lane and forming the boundary of St Nicholas chapel is this quaint little house built in 1635 according to all the books and a date on the gable. It seems it replaced an even older building, the supposed one time residence of King's Lynn's very own exorcist and somehow the connection has lasted to this day. (As with so much that is old and passed down it best taken with strong cup of unsweetened scepticism). It is a Grade 2 listed construction with a fine example of an early Dutch gable. Behind it lies an example of what the heir to the throne would no-doubt call a carbuncle, so hideous that I refuse to photograph it. Let us just say that the modern jars with the ancient in a most unpleasant way.

F R Buckley a one time actor, playwright and "Swashbuckling" author of many stories lived here from the 1950's 'til the mid 70s. The house is reputedly haunted by his wife (his second wife, the first having committed suicide in 1931) and there are other tales of mystery surrounding this guy who claimed to be a wizard (hmmm) and also that he was an expert on the occult who advised the local police (hmmm x2). Margot once met him at his house back in the early 70's, she says she went to get his autograph, anyhow he was quite a nice old man as she recalls but then she does have strange tastes in men.

Good King John

OK so King John lost the Duchy of Normandy and other bits of France to the French king, and he caused the decline and fall of the Angevin Empire. He was so weak the mighty barons forced him into signing that wretched Magna Carta. Then he went and lost his treasure while crossing the marshes just before dying of dysentery leaving the country in a civil war. And in all children's history books and especially in that ongoing saga Robin Hood he is made out to be a bad guy scheming to get the crown while his handsome, brave, do-no-wrong brother Richard (he of the Lionheart) ponced around on crusades and caused mayhem where ever he sat down. Well all that counts for nothing in King's Lynn. King John is the king who granted the town a charter in 1204 which was the making of the place. And in Lynn, if in no other town in England, King John is very much the Good Guy.

This statue is in New Conduit Street.

And, as a footnote, if you are thinking King's Lynn is named after King John then think again. The charter was given to the town of Bishop's Lynn as in those days the Bishop of Norwich owned the place. If Henry VIII had managed to sire a male heir from his first wife the place might still be called Bishop's Lynn. But in the event he didn't and in his nationalisation of the Catholic church he took possession of the town and so it became King's Lynn in 1537.

The Purfleet, Customs House and Vancouver

Turning our backs to the river we come across what is now a little tourist attraction but was once a medieval harbour of sorts. This is the Purfleet, the old, and I do mean very old northern boundary of the town. I remember it being run down and seedy little car park back in the late 1970's when I first came to Lynn but it's been spruced up. The Customs House has been renovated and is now a Tourist Information office with a small museum upstairs (see below). Outside there's a statue of local lad Captain George Vancouver after whom the local shopping centre and a bit of Canada are named.

The Customs House was built in 1683 as both a merchants exchange and Customs office. By this time though Lynn as a port was in a bit of a decline with more and more shipping going through that evil place up north called Hull.

The bewigged person with his oh so subtle rod and dangling tassles is Charles II.

This is the Long Room upstairs in the Customs House.

This is to let us know who is in charge.

Some tools of the Customs trade

I was tempted by this long case clock but I really can't find the room for it at home ...

The pink bag is Margot's

In medieval times King's Lynn was in the Hanseatic league hence the models of Hanse vessels in the Long Room.

PS. I almost forgot this area appeared in a film, Revolution, starring (if that's the word) Al Pacino, Donald Sutherland and Nastassja Kinski  with King Street and the Customs House pretending to be New York. If you haven't heard of it that's probably because it was a monumental flop at the box office. Here's a snippet from You Tube.

"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Hull anymore..."

The Great Ouse

Due to circumstances that need not concern you we, that is Margot and myself, found ourselves in Margot's birth town, King's Lynn in good old Norfolk. So in the 24 hours or so that we were there we played the dutiful tourist and shot a shed load of photos while Margot caught up with friends she hadn't seen in over forty years. Over the next few days I'll post the best ones here. I'm starting with the river because without the river there would be no King's Lynn. This is the Great Ouse which flows northwards from Bedford up into the Wash. There is a Little Ouse apparently which runs into the Great and also another Ouse in York and one in Sussex that flows into the Channel. There may be other Ouses, it's a popular name for a river.

West Lynn

Looking north towards the Wash

We're all going on a summer holiday ...

As this blog has become ever more fitful and sporadic I think it may best to put it to rest for a while. Smell you later ...

City Daily Photo's monthly theme is all about me, no not me, Me.

An Ugly Duckling

Well here's a rare sighting. What a mute swan? Rare? Well yes when it's in Pearson Park duck pond. In thirty odd years I've only seen about three swans in this postage stamp sized watering hole. I suppose all the trees and bushes must make landing and take off a difficulty plus I'm told it needs a good sixty yards to get really airborne and clear of obstacles. This one still had some brownish plumage suggesting it's a young bird and so was unaware of the perils of Pearson Park.

And while on an avian theme; the regular summer visiting swifts that should be here by now have failed to appear. Across England sightings are down by as much as 25%.  The globe, it seems, isn't working any more. The blue skies are a very dull and sterile place without them.

Death Fetish

After the first death, there is no other.

So here we have the latest alleged memorial to folk who died in unfortunate circumstances; this time it's death by bombs falling on their houses during the last European Civil War or WW2 as you may call it. It's an odd thing when all said and done and covered with the names of those who died over the years as Hull was just a dumping ground for bombers going home. There's a litany of woes behind all this and it's true that 95% of Hull houses were damaged in some way during the conflict and you can still see gaps in terraces that have not been filled in not to mention the cinema on Beverley Road that still awaits demolition. But the dead were buried seventy or more years ago and their graves are well known. So why now this desire to pick at old wounds, to 'honour' the dead? Who now, living, is benefiting from this visual abomination? Well this vile object was paid for by public subscription, organised by the Hull People's Memorial, an organisation devoted to reminding folk how people died in war and don't you ever dare to forget that Hull was bombed more than any other place than London or Malta; who claims that Hull's memory is fading this despite their being no fewer than 46 memorials listed on their website. And if we forget they would, no doubt,  cease to have a purpose in their lives. I choose to forget.

Knitting Bee

The neighbourhood knitters of Newland Avenue have been at it again this time on the theme of bees. I wouldn't fancy being stung by a brute this size. Any hoo, it's World Bee Day today so I guess this fits in with all that. I'll buzz off now.

Lots Of Love

Someone clearly needed to write a quick memo to remind themselves of the meaning of this ubiquitous acronym and I think we can admire the almost Chaucerian spelling. It may, for all we know, have been the former Prime Minister, Mr Cameron, who thought LOL meant Lots of Love, no seriously he did ...

May Day brings a new theme: "Laugh" to the City Daily Photo folk why not go on over there and crack your face...

Fritillaria imperialis

Or Crown Imperial Fritillary ... it's a native of Turkey, western Iran and Kashmir so I'm told. It doesn't seem to mind the grounds of Hull University that much.

Margot took this little beauty.

Oblique Cut Through

The walls of this old outhouse run not at right angles to the street it's on but to the road behind giving an odd effect. This is Duesberry Street, not the sort place an innocent visitor to Hull would or should wander down by choice; it once led to a railway line that's now a foot/cyclepath. It's a short cut through to Beverley Road from Princes Avenue, the  haunt of ne'er-do-wells and worse much like this blog which has been cutting through stuff at odd angles on and off for eight years now.

Thirst quencher

It's been a bit of dry spell for this blog;  here's a little something to be going on with. It seems the new fashion is to disparage plastic bottles and the lovely sugary confections that they contain. Folk are having their colas, fruit drinks and lemonades taxed or replaced with vile artificially sweetened substitutes (all for their own good you understand, adult choice having been outsourced to  HMRC) and being led by the nose (and other sensitive parts) to drink water from their recycled plastic bottles. So in keeping with this nagging and nannying the local water company have splashed out on this fountain on King Edward Street and a couple of other places. Of course it cannot just be a simple drinking fountain it has to be an oasis with attendant sculptures (I believe that was the word used). It all brings to my mind a saying of my long departed mother: " Water only made one man and the wind blew him over" ...

.... a long seat for several people, typically made of wood or stone

... otherwise known as a bench. This was taken last March when the new benches in Queen Victoria Square were all shades of yellowy-red through brown now they're a uniform silver-grey. Comfortable benches, good for sitting and whiling away the day.

The April Fool's theme for City Daily Photo is 'One Colour'.

The place to be is Withernsea

If you haven't been to Withernsea then all I can say is that you haven't lived. With its balmy sandy beaches and inviting blue waters Withernsea is the seaside resort without parallel. The posters below on Whitefriargate last year gave only the merest hint of the pleasures that await you on the sunny Yorkshire coast. Just half an hour's driving on delightful roads due east of the city of culture will bring you to this very special place.

OK it's a bit of dead end, run down resort that used to have a lot of visitors until the railway was removed. Now there's still a beach, a handful of shops and a lighthouse that was carefully placed so far inland that the eroding waves could never reach it. I went there once, it rained.

A Pair of Glasses on a Bench

At some point last summer someone found that cheap reading glasses are cheap for a reason ... and this being the City of Culture instead of just binning them they neatly arranged the erstwhile spectacles in a respectful homage to Nguyen and Khayatan's famed installation at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. 

The Weekend in Black and White is here.

Space and Entity

I meant to post these last year but obviously didn't. They're part of that exhibition at the University which I've shown bits of before (1 2 3 ). The one above is entitled Space and not as I thought Halitosis, the lower one goes by the name of Entity and Margot is responsible for that photo. I had thought this exhibition would be over by now as the bumpf on it says it lasts until 31 march 2017 but I guess they got the year wrong and haven't noticed.
I have a couple more of these things and will dig them out and post them soonish meanwhile you will no doubt be pondering on how well they stimulate "thought and refection about the historic connection between Iceland and Hull"....

FREEDOM

Freedom is the will to be responsible for ourselves.

                                                                Freddy Nietzsche

Came across this little sign on the Scale Lane on the side of the Lion and Key pub.