I walked further along the Grand Union Canal in the heat of midday. Now it was very still, the surface of the canal barely shimmering.
Although it was only early August, the berries were beginning to weigh down the branches – Autumn flowing towards us.
After a couple of miles, I headed away from the canal and onto the lanes.
Signs hinted that malfeasance was expected, and would be observed…
I knew that the site of the ‘great’ train robbery of 1963 was near here, and had been to it as a child. Despite the brouhaha in the media about Ronnie Biggs’ release from jail this week, I had made a choice not to seek out the location of this long ago, squalid act of greedy violence. However, as I walked beneath the railway I could see people gathered with cameras, and a guy posing with a mailsack. I asked what the occasion was (lamely hoping for a worthwhile explanation, eg ‘I just retired from the Post Office’) but the answer was ‘It’s the 46th anniversary today!’ I didn’t need to ask ‘of what?’. This was the place, site of the crime ‘of’ the (last) century. Strange that such an act should be fetishised – perhaps it’s no wonder we get ripped off my MPs and banks, they think we like it. On a trivial note, the least of the ‘train robbers” crimes, the nadir of the Sex Pistols/Jamie Reid output, a single with Biggs on vocals, sounded the death knell of punk back in the late 70s. For that reason alone I view the crime-gloss on Ledburn Bridge 127 with disdain.
Murky ghost recorded, I walked on towards Mentmore.
To be continued