Tag: Lancaster

Who Are You Calling An Antique?

Whereas Helen and I had done haircuts on Monday, Wednesday morning was my mum’s turn. I dropped her off and had a little wander around Poulton, the old Morecambe before it was even Morecambe.

An old stone building Description automatically generated

The old Holy Trinity church is in the middle, with its old graveyard and neighbouring cemetery. Less than a hundred yards behind Holy Trinity is the Roman Catholic Church of St. Mary’s, which dated from the nineteenth century is an old church building for a Roman Catholic Church in this country. From there I could see another old brick tower and so went to investigate. Only to find it was just a brick tower in the middle of a municipal car park. Supposedly it was used by firemen to practise in. I’m not sure how much time they would have had to practise though, as this is Morecambe, fire central UK.

A picture containing grass, outdoor, building, house Description automatically generated

I walked back towards the sea front and past Morecambe Town Hall, with its well laid out sunken gardens and grand looking frontage. As I walked past it on the way up to an old stone archway back into the cemetery, I could see the side and back of the Town Hall. They must have spent all the money on the frontage, as the rest of the building is very functional.

A person standing in front of a building Description automatically generated

The cemetery isn’t large but does have various interesting elements. There are two wooden carvings at the far end, very much in an oriental style. There is a variety of grand headstones and monuments throughout. Though it does look as if they had a job lot of tall columns with a half covered urn on top. A style I hadn’t really seen anywhere else before, but there were half a dozen of them in this small cemetery.

A picture containing grass, outdoor, building, park Description automatically generated

After the haircut was done we picked Helen up and headed into Lancaster. M&S and Primark for pick-ups and exchanges, before heading up to Williamson Park and the Ashton Memorial. The memorial itself wasn’t open, but the café was, and we had lunch with a great view of Morecambe bay in the distance.

When you get told that there is an antiques centre that is huge, you assume it’s mainly hyperbole. But the GB Antiques centre isn’t exaggerating about being the largest one in the country. There is no such thing as a quick look around there. Over two hours flew by and the staff were shepherding us to the doors at closing time, without us having managed to walk around the whole thing before they started to turn lights off. We did manage to pick up a few nice items, and it is worth bearing in mind about bringing a picnic if we visit again.

With it being tea time it was time to find somewhere to have food. As has happened on a few visits to my mum’s, we ended up in The Royal in Heysham village. The last time we had been here there had been a somewhat brusque Italian guy serving. He was still there. He was still brusque, not even letting us sit down before demanding our drinks order, and saying there was no drinks menu, as it wasn’t allowed. Only for him to bring a food menu later. It’s difficult not to laugh, especially as he seemed to be wearing trousers cast off by Rupert the Bear.

Food was good, but the rain had descended by the time we were heading out to go home; thankfully after we’d done the day’s activities. All that was left to do was to plan where to go tomorrow.

The Ashton Memorial

We all have those places. The ones that we keep meaning to go to, but never get there. Yet in just over a year I’ve been to three of these places now. The first was Bolney Village; I followed the signpost off the A23 after years of travelling past it. The second was in the summer, when I got to visit the Rushton Triangular Lodge, after many more years of passing it on the train to and from Leicester.

Last weekend I did the third.

For those who use the northern lengths of the M6, you can see the Ashton Memorial from the motorway between the two junctions for Lancaster. The large white baroque folly is clearly visible, even at empty motorway speeds. At night it is now lit up and acts like a siren call. It can also be seen from various parts of Lancaster, especially up at the Castle and Priory, plus from Morecambe, Heysham and all the way out to Sunderland Point on the west bank of the River Lune.

My mum has lived in Morecambe for getting on for fifteen years, and I’ve been going up there for twelve of those. And despite seeing the building from various aspects, I’ve never managed to make it up the hill to have a look close up.

Last Friday, I finally did, and it was definitely worth the walk up to the top of the hill.

The Ashton Memorial is a folly; a memorial built for the love of a woman by someone with the money to do so. It was built by Lord Ashton a Lancashire businessman, then MP, and finally a Baron, in memory of his second wife.

It stands at the top of the hill set within Williamson Park, named after the family name of Lord Ashton. It stands just over 150 feet high from the ground level it is on to the top of its dome, and has 104 steps up to it from the lower level of the park.

Inside on the ground floor is a grand open space, with marble floors and columns, and long doors and windows looking out over the grounds. In the tow eastern corners are stairs up to the upper chamber, that first give access to the base of the dome, from where you can walk out around the outside of the building and get magnificent views out over the City of Lancaster, and out to the Lake District to the north, and the Irish Sea to the West.

It also gives views across to the two power stations at Heysham, where my better half was working for the day, and then the wind farm beyond out to sea.

More stairs wind up to the Williamson Gallery. Another marble infused space, with stained glass windows casting a blue hue into the room. It is at this point that they stop you from climbing any more stairs. The final flights up to the top of the dome are behind a locked door bearing the words private on it. (Not that it stopped me trying it of course).

The Memorial was built between 1907 and 1909 and cost the equivalent of £8 million pounds today. It was damaged by fire in the early sixties, and was closed for a number of years due to safety concerns in the eighties. But it has been restored to its former glory now and is well worth the trek up the hill (and the steps) to visit.

An interesting fact I found out after visiting is that it stands on what is considered to be the mathematical centre point of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. It does seem like the centre of someone’s world.

I was glad to have been there, and now I’m trying to figure out where the next place is to visit of those places that I’ve always been meaning to go.