The Closed Shops of Mill Road

I'd noticed scaffolding had gone up in front of the building formerly inhabited by a Tesco. It had been empty for a while, the supermarket oligarch having finally given up the ghost in Mill Road. For many this was a welcome departure. A few years ago, the No Mill Road Tesco campaign was well organised and culminated in a large demonstration. The Tesco opened anyway. But with no alcohol licence and with limited local support, a few short years down the line its not that surprising that it has gone. It had failed  to compete with the long standing and more popular Mill Road Co-op. As a 'product' of the Co-op and so having inherited a possibly irrational semi-loyalty to it, I can't say I was sorry to see the back of Tesco. The building had potential. I had hoped that maybe in a street constantly bigging up its community credentials, somebody with more imagination, ingenuity and access to funds  than me might come up with a great plan. Maybe some sort of cultural venue, library, community repair shop or centre where people could go and interact without feeling like they have to buy an expensive coffee to pay for their seat. 

Of course, nothing of the sort has been proposed. Instead there is currently a planning application for a private MRI scanning facility. I hadn't been that optimistic that what would replace Tesco would be anything to get too excited about. But I had not foreseen something quite as far removed from what- might-have-been as the provision of a private health care facility. This seemed to me something wholly contrary to everything I regarded Mill Road as having once stood for, in particular on the Romsey side of the Bridge.

A bit of cursory investigation revealed the planning application was made by Moor Park Capital Next Gen Ltd.  Companies House records show the company is directed by somebody of Australian nationality who is resident in Thailand. The company is owned by Hamersley Private Limited of the British Virgin Islands. Who is behind the BVI company of course is not (and does not have to be) disclosed.

There have already been a few objections lodged against the plans on grounds of noise, traffic and because the proposed development is out of character with the conservation area. The current building can hardly be said to be of architectural merit, but does have essence of Mill Road about it. What the Council's decision will be is anyone's guess. The developers appear to have already started work regardless.

I took a stroll to observe other recent developments. Or more accurately in most cases lack of development. A number of shops that closed have remained dormant for some time, most since before or during the pandemic. They are frozen in time, creating interim liminal points in between the places that have remained active or in some cases been reactivated. These 'closed shops' are left behind in time and have become temporary relics of the 'before times'.

Opposite the former Tesco is a shop unit which has its windows completely covered in newspaper from the inside. It is not possible to see into the interior and no shop sign remains from its previous incarnation. The newspaper, the Cambridge News, dates from 29 October 2016. I have no memory of what type of business occupied the premises before that which was a realisation that I found quite disturbing.  Eight years is  quite a long time for a shop on a  thriving street to be closed which was something  not so much disturbing as plain odd. The static window display of old news reminded me how quickly places can disappear from memory. Even those previously celebrated are often soon forgotten after abandonment or replacement.

I was interrupted while perusing the archive  headlines by a man asking if I would mind helping with his sons A-Level geography fieldwork. I was happy to oblige, although was slightly perplexed that the Dad was doing all the talking. The son said nothing while I answered his Dad's questions. The questions were concerned mainly with access to state education in Cambridge with a view to University. I was disappointed not to have been asked about current issues around gentrification, active travel, traffic congestion and more specifically given what I was up to, the changing retail environment. I have no children so my knowledge about access to the best local schools is limited, but no doubt money, pushy parents and being in the right catchment area are still factors that have a significant impact on a kid's chances of getting into the best state schools, which is more or less what I told him was my perception.  

After he'd gone, I resumed reading the headlines.  The one that stood out the most was the imminent invasion of 'alien ladybirds'. It was the close up shot that exaggerated the alien-like features of one of these creatures that caught my eye. I don't recall any subsequent emergency involving ladybirds in 2016 or since, and hoped the current flap about African Hornets would turn out to be equally as non-eventful. Another headline concerned the council's determination to push ahead with the Dutch roundabout at the 'accident blackspot' where Fendon Road meets Queen Edith's way. That did go ahead and the reception has been mixed. Having traversed it a few times by foot, car and bike I'm not sure I noticed that much difference in terms of feeling more safe, but initially was considerably more confused about what I was supposed to be doing. Like flat pack furniture, it didn't come with very good instructions, but was easy enough to work out. The roundabout is still often argued about on local social media. The ladybirds on the other hand, are never spoken of.

A little further along, the Chicken Rush takeaway has seemingly been closed for much longer than it was opened.  It was an active concern for an even shorter period than the curry house that preceded it. I managed to visit both only once each, such was their limited tenure.  Prior to the curry house it had been a newsagent-cum-general store that was very useful and now is something lacking from Mill Road. The shutters of Chicken Rush were unusually open one side, suggesting some sign of life inside. But when I passed a couple of hours later to get my tea from the Co-op they were back down. Whether goings on behind the shutters signify an imminent resumption of some front of house activity remains a mystery.

I wandered down to the area of Romsey beyond Coleridge Road. The former Chick-King takeaway has been closed for several years as mentioned in a previous post. Since I last took any notice of it the takeaway signs had disappeared and some graffiti had appeared. The open windows indicated the building is still occupied as residential premises. I've heard nothing anywhere of plans for any new outlet of any sort here. 

I didn't go beyond 'Chick King' and headed back up the road.

I passed the former Romsey Town Labour Club with a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow. It remains (for now) a symbol of a more community spirited and cohesive Mill Road. The crumbling building appeared broken and resigned to its future development into short term 'apart hotel' type accomodation. Last year the City Council's Planning Committee refused an updated application for 43 serviced apartments on the site and said  the previously approved plan for 36 plus a gym and cafe could still go ahead.  But no development whatsoever has started to date and the building, including the facade which I think is supposed to be retained, is getting ever more dilapidated. Some remains of fly-posters pointing out what a great community space the building would make were still hanging on.  Nigel had added his stamp of support to that sentiment more recently on the boarded up front door, appropriately in red. 

Despite searching I can't find any recent update. A post by The Cambridge Town Owl 'Can we save Romsey Labour Club?'  back in April explains the lack of Council funding and powers mean that the building has little chance of a return to its former glory as a community asset. So  the answer to the question is almost certainly 'no'. The post also contains a bit of the history of the current planning application, as well a couple of random links to videos shot inside the club. One of these features a live set from 2012 by 'The Doozer', who was a local musician with connections to the 'Weird Folk' scene of the mid 2000s. He was behind Harvest Time promotions who put on several events in Cambridge featuring some of the leading lights of the 'New Weird America' wave of bands and others of similar ilk. This peaked with the Palimpsest Festivals at All Saints Church that ran annually from 2005 til 2007 (possibly beyond but I only remember three). Harvest time and the Doozer have since faded into the collective memory, having ceased operations some time back as far as I know. The random video was a reminder of what has been lost with the dissapearance of the Labour Club as a space to host arts and entertainment, as well as cheap beer, cheap cheese and onion sandwiches and conversation.

I crossed the road and walked up to Dutch's Corner. It was hard for some reason to get a good photo of the new development that recently replaced the Cambridge Bed Centre in its entirety. Before the Bed Centre, Frank 'Dutch' Holland's petrol station and prior to that Holland's bakery had occupied the site, hence the name 'Dutch's Corner'. The view above is a reflection from one of the windows of the shop/cafe that sits on the ground floor. Reflected from across the street is the shop recently vacated by Cutlacks, a hardware, kitchen and garden shop which had been a staple on Mill Road for years. I heard vague things about a planning application flats but have seen nothing substantial. The owner wanted to downsize and concentrate on his other shop in Ely. But he also cited the planned Mill Road Bridge closure and congestion charge as 'the last straw' and things which hastened his decision.

The shop/cafe at Dutches Corner sits beneath the flats that make up the bulk of the building. The block is unusually more reminiscent of decent 60s municipal housing than the usual sort of spreadsheet architecture we have come to expect from new developments. It was brown, not beige and of a proportionate size (although still too big for me to photograph without crossing the road, which I didn't bother to do). Around the back is a small development called 'Holland Row' that is owned by 'City Stay' and available for short let via Booking.com. The light coloured small flat roofed brick buildings were utilitarian looking but at the same time eliminated a kind of seaside/Mediterranean feel. Fitting perhaps for short term/holiday lets and symptomatic of the increasing 'destinisation' of Mill road. Two or three normal looking houses have been built on Ross Street, the backs gardens facing the serviced apartment buildings. These houses sit a bit awkwardly, not quite blending in with the existing Victorian stock. But overtime, this newness will probably fade into line with the rest of the street. The houses looked more like they would (or at least could) be occupied by people needing somewhere permanent to live, which is a good thing. The new Dutch's Corner Development is, as signified by a notice stuck onto one of the walls, owned and managed by HTS Estates Ltd, a long standing locally owned company rather than one with owners in tax haven. Also a good thing.

Back around the front I had a closer look at the shop/cafe. It didn't open on Mondays but I could see the menu. Sandwiches at £8.95, even with the addition of a BeefHeart tomato, seemed a bit extortionate for my wallet. I could get a BeefHeart CD for less than that in Fopp. It did have a cheese counter though so I may be tempted to make a return visit.

I carried on up the road to the Broadway. Here was another premises that had fairly recently become inert. The Sea Tree had been a more upmarket fish and chip shop, which opened a few years ago right next door to the existing ABC barbecue chip shop/kebab joint. The Sea Tree had a fire a few months ago that it has not recovered from. Rumours of inadequate insurance have been cited as the reason it hasn't been able to reopen. There has been no sign of any movement for several months.

The ABC Barbecue, while outlasting it's next door neighbour by a matter of weeks, has finally closed having changed hands. It is still operational as a kebab joint I think, so the use hasn't changed significantly, but the chicken spit in the window has finally gone along with the nostalgic ambience and the fish and chips. The old Kebab Leg sign though is still there, for the time being at least. No sign signifying the replacement name for ABC has gone up, giving an ominous air of temporariness about the new incarnation.

The Sea Tree was the final place in a state of limbo I encountered on the Romsey side of the Bridge. I crossed over into Petersfield.

At the bottom of the bridge, the old Mill Road Free Library building is still standing and still has the for sale notice on display. Some months back Centre 33, a charity working with young people, was shortlisted as the preferred bidder. But nothing seems to have happened yet and the building still appears in a limbo state. Prior to its closure it had been used by the Hindi community as the Bharat Bhavan Temple. Earlier this month, 'The Gateway To India'  was was officially opened up the road in Ditchburn Place Gardens. The structure had previously been part of the Bharat Bhavan temple, but following the end of the lease, it was saved from destruction by the efforts  of a local trader. What the future holds for building that once housed the 'Gateway' is less clear.

Over the road on the corner of Devonshire Road is another building in an in-between state. The second and third floors still appeared to be occupied and presumably are in residential use. But the ground floor, which I think was previously a reprographics business of some kind, has been empty a while. I couldn't remember how long for and when it was opened I barely noticed what was inside, which was strange given its prominent position on the corner. Now the ground floor at least has an air of abandonment. There is a pile of unopened post on the mat and what appears to be a collection of unwanted personal belongings inside. Graffiti has started to colonise the windows. I have seen no mention of any plans for the building anywhere. 

Across the street, just next to the butchers, are some fairly recently built short stay flats, again bearing the logo 'City Stay'. There has been talk of development of the Travis Perkins site next door for a while.  I had noticed that the Railway Cottages that sit between Travis Perkins and Mill Road Bridge, behind the butchers had their windows boarded up. The cottages provide accomodation for young people and one of the houses is used to house homeless people. Or at least did before the boards went up. The planned development, called 'Devonshire Gardens', shows the railway cottages remaining, but dwarfed by the modern architecture of the proposed new flats. The site is due to start development in 'Q4 2023' after Travis Perkins have left for pastures new and to be completed 2 years later. 

I carried on, passing two long standing limbo buildings that have stood dormant next to each other for several years now. Mickey Flynn's pool hall was active more recently than the former Quality fish Bar next door, but its been closed for several years. An attempt to open a Sainsburys supermarket on the site was thwarted when planning permission was refused following 4,500 objections. Ironically, soon after a Sainsburys, albeit one on a smaller scale, opened in the former Mace shop further up the road. Amended plans to turn Mickey Flynn's into a restaurant and flats were, as I recall, approved. But nothing has ever happened since so I might have misremembered. A cursory google search brings up nothing and the building remains stubbornly in stasis.

The former Quality Fish Bar next door is the Petersfield version of the Chick-King across the bridge. The building is apparently occupied as residential accomodation but that isn't immediately obvious and the place resembles an abandoned takeaway/restaurant. It last operated with added kebab, but I can only recall going in when it was an old school fish and chip shop of the sort that are rarely found in Cambridge now. The Chick-King had also been an old school chip shop called The Belgrave around the same time. Both I think had the same owner, which probably accounts for the similar current use as ghost chip shop accomodation.

 

Meanwhile, opposite the now ghostly and precarious burnt out remains of H Gee is hidden behind the boarded up facade. I noticed I had been preceded once again by 'Nigel', who I assumed must have been carrying out his own survey of the liminal sites of Mill Road. The former Roll On Blank Tapes, down Gwydir Street just opposite, had recently been boarded up. It had been said that Mr Gee had lived there. I don't know if that was true or if he still does. I wondered if the boarding up of Roll On Blank Tapes signified something ominous. The loss of the H Gee emporium of electrical gadgetry meanwhile was a significant change and seemed to herald a new era on Mill Road and not necessarily a better one.

On the corner of Tenison Road two dormant premised face each other. The former premises of Culinaris Deli (not photographed) has been closed for a relatively short time and the business has moved up the road to bigger premises previously occupied by Lloyds Bank, on the corner of St. Barnabas Road. I didn't think this warranted inclusion as the business still exists and the site has not been dormant for long (maybe a year?). But while I stood on the corner, memories came back of the long standing Chinese Takeaway that once occupied the building. The Rice Boat was its last incarnation and while this was still an old school chinese takeaway, complete with a large formica encased television permanently on in the corner, it was  its predecessor The Jade that appeared in my mind. The Jade was a seemingly timeless presence while I was growing up and well into the 1990s. It had a small restaurant at the back, which I think was where my first ever sit-in Chinese meal happened. I remember being a bit shocked  at the relatively extortionate eat in price  compared to  the (same) food available for takeaway. The Jade had some connection to The Times, another established Chinese Takeaway on Cherry Hinton Road. One of my friends nannas had a calender in her kitchen featuring  the names of both establishments, which she had obviously obtained from one of them. They presumably shared ownership. The Times was the first place I ever had a Chinese Takeaway from, so theres another connection between the two. Mill Road now has no now old school Chinese Takeaways of the formica TV variety, having hosted several over the years. But it does have The Spring, which although no TV, has almost certainly better quality food. But memories of the Jade and the Lotus House, and a lesser extent the Taipei, live on.  A friend of mine found a quantity of old menus when clearing his mums house featuring some of Cambridge's finest lost Chinese Takeaways and Indian Restaurants. Judging by the prices, they mostly dated from the 1980s, which is the era I first encountered takeaway food and which was one where Cambridge had a prolific array of such places.

Shaking myself out of an unhealthy moment of nostalgia and the craving for a Times chicken fillet curry that came with it, I focused my attention on the opposite dormant premises. This had been Music And Digital Village,  more recently known as  'DV 247'. The shop had sold musical instruments and associated equipment. Apparently it was part of a chain which suffered during the financial crises. As with many of the other places mentioned already, I can't recall exactly when it closed nor know what plans (if any) there are for the future of the shop.

Beyond the former DV 247, on the townward stretch, I saw no more 'closed shops' until I got to the site of Fagitos. This has been closed since the pandemic and had a sign saying it was 'opening soon' as a Greek restaurant for so long that I'd assumed that it was never going to happen. But it seems it is. The people behind it are apparently the same family. 'Mr Fagito' as we thought of him has I imagine has retired and passed on the business. On the 'Fagitos Albania' Facebook page, he is also referred to as Mr Fagito. The last communication from 27 April 2020  ended with: To celebrate the launch of the schedule, I will be giving away an all inclusive trip for two to Parkside Pools. All you need to do is comment 'Mr Fagito you're so ripped' on this post. Good luck! The page is almost certainly does not feature messages from the real 'Mr Fagito' despite its superficial appearance as the official means of communication of the previous takeaway incarnation.

The frontage is now unrecognisable. I wasn't sure if the undercoat had still yet to be painted over or if there had been a localised outbreak of Grey Plague. It looked likely that the new Fagitos was going to a different proposition to the infamous late night Takeaway that almost certainly invented Spicy Potatoes and remains Mill road's most celebrated outlet of its type (with the possible exception of Carlos). The new Fagitos will, I guess, need to cater for the demands of the new Mill Road and so no doubt will be different. But the name will live on. And with a bit of luck the spicy potatoes.

The final site I checked out was the building that was once well known for being the Ann Pettengel Bureau. At least it was well known to Cambridge cinema goers during the 1980s, when it featured in the reel of adverts for local businesses.  My main recollection  was the representation of the building itself in a graphic, almost cartoon form, with the businesses logo above. I think I was too young to realise that a recruitment agency was a gateway to office toil and all that entailed. Instead, I recall at the time that the representation of the building had a slightly magical quality about it but I can't remember exactly why. Ann Pettengel left Mill Road some years ago and now operates from Cowley road business park on the Northern periphery of Cambridge.  Recently the Mill Road site was used as offices for for an insurance company, but at the time of the walk was almost ready to reopen after a short gap as offices for Home Instead, a social care franchise operation.

It stuck me as a bit of an odd place and an unnecessarily large building for offices of a social care company.  Also locating where rents are I imagine  unfavourable for a business which could easily be located on a cheaper site seemed an odd move. At first I had assumed it was going to be an actual care home which would have made more sense. The only explanation I could think of that it would only serve local people within walking distance or cycling distance and its carers would  not have to dive anywhere-even to get to work. That seemed unlikely. But I'm not a business person, so what do I know. I was glad though to see the building still the same shape as in the one in  old cinema adverts and was also glad it has been occupied by something that will bring some social benefit, unlike its counterpart over the bridge at the former Tesco should the MRI scanner plan come to fruition.

I finished my amble back at the former Tesco site, noticing that only one of the four cars that had been parked up before was still there. Activity was at a standstill.  

Shops, restaurants, takeaways, pubs and other businesses have come and gone over the years along the road. Some have been fleeting, barely noticed or remembered. Others have been well established and long serving and when gone remain in faded form in the collective memory. Several of the 'closed shops' seen today though seemed to belong to a different phenomena to the normal ebb and flow of businesses closing and opening. The duration many have been in limbo seems counter to all the talk of the street as a thriving  'destination'. Maybe they are biding their time, pending decisions on the bridge closure and congestion charge before deciding what to turn into. Maybe difficulties with planning permission or lack of funds are the causes of stasis. Maybe they are the victim of the general change in the retail environment due to increasing automation and online buying, coupled with the cost of living crises reducing the viability of retail, even in well off places. 

Whatever the reasons, the 'closed shops' seemed to me symbolic of the current division of opinion about the bridge closure and more widely congestion charge. At the time of writing, the Fiends of Mill Road Bridge have launched a legal challenge against the decision to close the Bridge that has delayed the closure.  Last week a woman was reported in the Cambridge Independent as saying she would 'self identify as a bus' if fined for driving over the bridge. Meanwhile,  pressure groups on the other side of the debate are citing statistics gleaned from the recent Greater Cambridge Partnership consultation to back up their arguments. 72% of just under 2,000 respondents said they were in favour of restricting traffic over the bridge. Whether that figure, based as it is on only a fraction of the number of people living in Romsey and Petersfield, is representative of the true feeling of the majority of the population or if it should be regarded as the result of just another 'non-sultation', is anyone's guess. But until things move on for good or ill, the more long standing of the 'closed shops' of Mill Road will probably remain in limbo.

 

Royston: Of crossroads and cave, crooks and crows

Smoke and Mirrors (aka Crab and Bee aka) describe the town of Royston in 'The Pattern' thus:

'Royston is a place from which the power has been removed.A hollow left behind when the roof was pulled. There are many signs of the hooded crow but no hooded crows'.

Re-reading that section of The Pattern prompted a long belated trip to the town of Royston and a visit to the Royston Cave.

The Cave and Royston generally have been lurking in the back of my mind for some time. I've never properly been to Royston, only briefly passed through it or visited the Royston Heath as a child, memories of which are vague and involve Peter Powell kites, balsa wood gliders and my grandad.  The town is only about 15 minutes away from Cambridge by train. I wasn't really sure why I'd never been.

The first notable point after leaving the station and heading in the direction of the town centre along The Old North Road was the small museum. The exhibits that seemed most significant  were a taxidermy hooded crow and the model of the Priory Cinema. In fact, I can't swear it was a model, it may have just been a photograph. The memory of most of the exhibits in the museum faded soon after leaving, so it's likely I've misremembered.

The cinema opened in the early 1930s and featured typical brown brick of the time but with unusual octagonal features in the design. It was demolished in 2002 to make way for housing, but seems to remain as nearly as important  in the memory of the town as the hooded crow.

The hooded crow was once a common visitor to Hertfordshire and in particular Royston, to the extent that it is often referred to a the 'Royston Crow'. The name was also given to local cavalier supporters who brawled with visiting Roundheads in the Cromwellian era. It has for years also been the name given to the local paper.

 

Old North Road/Kneesworth Street or Ermine Street, met the crossroads with the Icknield Way soon after. Both the Cave and the Royce Stone sit at the conjunction of the two ancient routes. I spotted The Cave Shop, which sits adjacent to the Cave entrance.  But since our visit to the cave was not due for a couple of hours, we continued over the crossroads. I had intended to stop and investigate the Royce Stone,  but the presence of an ogre-like man standing next to it like a guard dissuaded me. He had an energy drink in one hand and a fag in the other, and was and using the depression on the stone as an ashtray. The stone is said to be the original base of Roisia's Cross, named after the Lady Roisia who may have erected the cross or repaired an already existing one, at a time when the town had yet to be established in the 10th century. The town, which subsequently grew up around the crossroads, is said to be named after her. Roisia's Town was later truncated to Royston, the stone became the Royce Stone. 

During a brief and incoherent wander through the town, in which we took in in the Priory Gardens and some side alleys off the main shopping street, we encountered more a modern but no less curious and completely unexplained stonework. Then we headed to Therfield Heath.

Therfield Heath is the place I knew as Royston Heath as a child. Now it is a nature reserve , a Special Site of Scientific Interest on part of  a large chalk escarpment. No kite flying was evident.  To the West, the nature reserve gave way to a golf course featuring prehistoric long barrows. Further in the distance I could clearly see the Sandy Heath Transmitter, looming up from the neighbouring county of Bedfordshire. The Icknield Way was signposted, cutting across the Health and  heading south to Baldock and Letchworth, north-west, out of the town and passing through the Greenwich Meridian before  bypassing Cambridge, on to Newmarket and beyond.  As I sat taking in the view, among a profusion of wild flowers and bees,  something flew over me. A hooded crow. Or was it? Crab and Bee say there are none and the Kent Ornithological Society say that the last sighting in Royston was in 1985. The image is still clear in my mind, but may well have been a projection of my geographic imagination brought about by the earlier visit to the museum and the still present spectre of the crow throughout the town. 

Our appointment at the Cave meant we didn't have too long to linger. On the way back through the town, we diverted through Angel Pavement, a 60s pedestrian shopping precinct which both stood out and blended in with the older buildings in the town centre to form an  atmosphere typical of London commuter belt Hertfordshire towns, including neighbours like Letchworth or Hoddesdon.  Royston seemed unusually quiet. It was Saturday, early afternoon but felt more akin to a Wednesday morning such was the lack of people. Coming from Cambridge,where town on Saturday is best avoided due to the overwhelming volume of tourists and shoppers, this was a minor revelation.

 

Angel Pavement featured a newly opened independent bookshop, the only one in Royston and something that is a rarity generally.  We diverted in to have a look. They had what looked like an interesting topography section. But before I'd had a good look,  I was distracted by a display of books in the centre of the shop being 'manned' by a posh sounding lady. The books were all by Jeffrey Archer and I realised that he had been invited to come and sign books to mark the opening of the shop. I remembered Archer coming to talk at an assembly at my school many years ago where he had made much of the virtues of honesty and hard work. I remember not being very convinced at the time. Subsequent events and revelations about Archer, which ended in his imprisonment for perjury, seemed to bear out my scepticism. We left the shop before he had a chance to arrive.

Archer was not from Royston, but is most usually associated with Grantchester, just on the edge of Cambridge, where he  still lives with Mary Archer in the Old Vicarage. The TV programme Grantchester, set in a fictionalised version of the village sometime in the 1950s, has no connection to Archer, although central to the programme is criminal activity and a vicarage. The crimes in the TV series were usually murders, not perjury, lying or cheating. The day we arrived in Royston,  Archer had chosen to come from Grantchester, the fictional vintage murder hotspot, to Royston, to open a bookshop.  

 

Royston does have a more recent and much less sanitised, if less frequent, history of murder than the fictional 'Grantchester'. The non-fictional murder of Helen Bailey, a children's book author from Royston happened in 2016. Had she still been alive, she would have probably been a far more suitable candidate to open a bookshop in Royston. She was murdered by her fiance Ian Stewart,  who hid her body and that of her dog in a septic tank at her house. It emerged the Stuart had in the past played bowls at the same club as my Dad. My Dad said he always thought there was something 'a bit odd' about him.  Stewart was later also convicted of killing his previous wife back in 2010.

I was with these black thoughts and the image of the grinning face of Jeffrey Archer stubbornly refusing to shift from my minds eye, that we headed to the Cave. After a short wait loitering in the passage next door with others who had booked the tour, we were welcomed in by the guide. After a short decent we were in the chamber, which had been cut out of chalk and was festooned with carvings of unknown age and origin, as well as 17th century graffiti. The Cave was discovered in the 17th century when some works above accidently revealed the opening, but thought to date from at least the 1300's.

 

Several figures were depicted in the carvings. One was said to be by some St. Christopher, patron Saint of Travel, probably the nearest thing the Christians can offer to a psychogeographic figure. Others think the carving represents Hermes, The Greek God of travel and messenger to the Gods. In modern times, that name is more associated with disgruntled gig economy workers who throw parcels over fences to express their distain at 21st Century labour market conditions.

 

Explanations and theories about who the figures in the carvings were supposed to be or what they represented are many and varied. The same is true of the cave itself. The guide explained that nothing had ever been proven, so people were free to believe in whichever theory they liked. There are various theories suggesting the cave may have been a prison, hermitage, hiding place for religious dissenters, site of pagan worship or possibly most popular, that it was connected to the Knights Templar. The guide clearly had met people with all sorts of theories and beliefs that visited, some more out-there than others. Midsummer day was only a few days before we visited, when the number of Earth Mystery types and dowsers visiting the caves increases.  The Cave is thought to be at an intersection of the The Mary and Michael Ley Lines, which in turn are said to lead in different directions to nearby sites associated with the Templars, who some say were skilled at the art of dowsing. 

Another feature of the cave was that it had apparently had a wooden platform on all sides, octagonal in shape. I was reminded of the octagonal features of the Priory Cinema and wondered if there was some sort of connection.

I can't say I felt anything unusual in the Cave, although it was without doubt an unusual and unique place. I did enjoy  the much welcome cool air found underground, and the chamber provided a refuge from the heat we had escaped from outside. In a previous era it may have offered refuge from other uncomfortable or dangerous situations. But can't say I felt any weird energy or had any moments of revelation. 

But when we emerged a man was standing in the alley outside. He had came out of the Cave before the tour had finished and looked a bit shaken. We enquired if he had felt claustrophobic. The chamber was fairly small, particularly when filled to capacity by hit people on the tour. He said no. He had though apparently felt some kind of bad energy present in The Cave, and had had to get out.

 

We had a brief look in the Royston Cave Shop next door. It was full of the sort of paraphernalia to be found in New Age type shops of the sort that I imagine  proliferate in Glastonbury. I had a look at the books, some of which were concerned with the Cave and the Knights Templar. Others were not Royston centric, but included quite a bit of  Erich Von Daniken inspired ancient aliens type volumes as well as the typical new age sort of stuff. After leaving the Cave Shop we crossed the road and passed above the original entrance to the cave, marked by a sort of manhole cover immediately outside of Bet Fred, where two punters had come out for a fag break.The contrast between the scenes above and below ground were stark. Back on the surface, the intrigue of the Cave was quickly replaced by the dull and ordinary scene of a betting shop exterior. The boundary between old and new Royston was  a thin one, between the road surface and the chamber of the Cave 

One thing I didn't see in the Cave Shop shop or hear anything about on the tour was the assertion that Royston sits at the heart of the 13th sign of the British Zodiac. I stumbled across a short paper explaining this on the internet after I got home. First I was stuck by the impressive green and purple cartographic image, which had at its centre High Cross, where Watling Street and Fosse Way intersect near Leicester.  Royston is depicted directly South East, apparently at the heart of Ophiuchus, the constellation marking the 13th Sign. The sign apparently 'signifies a new cycle of time and initiation at a higher evolutionary level than before'. The paper manages to bring together the Round Table, King Arthur and the Grail, The Knights Templar, the aforementioned Michael and Mary Ley Lines and Roisia's Cross, with the Royston Cave at the centre of all this. It goes on to suggest that Royston was the  place of origin for the Hot Cross bun custom and ties this back to St. George, The Red Cross (Roisias Cross) and the Cave as a place of  rebirth. 

 

I first assumed the paper had been deposited online as a prank and assumed it was something that had been written in the spirit of the London Psychogeographical Association, Luther Blissett or the Church of The Subgenius. But a further look at the Francis Bacon Research Institute website made me doubt my initial assumptions and it seemed to be an entirely serious organisation. I was though still sceptical about the hot cross buns and it turned out rightly so as they were invented by  Brother Thomas Rocliffe in St Albans Abbey, at least according to other bits of the internet. St Albans is still in Hertfordshire and not that far away from Royston, so I guess they were not too far off the mark. Although St Alban's appears peripheral to the 13th sign of the zodiac at best.

 

Before we departed the crossroads, I noticed that there was now no ogre guarding the Royce Stone, so I went for closer look. It was set on a fairly recent looking stone platform,  with an engraving encircling it that gave a brief explanation of the object. That it was situated in an otherwise unremarkable setting, a street science typical of any nearby Hertfordshire commuter town, enhanced the significance of the object. The stone, which if the stories of Roisia's Cross are true, predates the town and was a catalyst for its development around the crossroads at the intersection of ancient tracks, (possibly) the Ley Lines and to the West the Greenwich Meridian.

Adding a further layer of intrigue was the appearance of 'Nigel' on a bin next to the stone. The tag is (as far as I know) native to Cambridge. Nigel's appearance in Royston mirrored Archers and our own. A day away in the peripheral zone of Royston, an escape to a sort of non-place away where one could dissapear temporarily. It was clearer now why Smoke and Mirrors described the town as having had the power removed. The townscape surrounding the cave felt like a place that was less alive than it might once have been. A place where much passes through but little stays. I had read that the original Meridian Marker in the west of the town had been stolen in 2007 and had to be replaced. The nearby Meridian school closed down following conversion into an academy and subsequent merger with two other schools. The town appeared to be in a state of downsizing to the point of being somewhere mostly used just to pass through, as it was before it properly existed. I surmised that the departure of the Royston Crow in 1985 had probably heralded a  reversion whereby the town became peripheral in every sense to the crossroads at its centre. The cross roads once again becoming became the only focal point, a place of passing through, channelling travellers in and out without encouraging them to stop. Ironically, the resulting subdued atmosphere of the town was something I had enjoyed, it had made a nice change. We had come with the purpose of not just passing through, which felt like a disruption of what the town really wanted us to do. Although we did not feel unwelcome, but not really welcome. Just left alone.  A day in the town was like the equivalent of a lengthy sit on a park bench in the middle of a long walk. A welcome and peaceful respite from the horrors of the modern world in a place neither salubrious or horrific, but one semi-sonambulant. Somewhere in between things.

Footnote:

The Royston Cave website contains much information about the Cave and the various theories connected to it.

https://www.roystoncave.co.uk/

 

Terminalia: The North-East Cambridge Boundary Conjunction

 

I set out to mark Terminalia, Festival of Terminus, Roman god of borders and boundaries. I had missed the actual day of 23rd Feb due to not being able to get time off work. So was not able to participate in any of the events of the Terminalia Festival of Psychogeography, nor carry out any sort of significant perambulation on the actual date.

Last year I did a walk along and about the A14, in the zone between the Histon and Milton fly-overs and the northern extremity of Cambridge city boundary. I never got around to writing the blog, but did do a live twitter feed.  I was glad to  have been followed by a handful of real people as well as an A14 bot account. The latter appeared to function as a traffic update service. Any hashtagged mention of A14 in a tweet prompted an almost instant retweet. If the walk had served no other purpose, disrupting traffic updates with notes and pictures of my observations of the peripheral environment that surrounded the dual carriageway felt oddly satisfying.

One of those observations was a confluence of borders and boundaries. It was located at the very limits of the North Eastern part of County Parish Boundary at the point where it  encompasses the meeting point of the 13th Public Drain, the 1st Public Drain (or at least an offshoot thereof) and the railway line. Here, the county boundary follows the course of the 13th Public Drain West to East for a short section until it intersects with the 1st and aligns with its route back South across the A14. The hum of the A14 could be heard or maybe the right word is felt from the spot as I stood at the confluence. On that day, the direction of the wind was such that another hum, emanating from the Cambridge Water Treatment Works the other side of the A14, permeated the air  This added another important, if slightly unpleasant, dimension to the feel of the small zone around the conjunction.

This year I set off for a walk on Saturday 25th February, a couple of days late. I had no real thought as to where I might go and had allowed myself to drift. On passing the former Hopbine Pub, the building currently squatted by the Cambridge Community Food Hub, I saw the first 'Nigel' of the day. The tag, while not obviously anything connected to borders and boundaries, marked a point between aimlessness and a more decisive 'plan'. I decided to head back to the confluence of the 13th and 1st public drains.

Having crossed  Midsummer Common and the River Cam, I walked the length of Milton Road, a key arterial road joining the city to the A14. The initial stage was uneventful.  It was impossible to carry on past the shops that make up the parade opposite the Portland Arms. Roadworks blocked my path.  This stretch is seemingly as yet untroubled by neither the creeping gentrification nor clone town uniformity that has taken hold in other parts of the City.

It wasn't long until I reached the second row of shops beyond the next roundabout. Here I was immediately confronted with a notice protesting about the proposed congestion charge. This scheme, devised by the Greater Cambridge Partnership, is  currently at the post consultation analysis stage, the results may well be out by the time you read this. Unsurprisingly the idea has divided opinion  among the population of 'Greater Cambridge', the area that combines both Cambridge City Council and South Cambs District Council territories. It feels like a repeat of the arguments and division caused by the proposed closure of Mill Road Bridge.  The similarity between these two debates makes sense given that the congestion charge is part of a wider strategy that includes  low traffic neighbourhoods, new cycle infrastructure, encouragement of active travel  and less car use. Better public transport is also promised in the form of more buses.

The sign opposing the charge was placed outside Chesterton Carpets, a long  established independent business of the sort rapidly disappearing.  Following the Mill Road Bridge debacle, which was part of a move  towards an ever more sanitised 'vision' of Mill Road catering to the  luxury and artisan end of the market, I couldn't help wonder how long it would be before areas like Milton Road went the same way. Chesterton Carpets or the Viking Chip Shop no doubt are not right sort of independent shops to satisfy the requirements of the 'visionaries'.

The sign took on the meaning of a temporal boundary between the past and the future. This small stretch of shops, much of which is housed in a classic brown brick block, felt like it was in danger of disappearing in its current form. I had a disturbing vision of a beige and glass 'spreadsheet architecture' replacement in the near future.

The day after the walk, there was a  protest march and rally against the congestion charge. Among those opposing the scheme, some 'arguments' soon crept in from the more outlandish and paranoid end of the spectrum. Among conspiracy theory types, the urban planning concept of the '15 minute city' is being presented as a government plan to prevent people travelling anywhere beyond a 15 minute walk of their homes.  Local social media commentators reported that Piers Corbyn, who is associated with this sort of thing, had attended the rally in Cambridge. It is clear that among those arguing against the charge there are a minority who have crossed metaphorical border. One that sits between a set of coherent and rational objections about the charge and the sort of flat out paranoia brought on by misinformation via you tube videos viewed by people 'doing their own research'.  

The 15 minute city concept is undoubtedly flawed, like all utopian ideas.  It is hard to see how it can possibly be provided to equally benefit the whole population across such a varied area as 'Greater Cambridge' let alone nationally or internationally. If the Greater Cambridge Partnership could pull off enabling everyone in the area to be able to work, shop, go to the pub, dentist and doctor by with no significant travel involved then that would be great. But its hard to imagine that in reality the current plans will do anything but exacerbate marginalisation, with those living outside the zone having to endure just as painful commute as ever they have. The void between the privileged city residents and those marginalised on the periphery is certain to grow. Included in the the peripheral population are those physically living in the more remote zones of Greater Cambridge (and beyond) who will still have little choice but to drive to Cambridge, having been priced out of the City. Also included are those living in the city on low incomes, the elderly, disabled and other marginalised groups. Of the increasingly few long term residents at the more working class end of the social spectrum, many feel like they are being pushed out or feel they no longer belong.  Those that remain are increasingly invisible as the spaces they occupy are replaced by more clone businesses, high end shops and eateries, life sciences campuses and utterly unaffordable housing.

Works were ongoing on Milton road itself, connected to the new 'vision' of the city. New cycle infrastructure was in the stages of being installed. Traffic cones and other paraphernalia were abundant along the approach to the next major intersection at the Golden Hind pub. Before I reached the Golden Hind, I passed the green topped tower of St.Georges Church in Chesterton, looming behind the houses. This reminded me that Milton Road sliced between Chesterton to the South East East and Arbury to the North West, forming a border itself. It had featured in a walk I did a couple of years ago which was another belated Terminalia excursion concerning boundaries, borders and barriers in and around Chesterton.

The Golden Hind pub marked another threshold, beyond which was a zone much more industrial. The pub, a 1930s tolly folly, is the sort of building that could not be imagined today if somebody decided to construct a new pub (an unlikely event in itself). The building belongs to a past age of ribbon  development, roadhouses and no drink driving laws. The green top of the clock tower is a twin with the tower of St. Georges. The buildings both date from the 1930s and both stand as beacons projected from that time. Both being of significant stature, they seem to represent two opposite but interrelated sides of the same coin. Church or pub may be a polar opposite choice about where to seek refuge and commune. But at least in their physical forms, these two buildings seemed to compliment each other and represent major nodes firmly holding Miton Road's 1930s ribbon development identity in place. It is hard to imagine either building ever not being there. The Golden Hind also has a counterpart in Ipswich, another Tolly Folly of the same name. I passed it during my Ipswich Town Map walk a few years back. The Milton Road Golden Hind emanates an Ipswichian atmosphere, an avatar  providing a portal back to the environs of the Suffolk County Town where most of the rest of the remaining tolly follies reside.

Just beyond the Golden Hind, across the street, the pathway submerges and goes under a turn off in the road. This underpass marks the transition into the more industrial zone that features various business parks and industrial sites and most notably, the Cambridge Waste Water Treatment Plant to the East and to the West the Science Park. The Eastern side features probably some of the most edgelandic, marginal space within the City boundary. Much of it is inaccessible. Most of  the rest of it is rarely visited by people who don't work there.

Under the bridge, a green utilities box featured a painted hand with an eye in the centre of the palm. This I assumed might be a Hamsa, a symbol of divine protection against the evil eye. I thought what lay beyond the underpass was probably benign, but maybe this was a symbol of protection or even welcome when crossing the threshold into the next zone. Another meaning of this symbol relates to the Eye of Horus. Something to do with the eye of consciousness being inescapable. The zone beyond was certainly more festooned with more CCTV cameras than I'd seen up until now. But my own consciousness became enhanced around this point of the walk. I had been walking for a while and by now had reached the point where the pace was automatic, steady and metronomic.

I passed the Cambridge Business Park, notable for being inhabited by a building used by BBC local radio after it left Betjeman House off Hills Road.  The move from a more central location, near the Station, botanic gardens and the Flying Pig Pub, was made well in advance of that site being redeveloped (it still hasn't been). Until recently, the new location was also used as a TV studio where the 'Look East (West) regional news programme used to be made. In December last year, the Western outpost was axed and instead of having two versions of Look East , there is now only one that is made in Norwich. The arbitrary boundary between the East and West of the region has been removed as far as BBC Regional TV news is concerned. Anglia TV did the same in 2009. The East-West division that meant Cambridge's Regional News items included reports from places like Corby, Milton Keynes and Northampton. Places that were to my mind more East Midlands than East Anglia. They felt far flung and had me wondering if something was wrong with the television signal. Cambridge had for years suffered a televisual cut off from Ipswich and Norwich. These two places are the county capitals of Suffolk and Norfolk respectively,  the two counties that are the most  East Anglian, some would say are East Anglia. Whether Cambridgeshire is part of East Anglia is subject to debate,which is maybe why it was pushed to the West of the region by those in charge of regional TV in Norwich. It occupies a place on the boundary, in a sort of no mans land as far as its Regional television identity is concerned. It is only due to cut backs that it has been brought back  into the realm of the Anglia Knight.

At this spot, I realised I was not far away from the (former) studios of 'That's Cambridge TV',  located adjacent to the Cambridge Water Treatment Works. The  station used to broadcast local news actually from the confines of the  City, not the Region, at least to begin with. The programme was peripheral in every sense, from the location of the studio it came from to the whole presentation, which was from just beyond the margins of what might be termed 'professional broadcasting'. The anchor man, Jeremy Wilson, was someone who during his short tenure of a year and two months, became a sort of iconic figure. His delivery and interview style was strangely robotic. I wondered if he might in fact be a prototype cyborg made at the science park across the road. The guests who appeared to be interviewed by Jeremy were usually of the most mundane variety: local councillors, school children or people undertaking some sort of good cause or charity activity . Other co-presenters came and went, sometimes reporting on location, let loose from base at Cowley Road to some of Cambridge's more peripheral areas. One woman, whose presenting style could only be described as 'sub-Wilsonian',  was often  banished to the streets to report on violent incidents in Chesterton and Arbury. She seemed unperturbed and was possibly convinced a glittering career in TV journalism awaited. I've seen nothing more of her nor Jeremy Wilson since he left the programme. 

Soon after, That's TV Cambridge became amalgamated with other local 'That's TV'  branches, notably Norwich. Now it has devolved further and we have West Anglia That's TV. This covers places as far flung as Yaxley and Whittlesey and like the BBCs move to pan Regionalism, is undoubtedly the result of cost cutting. This is evidenced by the programming sinking to such low levels that it seems to broadcast endless repeats of the Benny hill Show, a programme I had imagined would probably  not be considered broadcastable in the 2020s. This newer version of That's TV may or may not still come from Cowley Road Studio. This information is as elusive as the current activities or whereabouts of its former presenter.The station may well now be run fully by computers.

The next notable point, not far along from the business park entrance was the appearance of the First Public Drain, emerging from a bifurcated concrete culvert having crossed  Milton Road and Science Park beyond. The graffitied concrete impressively marks this conjunction, although I couldn't figure out why it was split in two. As far as I know (and according to my map) there is only one drain.

The spot also marked the junction with Cowley Road, which runs parallel with the Drain and is the main route into the zone that contains the Cambridge Water Treatment Plant to the North and the business park and Cambridge North Station to the South. An impressive display adverts for businesses located on the Cowley Road industrial estate festooned the fence opposite from where I was standing. It was refreshing to see advertising with no reference to celebrities or any over the top attempt at 'brand identity'. This was straightforward honest stuff that could only exist at the periphery, where central notions of things like 'brand narrative' and other advertising industry pretentions carry little store.

 

Beyond, the road diverged away from Milton Road. The route ran almost parallel to Milton Road, cuting between  the St. John's Innovation business park to the West and the Water Treatment Works to teh East. The business park was new industry, featuring offices for tech firms and the building that houses (or at least did) the law firm Taylor Vinters. A friend once told me that among legal people the building was known as 'the Belgrano' due to its grey battleship like appearance and possibly because it produced an atmosphere of doom, being one of the more depressing looking buildings Cambridge had to offer at the time. 

 

I was drawn to the older dirtier industrial side. Just before the Sewage works, a large semi-dilapidated warehouse loomed up from behind the blackthorn. Next to it loomed even larger a communications tower and a pylon.

The path ahead towards the A14 was straight and long, stretching alongside The Western extremity of the Water Treatment Works. Much of the side was hidden, fully or partially behind the blackthorn bushes that proliferated in front of the security fence.

 

I passed an entry point. Although the gate was open, it felt very much that I was not permitted to enter. The warning signs indicated the main dangers ahead were humps in the road and pedestrians but the barbed wire that proliferated was no doubt to discourage the curious.

I passed some dwellings that sat the other side of the barbed wire fence, a row of three or four houses that had all the signs of being occupied other than any evidence of actual people. I guess these were where workers or security people lived. Further along, as I walked up the bridge that crosses the A14, to my left was a single dwelling in what looked like its own grounds (I couldn't work out if these were still part of the Sewage Works site of separate).I sumised that this must be the most peripheral location for a house I had encountered within the City boundary, sandwiched between the Sewage Works, the A14 and the Jane Coston Cycle Bridge. Again there was little sign of anyone at home. I wondered who lived in the mysterious dwelling, partially hidden behind scraggy trees and bushes; the last house on the left.

I paused at the mid point of the cycle bridge, at the point where the central reservation cut along the middle of the A14. The A14 marks the physical boundary between the City and the villages and Fenland that lie beyond. But at this point I was still inside the City boundary which runs along the Northern side of the A14  for a stretch that roughly coincides with the boundary of the Sewage works to the South. This is the only place where the City boundary reaches beyond the A14.

On my descent into the edges of the village of Milton  on the other side of the bridge, to my right was a some kind of aggregates works, while on the other, the all to familiar spire of a Tesco supermarket, located in an expansive shoppers car park with a petrol station. Both sites were typical of the sort of peripheral zone I was travelling through, although as I observed them they felt anything but mundane. The spire had a quality that I can only describe as sinister, mixed with a numbing futility. The sandy yard, with its tractors and cement mixers on the other hand brought to mind the sort of construction sites we used to play on as kids in the 1980s, in the interim period before a piece of land was turned into an  unspectacular development of Barret houses. The wet weather added a sort of dull Sunday afternoon feel to the atmosphere that was emanating from the site.

I soon found myself entering the Cambridge Road industrial estate, where a sign featured a simple graphic map of the few roads contained within and a list of the various concerns that were located on the site.

 

One of these concerns, Cecil Instruments, featured some impressive signage on its building which had the feel of something of both the future and the past. There was a 1960s Sci-fi atmosphere about it all. Cecil Instruments were founded in 1968 and according to a website called 'Laboratory Talk' are leading designers and manufacturers of HPLC Systems, Ion Chromatographs and UV/Visible Spectrophotometers. I don't know what any of those items are but they sound like things that might be talked of in The Men from Uncle or The Avengers.

 

Attempting to try and follow the city boundary as far as possible, I headed past the building following the road that pointed back towards the A14. Shortly afterwards this road turned left, where it ran parallel to the City Boundary, as near to it as I could get, and the other side the A14. The arrow on the sign for Christmas Trees showed me the way to go.

I passed a concrete GPO post, which appeared to be wearing a toupee of moss. These posts are usually found marking the route of underground telecommunications lines, from the period when the General Post Office ran what become British Telecom. The post, while a curious object in its own right, was a significant border marker. It marked not just the route of a communications route, but also sat at on the City boundary. 

The city boundary was also marked by the barrier of  hawthorn, bramble and other peripheral flora that ran alongside the road and partially hid a strip of no-mans land that acted as a buffer with the A14 which was elevated above it. The vegetative barrier was festooned with plastic bottles and other litter.  The volume of the detritus increased the further down the road as I walked. The most significant object among it was a dumped armchair, one of several objects too big to have come from car windows on the A14. 

I looked back as I walked and could see the green hoppers from the aggregate site, beyond the air conditioning unit festooned industrial building  I had just past. At the exact same spot on my return, something crossed my path. It resembled in my minds eye a black hound of some kind, but could just have been a muntjac. I had been walking for long enough now for some fanciful ideas to enter my head. That's what I told myself. The road was all but deserted, on a midweek lunchtime, and by the time I walked back from the dead end I found at the bottom it had developed a slightly menacing air.

 

I retraced my steps past Cecil Instruments, and turned into Milton Country Park. Large fishing lakes, previously quarries in a former industrial period, took up most of the park to the North of the 13th Public Drain. But I was more interested in the drain itself and the zone between it and the A14.

I followed the drain towards the confluence. It was crossed by a series of wooden foot bridges, helpfully signposted. This was just as well since the drain was devoid of water at the early stages, and without these markers would have easily been missed. Information online about the drain itself mirrored the lack of water, there was little to be found. I am not certain if it is a man made drain, which is not unlikely given its location in land in what would have been a mixture of farmland and semi-industrial use. But it wasn't entirely straight along it's course, which was quite long for a man made drain. Maybe it was a natural phenomena, just not deemed significant enough to be given a proper name. Apart from this and the 1st public drain I haven't been able to find any others on the map, which begs the question what happened to the others? Was there ever a 12th public drain? The number 13 is of course considered unluck by some and may have special properties. The 13th public drain was a significant boundary marker, not just at the confluence ahead, but also in its route which mimicked the A14, City Boundary and A14, forming another boundary marker at the Northern extremity of the City. The city Boundary could be changed by the whims of Government, but the A14 and the drain are physical barriers, acting as a restraint on the City, keeping it separate from the land beyond. At least for now. Its not unlikely the physical city will extend its reach beyond these in time, as it encroaches its reach. It already has the surrounding area in its hostage like orbit,  as the home counties (and Cambridge itself) are trapped in the gravitational field of London. 

Further along, the dried out bed showed signs of water and then became an actual brook. Its route took me to the Eastern extremity of the park, where 'private property keep out' signs started to appear along the side of a woody area.  Opposite this was a some agricultural land. I had emerged off the map displayed in the car park, into the zone of the confluence 

I soon reached the confluence, where I lingered for a while. This was the 'destination' I had set earlier in the walk and was the culmination of everything that preceded it. A hotspot of borders and boundaries and perhaps the most peripheral zone within the City boundary. Looking on the map, the boundary might have been drawn up to claim this place for the City.I could think of no other reason why the cartographer has decided to extend the boundary around it, in the shape reminiscent of an anvil or ducks head. But it felt like a place beyond the City and the reach of the University, tourism and science parks. I had reached the Terminal point of the City, which itself was beyond the City 

The place where I stood, near to where  the two drain joined, felt altar like. The background hum of the A14 provided meditative drone background music, which seemed suitably reverential. If I had been more organised and the walk planned, I would have brought an offering for Terminus and placed it at thi spot. As it was, the only recognition for the God of borders and boundaries was the two semi-permenantly graffitied tags on the concrete bridge. I couldn't make out what they said, but they seemed equivalent to stained glass windows, decorating the concrete boundary and shrine to Terminus and seemed significant.

The walk felt almost complete. It was my offering to Terminus. I headed towards the A14, to see if I could follow it and the City Boundary from the park back to the industrial estate, to finalise the proceedings 

The hum of the A14 became more audible as I headed through some scrubby wood and along a dog walkers path, denoted by black backs of dogshit hanging from trees. Soon I could see the zone that buffered the A14 from the country park. A continuation of the strip of no-mans land I seen from the industrial estate earlier, which sloped up towards the A14. This did not completely lack vegetation, but what there was of it consisted of sparse edgelandic flora. Scrubby grass, brambles and buddeia mingled with rubbish thrown from car windows. This zone belonged to the City, and marked the Northern extremity of its civic boundary. Why the City had claimed this strip was not clear. 

The private keep out signs became more prolific, and at the climax if this stretch one in particular resembled something from a desperate apocalyptic landscape from the not too distant future. It was hand drawn on an old piece of wooden board and the writing had an erratic quality. The sign could have been written by frightened survivors of some future terrible event, or represent a threat from a  semi-literate barbaric gang of Mad-Max rip off film ruffians. Or could just be the result of council cutbacks in the sign writing department. It's hard to see who else would own the land beyond, which had little or no practical use that I could think of. This zone defined the periphery. It was a place immune to development or gentrification, and undoubtedly off the mental map of most of the population of Greater Cambridge or anyone looking to further develop the 'vision' for the surrounding area. I lingered for a while, before heading off, back leaving the periphery for the City which knew little of the places I'd visited within its own boundaries.