My Great Photographic Adventure in Great Wakering (Part 1)
Great Wakering is a small village in Essex, set forty miles east of my base when using my crude mapping system. My adventure began long before I took my camera out of the bag…
Because of the distance I figured it would be better to stay the night, and make the most of the destination. From working out my route I found the nearest railway station geographically was Thorpe Bay. I was a little relaxed about how I would get from Thorpe Bay, and set myself some options: either hope there was a bus, take a forty minute (or more) walk with my kit, tripod and overnight stuff, or potentially get a cab if I could source one…
My route to Great Wakering was convoluted: first I travelled to Peckham to collect a Hasselblad I was hiring from a young man via the sharing-site Fat Llama. (Check them out if you need to hire pretty much anything.) By the time I’d walked from Peckham Rye to the ‘hire house’ and back to the station, nature was calling! The lavatories on the platform were closed, so I headed to Fenchurch Street, where I would be catching the mainline train to Thorpe Bay, and made a beeline for the loo. As I awkwardly bashed my way through the connecting doors, due the size of my baggage, I was confronted by a line of four women, who were waiting to use the only functioning toilet. There were smiles and tuts, and then a conversation started about the lack of public conveniences in general. I had assumed that the three older ladies present were all friends, but it turned out none of them knew each other. Two of the women had come from the Southend direction, which was the way I was about to head. I told them I was going to a place called Great Wakering, but that I hadn’t quite worked out my route from Thorpe Bay station. As luck would have it, one of the ladies told me that she had a friend in Great Wakering and explained that the best way to get there involved getting the train to Southend, following her walking route, and taking the the number 7 or 8 bus directly to the village of Great Wakering, priceless! It took six hours to reach my destination, so that tip off was a much appreciated example of serendipity.
I was due to stay at the home of a married couple. They could not be there when I arrived, but instead had sent me a list of cryptic clues to follow, which led me firstly to a key to the Lean-to conservatory, followed by a key to access the house. This really was an adventure!
After dumping my things, and taking a breather, I headed out to see what I could find. I soon discovered that the main artery of Great Wakering was in fact the main road that ran in a (mostly) straight line, and had all of the village’s amenities on it: two convenience stores, two pubs, two cafes, to name a few. There is a sprinkling of smaller roads set off the main road, but it wasn’t far before I would have been in the jurisdiction of Little Wakering. I haven’t researched the actual boundary markers, but this was what my instinct, and some of the local people implied.
I took a few pictures along the road, sussed out which cafe I would go to for breakfast, and got some inside-information from a man who was trimming his borders, whilst talking him into posing for a photograph!
Both cafes and most shops were closed for the day, so I headed back to my base, and met one of my hosts, Sarah, who was a school teacher, and very much ready for the summer holidays which would soon be here. We shared anecdotes and I asked about where I could go for dinner. By this time Tom, her husband was home, and they told me that there were two pubs in Great Wakering: one was good for food, whilst the other one had a better atmosphere. With that in mind, I headed to both: ordering Chilli Con Carne and a glass of red wine in one, and moving on to see what was happening in The White Heart.
I ordered a glass of wine, and went to sit in a position that allowed me to soak up the atmosphere from a short distance. The jukebox was playing some soulful tunes, and a group of well acquainted locals shared stories and banter around the bar. My hosts weren’t wrong - this pub was way more lively, so much so that I asked the barmaid for a pen, so I could make some notes!
Until the next instalment, Amanda ;-)