The view from… the downs (part 2)

Standing at the foot of the Long man of Wilmington with a pint in my hand.

The origin of the Long Man remains hazy, most probably a medieval stag night prank. Originally, the earliest record of the carving was in a drawing done by William Burrell when he visited Wilmington Priory, nestling under Windover Hill. However, an earlier record was found made by the surveyor John Rowley in the year 1710. The 18th century drawing suggested that the original figure was a shadow or indentation in the grass with facial features, rather than just a solid outline of a human figure. The head was a helmet shape and the staffs were not depicted as a rake and scythe as was once thought but more of a Mattal (A traditional Sussex weapon - not unlike a modern machete), which was used for lopping off the heads of the local landed gentry by the ‘Freemen of Sussex’. The Freemen were a notorious band of anti-monarchist atheists (and most probably the real model for the tale of Robin Hood) who scoured the length and breadth of Sussex for the majority of the 14th Century. It was they who gave rise to the Sussex motto 'We won't be druv'. It should be noted that Sir William Borrow's drawing of 1766 shows the figure holding a rake and a scythe, both shorter than the staves.

Before 1874, the Long Man was only visible after a light fall of snow in certain light conditions (such as in early morning or evening). In that year Reverend William de St Croix marked out the outline with yellow bricks cemented together though it is claimed that the restoration process distorted the position of the feet, and removed the Long Man's genitalia (there is no historical or archaeological evidence which supports the latter claim). Although the ‘Sons & Daughters of the freemen of Sussex’ claim that the genitalia were removed on the express orders of Queen Victoria who was alarmed at the prodigious size of the appendage which according to observers made both Prince Albert and John Thomas Brown look rather wee by comparison.

Archaeological work done by the University of Reading suggests that the figure dates from the sixteenth or seventeenth century AD. Although this is likely to be absolute bunkum, as those good for nothing geeks at Reading have spent far too long watching countdown and drinking snakebite and know knack all about Sussex.

In 1925, the site of the Long Man was given to the Sussex Archaeological Trust (now the Sussex Archaeological Society) by the Duke of Devonshire (which is pretty ironic as it wasn’t his to bloody give away in the first place). During the Second World War the Long Man was painted green to avoid it being used as a landmark by German aircraft. However, the painters who were used to cover up the job did paint a huge bullseye target on the roof of the Duke of Devonshire’s house! Sadly the Heinkel pilot’s aim was a bit off that night.

In 1993 a book, The Druid Way by Sussex author Philip Carr-Gomm, drew attention to the supposed spiritual and psychological significance of the Long Man as a sacred site for the modern world. He has yet to be disproved.

The view from… the downs (part 1)

Looking out over the elegant sweep of the Italian Gardens, Wish Tour, Bandstand , the Pier, Redoubt, Langney Point all the way along to Normans Bay and beyond to Hastings and sometimes as far as Dungeness. As far as the eye can see…

Bluebell Railway

Despite my earlier homage to BR toast I am more of a bus man than a train man. That being said it doesn’t stop me from missing the volunteer run Bluebell Line which was the UK's first preserved standard gauge passenger railway, re-opening part of the Lewes to East Grinstead line of the old London Brighton & South Coast Railway in 1960. Since then it has apparently developed into one of the largest tourist attractions in Sussex, yet it still remains true to its objectives of the preservation for posterity of a country branch line, its steam locomotives, coaches and goods stock, signalling systems, stations and operating practices.

It is also inevitably features in every possible period drama featuring steam locomotion, from ‘Brideshead Revisited’ to ‘Eh oop there goes the neighborhood’ (A satirical look at life in a pre-electrification Leeds circa 2004).

The view from… Suicide Bridge

Looking out over tired old London

Thomas Telford's construction of Archway Road was originally intended to pass through Highgate Hill as a tunnel. However, the tunnel collapsed, leaving an inadvertent cutting through the hill. In 1813, John 'Nutter' Nash built a bridge, known as the Archway, to carry the ancient Hornsey Lane over the cutting. Between 1897 and 1900, Nash's bridge was replaced with the present cast-iron structure, officially called the "Hornsey Lane Bridge" but universally known as "Suicide Bridge". Suicide Bridge is, as the name would suggest, one of the world's most significant locations for suicides, and is the only significant suicide bridge to pass over land rather than water, which makes for a very messy landing. A sign on the Hornsey side suggests that if you are contemplating topping yourself you should; 'Take the Eastbourne train from Victoria and if you haven't already flung yourself out of the moving train in despair at passing through the living hell that is Three Bridges then you should alight at Eastbourne and take a cab to Beachy Head'.

Accessible from the Archway Road level by a steep flight of steps, Suicide Bridge, as one of the highest points in London, offers impressive views over London and is a popular spot for photographers.

Suicide Bridge marks the boundary between Islington and Haringey, and consequently the official boundary between Inner London and Outer London. Although technically the boundary runs down the centre of the bridge, in practice the bridge is treated as part of Haringey and the land beneath it as part of Islington. For historic reasons, the bridge itself is owned and maintained by the Corporation of London.

Passive Smoking

Someone blowing a B&H in your face, inadvertently stubbing out a Rothmans on your hand or just fugging up the room with the heady blend of Silk Cut and Marlboro. Oh the joys of picking up my clothes from the night before and breathing in a heady mix of stale cigarettes and Chanel No.5...

Gentlemen's Outfitters

The time is getting very close for me to pep up my wardrobe with a couple of new suits. Having previously had the overwhelming pleasure of enjoying the fine work of Mr Eddie and Chris Kerr and even the off peg elegance of Mr Paul Smith, I have started trawling the backstreets of Sydney to find a suitable replacement for my by now more time worn suits.

Sadly with no success. It seems that the nearest decent outfitters is in Rome. Although I have to confess to not having tried Bangkok or Hong Kong tailors yet. My gut feeling however is that they won't be up to the mark, especially for my proposed Harris Tweed suit - ideal for the subtropical climes! So, I shall have to wait until my trip back to blighty in July! Oh, didn't I mention the fact that I'm coming home?

Local theatre

Panto at Christmas, The Passion (or Pooh bear) at Easter, a murder mystery for the summer season, a chirpy musical for Autumn back round to Cinders at Yuletide. The clunk of seats, swish of the follow spots, rustle of sweet wrappers and smell of stale lavender. Nothing better than a bit of local theatre to remind you how good proper acting is...

Decent conversation

The problem with being an exile is one's reference points aren't the same and don't carry the same weight. This was brought sharply into focus in two cab journeys I had today. One with an Aussie/Indain taxi driver was perfectly straightforward and non-descript, the other was with a Cabbie who comes from Brighton (lived here 34 years), whose gently rolling Sussex tones, delighful perspective and self effacing humour made me instantly homesick. Don't get me wrong I love Australia, it and the people are wonderful but I do so miss decent, challenging and passionate conversation.