Unprepossessing heaven

It may not have been a thing of beauty, but to a Crickley digger at the end of a long, hot, hard-labouring day, the sight of the Ablutions block in the early evening was welcome together with the knowledge that soon you could scrub away the grime of the day. Even a wash in a basin was bliss, let alone the heaven of a shower on the days when it was your turn to have one. From Mike Sims 2004 end of Ullenwood series.

What are they waiting for?

A charming photo taken at Ullenwood in 1980 sent to C-H-M by Sue Lee Jeffs (now Bauman). L to R: Jo Bacon, Kate Gilbert, Sue herself and Lucy Loveridge. Now they're obviously waiting for something. Maybe the clue's above Jo's head. Was it a bed? Was it a man? Or did they hope to have a shower, but only on two nights out of three? Ullenwood was always full of possibilities.

The dormitories and ablutions

Click on image to enlarge

Ullenwood not quite as you ever saw it: a compilation of five of Mike Sims's photos taken in 2004 to create a panorama of the four dormitories and the ablutions block at Ullenwood: Dorms 4 & 3 on the left, the ablutions in the middle and dorms 1 & 2 on the right. At the very end on the right can just be seen the mess hall and the overflow dormitory.

You might remember this ....

After the picnic in August 2004 some of us were unable, on the way home, to resist a small diversion up Greenway Lane to examine the state of Ullenwood Camp. It was partly demolished and the scene of the devastation that greeted us I posted last July . Two rather better pictures, taken by Professor Dixon appeared in October and December. John Boden's picture of the ablutions, seen here in May, shows them in all their finery in their heyday, slightly foxed, in 1975.

This morning's photograph is of the sign that I retrieved from the sad wreckage as a memento. When I picked it up out of the rubble I imagined it in my mind's eye that it was on the outside of the ablutions block. J. B.'s photograph shows that my memory plays me false because the sign in his photograph reads "Gentlemen Ablutions" and is clearly in white letters on a blue background. So my souvenir either must have come from somewhere else other than the outside of the ablutions block (more likely) or the signage changed after 1975 (less likely). Perhaps it was on the entrance door itself? Or maybe there was another loo I've forgotten about.

Is this a ticklish question from Andrew Powell or a rash one?

Andrew Powell asks:

"Glad to hear that John Boden has been in touch. But his picture of the ablutions triggered a vague memory - concerning the luxuriant bed of nettles visible outside. My memory is of someone (no doubt Ferris/Phillpotts/Boden can identify the victim - something says Boden - but I may be way out) who on returning from an evening at the local hostelry mistook said bed for his own, and in a partially undressed state lay down in it, not fully appreciating the fact for some time - although by next morning I think he was aware of his error."

Ow. Ai-ai-ai-eeeouw.  Should not the verb perhaps have been "fell" rather than "lay"?  Perhaps it mattereth not. Gentlemen?

Andrew Powell muses ...

Professor Dixon illuminates this 1973 shot of Andrew Powell's: "the area to the south of the entrance. The square cut into the bank is cutting AIV of 1969, reopened in 1973."

Andrew himself says: "All this nostalgia gets me to reminiscing. Your blog says over 3000 people have dug at Crickley and while I am sure there is something about the Crickley Hill experience that most of us share - a common feeling about the place, the archaeology, the people, particularly Phil, even about the Ullenwood ablutions, I am also certain that each person has a different story to tell about what that experience meant.

When I first went to Crickley, for two weeks in 1971 (I think), I had just left school and was planning to study Scots law. This was my first experience of archaeology, and each subsequent summer while at university I came back to Crickley, where I met the likes of Ferris, Phillpotts, Boden, Roberts and many others, all of whom seemed to be having much more fun studying archaeology than I was, studying law. 

It slowly dawned on me that I was on the wrong career path, and after graduating I finally decided that a legal career was not for me (much to the relief I think of the Edinburgh solicitors who had offered me an apprenticeship – given my sober and respectable appearance at the time). 

However, with help and advice from Phil, including a very complimentary “To whom it may concern” reference (that I still have), I first got my first professional job in archaeology digging in Glasgow, and eventually a place at university to study archaeology. So Crickley was literally a life-changing experience for me – thanks to which I am a now highly remunerated, fat-cat archaeologist, rather than just another impoverished Scottish lawyer. Ho hum.

Has anyone mentioned the 1972 Fisher-Spassky World Chess Championship, which I remember being followed with great interest at Ullenwood? I recall there were a number of quite good chess players there; I was not one of them but I got quite interested. Or, a few years later, the group who, incomprehensibly (to many of us), would play Dungeons and Dragons every evening rather than amble down to the Air Balloon for a quick half of shandy."

May I apologise to Andrew for the delay in posting his amusing observations: he sent this note to me some weeks ago, but the after-effects of the general anaesthetic caused me to suffer from temporary amnesia?

The Return of the Bard of Grimsby ...

And so what the Seer of Selly Oak foresaw came to pass: in this post but five weeks ago Crickley Hill Man unkindly teased Dr Ferris and - doubtless libellously - suggested that he may have been drinking. But what Dr Ferris prophesied has come true and I'm delighted to announce to an adoring readership the return to the public eye of Mr John Boden, the Bard of Grimsby and cherished member of the Below Average White Band.

After an absence of more than 20 years, John has come out of retirement, dug around in his attic  and sent me, from 1975, the fruits of his brandishing of his Pentax.  Here, as he says, is clear photographic evidence of why 'The Ablutions' were called 'The Ablutions'.

It cannot be long before some imaginative and brave, not to say deranged, impresario puts up the funding to stage a comeback world tour for Ullenwood's favourite band.