From Pease Pottage To Povey Cross — Part 3
Following the Old (and New) A23 Through Crawley From South to North — London Road
I’m now on London Road. B&Q is on the mini retail park. Many years ago, whilst in a previous relationship and living in Pound Hill, I had been sent to buy paint, wallpaper, and many other decorating related items late on a Friday night of a Bank Holiday weekend. The member of staff who served me wished me a cheery farewell with an ‘enjoy your Bank Holiday weekend’ message. Hardly likely when it was obviously going to be spent decorating.
It was good to see that the picture framers still survives behind the hairdressers and barber’s shops. I don’t nip in and ask if there is any chance they still have the large ancient map of County Clare I deposited there in 2006 to be framed and never picked up.
This block of flats was one of the places I went to see when I first moved to Crawley. A ground floor unit was being advertised as a one-bedroom flat. They were doing so only by virtue of a frosted glass divider had been put up to split the studio flat space. Neither side of the partition gave enough space to store anything, let alone the large volume of books and records I had. Plus, it was on ground level leading out onto the main road, with what looked to be easy access to any passing n’er do well.
I ended up moving into Tushmore Gardens, which I take a quick detour off to take a look at as I continue up London Road. This had loads of storage space and I really liked living there. It was the last of various places I had been shown. These had included a shrine to pine small corner house in Ifield, and another small corner house in deepest darkest Maidenbower which its current occupant was going for the record for most discarded pizza boxes left on the floor in every room. My only surprise about that was that it was a female occupant.
As I cross to get around the Tushmore Gyratory I can see the Crown Plaza on the other side of it. The site of a couple of very messy Christmas parties. The first one was so bad I never made it to the meal having eaten nothing all day and then starting on shots and pints at half three wasn’t the best idea. The following year we were there again, only this time my then other half chaperoned me to site to prevent pre drinks drinks. But it was the post drinks drinks that meant I didn’t make it home, ending up crashed on a sofa in someone’s room using their clothes instead of blankets.
Along this stretch are some more nice Tudor houses, mainly hidden by fences and walls and no one realises they are there as they rush past in their cars.
And some of the older houses also have their original cottage names still up under the eaves.
The handwash place on the corner of Tushmore Lane used to be a twenty-four-hour Texaco garage, and my local stopping point when I lived in Tushmore Gardens and had the need for unhealthy food options on the way home from town. I knew all the staff and they were all nice and friendly.
Which is more than can be said for the people who ran the other local shop. The first time I went in (because the garage was temporarily closed as they were having a fuel delivery), they followed me around the shop watching what I was doing like a kettle of hawks. After which I avoided it if I could, but they would do the same thing whenever I went in. I wondered how they stayed open if they did that to anyone who went in.
The Toby Carvery sits in Jordan’s Barn, another listed building.
The start of Manor Royal is across the road, and behind it sits one of the Thales buildings. A company for which I spent at least eight years pronouncing its name to rhyme with whales, and not as tal lez.
On the corner of Martyr’s Avenue is the grand Islamic Centre, and I walk on past it, and resist the temptation for another slight detour, this time to see Old Martyrs. The lack of a detour is something of a surprise to me as I can’t usually resist.
And there is County Oak, and the retail park, with the industrial area behind it. Named after the tree that stood close by. It being called the county oak as it marked the border between Sussex and Surrey before the boundaries were changed in 1974 following the 1972 Local Government Act.
On the other side of the road is the large, new Elektra building. I’m still waiting to see if there will be any other buildings named after X-men appearing in Manor Royal.
In the middle of the roundabout is the big rusty looking M, but side on it gives the impression it could be a part of a larger funfair ride.
And on the corner is Astral Towers. A place that makes me wonder if I was losing my mind at some point in the past. The first time I ever visited Crawley was in 2005. Some numpty had cut through all the main comms lines in Princess Street in Manchester. I worked for Capita which was doing the outsourced payroll for 24/7, but we couldn’t connect to the servers to do anything as we had no comms. So, we all came down to work out of Stephenson Way. We stayed at the Holiday Inn, which I could swear was where Astral Towers is now. But people tell me, no, it must have been where the Crowne Plaza is, but I distinctly remember the journey from the hotel to the office and passing the roundabout where Crowne Plaza is now, and then turning onto Kilnmead at the next roundabout, as that’s where AA maps told us the postcode given for Stephenson Way was. Plus, the layout inside was all different to how the Crowne Plaza is. Yet I’m told I’m imagining things, and therefore question my sanity, or at least play it off against my alcoholic years’ recollections.
Once past the roundabout and Astral Towers there are buildings on either side of the road which are very much of their time. So much so that in bright sunshine you could almost imagine them being on a side street in Benidorm.
There is a plot of land beyond which never got built on. When my company was looking at moving out of its London buildings, the plot of land was mooted as a new office. It never happened, and it looks as if the building never did either.
This stretch of road is another that could easily be mistaken for a motor speedway track. The cars whizz past the narrow path. Across the road is the Gatwick Manor. Another location of Christmas parties over the years, but nowhere near as messy as the Crowne Plaza ones.
I haven’t crossed over as it would mean crossing back up at the roundabout, where without and traffic lights to slow the speedway, it is a bit dicey. Only for me to get another couple of hundred yards up the road and for the footpath to come to a stop and for me to have to cross the road, as there is no way I’m walking on the road with approaching traffic coming from behind. Instead, I cross to the central reservation, fight my way through the trees and bushes in the middle and then across the other side and continue along the skinny path there.
At the roundabout I cross back over and there is a London Road sign hidden in the undergrowth.
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