(The best thing about commuting to London, was the chance to try out the new high-speed service to St Pancras, which is a real treat, compared to the standard train journey. Folkestone is fortunate to be less than an hour away from London).

I thought I’d take my camcorder into the town centre, and, with the possible exception of the footage of the gargoyles on the church tower, film some of the urban backend of Folkestone, and put together a montage, with soundscape.

If you are planning to film from the top of the Asda car park, as I did, you may wish to know that it is necessary to get the permission of the landowner, first, as I didn’t. I was put right by someone from centre security.

I took my camcorder down to witness the shingle-shifting process…

…and the frenetic results are here for all to see…

Though this path is not  officially endorsed, it is there, nevertheless, and provides a much more direct route than the zig-zag path. As you make your way through the trees at the bottom of the hill, you cross the border into a, strange, enchanted land, where health and safety legislation holds no sway, and uneven-ness and decay reign supreme. Enter with caution!

In the meantime he has sent in this short piece on the closure of the Leas Lift. I have left it unedited as he made it clear that he wanted no alterations at all, having been irritated in the past by changes made to his articles by Shane Record editor of The Other Three Quarters, which he used to write for regularly.

The Closure of the Leas Lift

With little to do and not much stirring in the old brainbox in weather that reminded me of the time I was a young subaltern stationed in Ismailia, I ambled down to the Leas Lift last week to witness its closure, there were about a dozen of us, mostly elderly, and almost as many police. It is difficult to imagine why the police were there. Were they expecting hoards of us to rush the lift in a futile attempt to keep it open or were they perhaps frightened of us attacking representatives of the Radnor Estate or Shepway District Council? Well, officers of the latter and councillors were in short supply and though I accosted a young man, armed with a clip board, whose demeanour, dress and clipped accent betrayed him as a possible employee of the Radnor Estate, and asked him why he was there, he refused to tell me.

Meanwhile the police looked hot and bored and when, at the top of the lift, in my usual loud voice I gave vent to my anger at the behaviour of the council, a young policewoman perked up and eyed me as if to say “Hello Hello Hello, with any luck we’ve got a trouble maker ‘ere.” Not wanting to renew my acquaintance with the inside of a police cell since the unfortunate incident of the ballet dancer and the stirrup pump at the end of the war, I beat a hasty retreat to the bottom of the lift, where there were more police who however did nothing to stop me going into the building to witness the last descent. This had been somewhat delayed as one of the operators had omitted to fully close a valve and a man had to abseil down to the side of the carriage to adjust it, adding a touch of excitement to this rather muted closing ceremony.

However at last the carriage arrived and to begin with it seemed, to our great chagrin, to be empty. But eventually two rather shy young men were winkled out to be interviewed by the Meridian Television people and have their photographs taken. They were, like me and many others in the town, genuinely upset at the closure of this last remaining piece of Victorian Folkestone’s seafront, an indication of its stirring past.

It is becoming increasingly difficult not to lose patience with that shower of a council, who seem to care little for the glorious history of our town. The majority call themselves conservatives but apparently have absolutely no knowledge of the meaning of the word. I would like to remind them that according to the Oxford English Dictionary a conservative is “characterised by a tendency to preserve or keep intact and unchanged.” Perhaps they should start living up to their name.

Mr Nick Spurrier has kindly agreed to supply this link to his excellent article on the history of the Leas Lift.

http://kn.theiet.org/magazine/issues/0811/engineering-heritage-0811.cfm

The Leas is rightly, highly valued for it’s superb walks with views towards France over the Channel. I took this photo on my cameraphone, one autumn as the lamp-posts that line the path, were being painted. Obviously, this helps protect them from the elements, and keeps them looking nice, but holidaymakers and strollers are not the only seasonal visitors to appreciate the results of this maintenance programme.

Each spring, happy with the condition of the lamp-posts, several pairs of bluetits have been building there nests inside them. This typically bedraggled-looking parent has just returned with a morsel for the brood.

Having, first, landed on the bracket below…

…it then flies in through the tiny hole in the side…

to deliver the latest food parcel.

Sometimes I’ve seen them fly in one side, and out the other, or perhaps when one parent arrives at the front door, the other flies out the back door for more supplies. In this instance, the parent re-appears at the same hole, hesitates, and checks the coast is clear…

before flying off to hunt for more chick fuel.

For the summer of 2004, Folkestone’s shingle beaches were out of bounds, as contractors worked round the clock, bringing rocks in on barges at high tide, and distributing and shaping them into pre-designed formations at low tide. Another fully loaded barge would often be seen anchored off-shore, ready for the next hgh tide.

The caterpillar tractor on board the barge, would shovel the rocks into the sea. They, of course, would sink without trace, in a dramatic illustration of the difference in height of the water at high and low tides.

Often this activity would be taking place at night, and the clanking and splashing could be heard up in the town.

At low tide, the rocks were individually moved and placed with painstaking precision, to build the formations that have become so familiar.

The Spacious and Gracious team enjoying Folkestone’s beach last November.

For a thoroughly informative account of the sea defences from Dover to Dungeness, by Nick Spurrier, Click here

The basis for the piece was to provide facts about the much unloved birds, and offer information about the evolution, ethnology, natural history, environmental status and folklore of these remarkable animals. A handy pocket guide was also available, from the bowels of this oversized gull, offering more instruction to hopefully change the minds and opinions of the non gull lovers.

The work gathered mixed opinions from locals and visitors alike, some thinking it was stupid and a waste of money to others revelling in the concept and asking questions to the on-board experts.

But now our gull has fallen on hard times, languishing in a gated off car park by the now empty coastal watchtower, gazing towards the Burstin Hotel, the future looks bleak for our once famous artwork.

Don’t fret, we have a plan. We want the gull to take up residence in a new home, and have been scouting out locations in Folkestone, to find somewhere beautiful where she can relax and enjoy the view.

We really think this could be an excellent attraction/talking point for the town, and would put a good use to this piece of work, before possible vandalism or the tides of time take their toll.

Find below a few of our ideas for a potential new home :

How about on the top of the multi storey car park just above Asda?

Or possibly atop the Saga building just by the bus station?

The apartments above Pelosi’s could also be an excellent location.

How about above Phones4u, keeping an eye on the centre of the town?

Or my favourite, at the very top of the stairwell on top of Number One The Leas. To me, it’s the perfect location.

Do you have any other locations where our gull can reside? Please do send them in.

Folkestone has shrunk!! Well, maybe not.

This is a photo of Folkestone manipulated using a tilt shift technique, this technique makes the subject/s in the photo seem miniature.

Tilt Shift was originally realised using a special lens, but can now be achieved using imaging software and a few special touches, but it’s not always that easy. Only certain photos lend themselves to the process, normally when a high vantage point can be taken so the viewer is ‘looking down’ on the subject.

Folkestone lends itself to this due to the beautiful views down onto the beach and the old Dome / amusement area, from the Leas, as well as other areas.

See an example below :

Another photo which shouldn’t really have worked but did, was this shot of the Leas Lift on a bright sunny day. Taken from a very low perspective, it managed to achieve the same effect.

You can help the illusion by upping the colours on the photo, giving it a glossy/plastic feel, reds and greens work especially well.

To see some more Folkestone based tilt shift photographs, take a look at my Flickr set here, and I would also recommend googling the term Tilt Shift or taking a good look around Flickr as there are some amazing manipulated photographs out there.

P.S : Here is a favourite of mine, a small boat photo taken on a glorious day down Folkestone harbour.

Get shrinking down the world with this handy guide and please do send in any of your own examples, we would be happy to see them.