Ruislip Gardens Tourism — The Berkeley Close Ziggurat

Recently discovered, the Great Ziggurat of Ruislip Gardens towers over the casual observer begging for theories of its origins.

Don’t travel to see it, though.  It has been dimantled block-by-block for reconstruction in Birmingham.

Ruislip Gardens Tourism – The Great Chewing Gum Mound

The photo doesn’t do justice to the enormity of the Great Chewing Gum Mound of Ruislip Gardens, located about 2 meters northwest of the Berkeley Close bus stop on the Ruislip-bound side of West End Road.  It is merely the nature of the mountain snapshot to flatten the scenery, and the elevation attenuation is exacerbated as you approach the foothills of so vast a berg.

One of the wonders of this tourist trap (in the summer heat wave this year, “trap” could be taken quite literally as this transformed into something like a tar pit)  is that it is entirely man-made.  Primitive man, to be certain, but dedicated to the effort over several years.

The WEWS are just over a hundred meters away so you can double-dip on your tourism trip.  As you cross the peak of the GCGM, do marvel at the view of the surrounding landscape; if you find yourself parched on your descent, stop in at the Bell (but don’t try the Thai there unless you’re too pissed to go someplace better).

Ruislip Gardens Tourism – The WEWS

The West End White Stripes, or “The WEWS,” have baffled archaeologists for literally weeks.  Following the path of the National Rail and Transport for London bridge over West End Road, they are starkly similar to the intentional road markings at 30-and-60-degree angles to these ancient counterparts.

Or, they might just be pigeon shit.  The council needs to repair the netting on the bridge, to be sure; only then can we rule out the Avian Theory.

Recipe: PBJ&M

Crooked Path Home, indeed

First proper post of the new blog is all about a recipe that yields a feast for the mind.  Michael Pollan repeatedly describes the aftermath of ingesting this sort of feast as ineffable (defying description).  Philistine that I am, I had a rude definition in mind along the same lines as this one given by a panelist on “I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue,” vis:

Feckless: an Irish virgin

Tale of the times: everything reminds you of Brett Kavanaugh, Mark Judge, and Christine Blasey Ford

PBJ&M Sandwich

Ingredients:

Large, whole wheat bap

Peanut butter (crunchy has some textural advantages)

Blackcurrant conserve (or other tart jam or preserves)

Roughly 30 g mushrooms chopped coarsely (3 g if dehydrated are used).

I got my supply as the first batch from a wholesaler near Brixton — I served as the otherwise unpaid scientific advisor for this new farm and, I’m guessing, the guinea pig ahead of the new product rollout.

The crash gate on the north side of RAF Northolt currently blocked by fallen tree

While not precisely delicious, the acrid flavour and unpleasant texture of the mushrooms is quite effectively masked.  For a predawn breakfast, this provides both the energy and inspiration for a bit of a hike as the sun rises.

The Ruislip train depot: realised that the horns are made to sound like steam horns even though they are driven by electric fans.

It turned into a very productive morning, indeed.  I had tickets in the afternoon to hear a talk by the author Will Self; instead, both my Will and Self were obliterated.

Cracking and popping underfoot, a bed of tiny apples encouraged paying attention to my feet just before filtering through a herd of cows who seemed oblivious to my passing.

Much later in the day (the walk was a mere 2 hours starting about an hour after the breakfast), the first episode of the Jodie Whittaker incarnation of Dr Who was broadcast.  She’s very Tom Baker-esque, but with a healthy dose of David Tennant.  I’m so pleased … is that wrong, at my age?

 

 

In all, about 6½ miles walking and some very good realignment of my mental state — I’ve needed this.  Definitely the closest thing to a reunion with dear, old friends I’ve had in a few years.