SA, there is nothing so terrible to behold as a grassed over slagheap, like a bad facelift on a once handsome woman. I also yearn for the clatter of mineral wagons at the end of the street and the bark of the gas forge being lit at 6 o'clock on a dark and foggy November morning. A retail park now covers the railway and new townhouses replaces the forge.

CS, I take exception to municipal art as punctuation in a formerly industrial landscape, but that's a nice bit of stonework in a lovely spot. I was in Blakeney a fortnight ago and shall return soon.