A walk into Preston

Preston is Steve's home town. Most of his family still lives there, so every trip to the U.K. includes times spent there. We were staying with one of Steve's sister and her husband in Penwortham, a suburb of Preston. We decided to take a walk into the city centre on one particularly pretty day. These are the photos I took along the way.

Preston sits on the banks of the River Ribble. We crossed a foot bridge on our way and I noticed the normally serene Ribble was more than a bit turbulent. The bridge in the photo carries the gas mains into Middleforth (another suburb), which is to the right.

Lots of white water on the Ribble.

After we crossed the river, we followed the route that took us into Avenham Park. I was thrilled by the autumn foliage.

A bit more of Avenham Park. The tall building is an old hotel. And the statue is of the Earl of Derby, a patron of Preston whose family lived (and pretty much politically controlled) Preston for generations until it became a thriving mill town in the early 19th century and political power shifted from the landed gentry to the cotton mill owners.

The railway bridge over the Ribble.

The promenade of Avenham Park. Back in the 18th and 19th centuries, this was the place to be seen on a Sunday afternoon. The well-to-do would be out in their finest garb to promenade along the Ribble.

This access port bears the old Preston city seal with the "PP." Preston, as the name implies, was originally Priest Town and was home to a monastery of Grey Friars. The original symbol was of a lamb standing with a flag, which was the emblem of St. Wilfrid, the parish saint. When the parish switched its allegiance to St. John during the Tudor era, the town leaders sat the lamb down, which was the emblem of St. John the Baptist (apparently a different St. John). Local tradition holds that the "PP" stands for Proud Preston, but it is believed it actually stood for Princeps Pacis or Prince of Peace. The "PP" was removed from the official seal several years ago.

We discovered this interesting tree in Winckley Square, an area of Preston that was home to lawyers and judges during the 18th and 19th centuries. Although Lancaster is the county capitol in name, Preston was home to the county courts. Those are not vines growing on the tree. That's its actual foliage. It was like a weeping willow, but with different leaves.

We went to the Black Horse, Preston's oldest pub, for a drink when we arrived. I love the atmosphere in this pub. It's divided into all of these quaint little rooms, which was how pubs were arranged in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

If you're a Doctor Who fan, then you know that back in the 1950s and 60s, England had police call boxes. You could use them to phone the police. The Doctor's TARDIS is camouflaged as such a call box. The joke is the TARDIS is stuck in that guise and since these boxes haven't been around for decades, it's not very good camouflage. Police call boxes are obviously making a comeback as evidence by this high-tech number.  I posted this photo on Facebook and mused whether it was the Doctor's next TARDIS.

When we were done in town, we headed back to Penwortham a different way that took us over the top end of Avenham Park and along the Old Tram Road. The tram road was built in 1803 over the Ribble Valley to connect the area to the Lancaster Canal until the canal was completed. Alas, the canal was never completed. The Old Tram Road is now a popular cycling and pedestrian path.

As we walked down the steps, I noticed a pair of cannons; one on each side of the stairs. That was odd. Preston was not the site of any major battles. I said as much to Steve and then I saw a sign. These cannons are replicas two 36-pound Russian cannons that were brought back from the Siege of Sebastopol. They were presented to Preston in 1858 following the Crimean War, which involved the 30th and 47th army regiments that were based in Preston. After enduring the cruel winter of 1854-55, the Preston regiments played a key role in the siege of the Russian port of Sebastopol. The capture of this fort virtually ended the war. The cannons were a gift of appreciation.

Here's the other cannon.

I thought this barren tree was pretty neat looking. As you can tell by now, I do seem to have an unusual attraction to trees. I am attracted to their individual characters.

We stumbled upon this old distance marker. I don't know how old it is, but it's rather ornate and it was near the Old Tram Road, so . . .

A view of the River Ribble as we walked across the Old Tram bridge.

Part of the Old Tram Road. Like I said, it's popular with cyclist. It's a lovely walk.

As you can tell by the icky sky, I took this photo on a different day. This is the street on which Steve grew up in Penwortham. I wanted to snap some pics of the colorful trees. I'm standing in front of Steve's sister's house, looking toward his parents' house.

I'm a little further up the road here, and on the opposite side. See that big, beautiful tree spreading across the road? It's beyond the parked SUV. Steve's folks live across from it.

This tree is right across the street from Steve's sister's. It's also the bus stop, handy. What I loved about the tree is the contrast between the golden leaves and the vivid green ivy encasing the trunk.