Childhood memories

Today we returned once again to the place near Bradford, where I was born, brought up and lived most of my life. Sadly on this occasion it was for a funeral.

Perhaps it was something that was said during a very moving service that prompted me to want to visit a childhood haunt not far away.

Shipley Glen
To most people this is just a name of a place somewhere. To locals it is an area of heathland between woods and moors, just made for walking, playing, jumping on the great boulders, walking dogs, having picnics. To me the name is imbued with strong childhood memories of family days out.

In the event the visit was a little disappointing. The memories did not return. Then I realised that they had, over the years, been overlaid by memories of taking our own children there, of walking our own dogs there, even of taking school groups there.

Then I went to look at the old Tramway and all the memories came flooding back in an instant. I was a child waiting at the gate, in the little ticket office, sitting on the tramcar with my grandparents, waving at the people in the other car. It's all still there. The tramway is obviously a little the worse for wear. It has a history of neglect, falling into disrepair, being rescued - more than once. It now runs on a Sunday with the aid of volunteers. Apparently at the bottom there is a museum. I must visit that. There is a lot of information about this little two car cable tramway that, since 1895 has been taking people up to the Glen.

But for today it was sufficient just to see it and remember.