Bootham’s red phone box, as night falls, 25 June 2019

I wondered many times over the years, when passing this phone box on Bootham on my walk to and from town, if it might be under threat of removal at some point.

I realised recently that there’s a notice in it saying it’s to be removed.

BT sign inside Bootham’s red phone box

The notice has a date suggesting that it’s been in there for quite some time, so perhaps it’s too late to do anything to retain this handsome and iconic structure, but I hope not.

The phone inside it may be seen as virtually redundant, though it’s not totally redundant. I remember one night not so long ago that it was used by a very distressed woman I met while walking into town, who needed to ring a family member and needed some help in that situation.

The kiosk is still illuminated from within at night, and it’s particularly handsome and cheering, and somehow comforting that it is still lit up. It’s something I only properly appreciated recently, so dashed up there again after dark to take the photo at the top of this page.

Here’s how it looked one dull December day, just after getting a new door.

Bootham’s phone box in December 2013, with a replacement door

These old kiosks are proper handsome things in our streets, where they survive.

Other phone boxes like this have been reused, or ‘adopted’, providing other services and facilities, and perhaps this one should be too?

The sign inside it doesn’t say when it’s likely to be removed or if there have already been any offers to ‘adopt’ it for other uses.

A mental health support kiosk … ?

I was thinking about things I’d read about other phone boxes and their reuse, and how this might be connected to a specific need in that particular place.

So in view of its location, at the edge of Bootham Park Hospital, just outside the railings of that place that was for so long providing mental health care, and no longer does, perhaps if it could be retained it could have a connection with that. Perhaps a small library of books and leaflets to offer help and comfort in times of mental distress, perhaps messages of support written by passers-by attached to its walls and windows. Perhaps a little comforting haven for people to pop in to when feeling like everything’s got too much. Perhaps just something for some of the city’s residents who might have been looked after in the big grand building just inside those railings, once upon a time, before its rather brutal closure.

If there are plans to adopt it, reuse it, and you know about them, please add a comment.

. . . . .

York Stories is a resident’s record of York and its changes. Thanks for your virtual coffees in support.

The post The end for Bootham’s red phone box? appeared first on York Stories.

Bootham Park railings and gate, 14 August 2004

Having just visited one of the sites recently suggested as a place where a replacement for Bootham Park Hospital could be built, let’s head off to that building on Bootham.

It’s quite a walk, as the map at the bottom of this page shows.

Arriving at Bootham Park’s front entrance we might notice its railings and gates, pictured above. In 2004 when I took that photo they were looking a bit rusty and neglected. They’re now looking even more rusty and neglected. They’re a very obvious indication of some of the difficulties regarding the maintenance and upkeep of a large historic building.

The railings don’t really matter. The buildings inside them are what matters. And whether they’re fit for purpose, or could be made to be. But at the moment we’re on the periphery of the site, in the first of several approaches to it.

A few months back, signs appeared on these rusty railings, as I noticed on a walk through the hospital site in the evening on the day it closed.

Sign on Bootham Park Hospital railings, 1 Oct 2015

They were tied on at regular intervals. The situation was threatening enough, without officious signs. And I say that from the perspective of someone who wasn’t using mental health services and wasn’t directly affected by the closure of the hospital.

I walked past many times in the following weeks, and wondered about complaining about them. Partly because I think there are rules about this kind of thing in a designated Conservation Area, and partly because they seemed aggressive and unnecessary, and just really pissed me off. Clearly others thought the same, as they appear to have been ripped off forcibly and kept appearing on the ground.

Despite the signs, the site itself wasn’t all locked up that evening after the hospital had closed. I walked through it, and took a few photos. As I have on many occasions before and since. I’ve been wanting to write about this for some time.

More later, as we get beyond the signs and the rusty railings and gates.

For now, here’s a rough indication of the distance between Bootham Park and the site at Clifton Park/Rawcliffe recently suggested as a possible location for a replacement facility.

The post Approaches to Bootham Park, part 1 appeared first on York Stories.

In Bootham Field (Bootham Park), 1866. © City of York Council, York Images

The city archives have a number of photographs of this impressive building, a temporary exhibition hall built in the grounds of Bootham Park — Bootham Field, as it was called back then — for the Yorkshire Fine Arts and Industrial Exhibition of 1866. It opened in the summer and ran until the autumn.

© City of York Council

The shadow of the photographer, William Monkhouse, is visible on this one. He was clearly impressed, as he took many photographs of the building, exterior and interior. (See ‘more information’, below.)

It would of course have been quite a long and more complicated process, in 1866, taking these photographs with the type of camera available then.

It was much easier for me, with my compact digital camera, to record the same view in April 2015. From where the Scarborough line passes under Bootham, looking at the front of Bootham Park and its railings:

The railings (and accompanying supporting wall and stone piers) are listed. They date from 1857-8 and, like so many railings in York, they were manufactured by the Walker foundry.

They’re very rusty, and some of the stone piers between have lost their ball finials. Clearly the trees and ivy have grown in the intervening years and the street has acquired a phone box.

Less immediately obvious, but apparent when comparing the photographs from 1866 and 2015, it would appear that the railings originally extended further, that the wall over the railway line was shorter. It now seems closer to the old iron gates.

It’s clearly a while since those gates were opened. How long, I wonder. Does anyone remember them open?

Continue along towards town and you reach another set of rusty iron gates, the main entrance to Bootham Park, allowing access through the grounds.

Between these two sets of rusty gates there was, until recently, a very handsome horse chestnut tree. After I wrote about that, a friend mentioned that they’d noticed on the ground nearby a length of rusty chain, and wondered what it had been used for.

Further investigation revealed that the chain was attached to something underground. And that there were actually several of them.

They’re roughly in a line along the front of Bootham Park, under the trees, a few metres back from the railings.

Walking into the open area of Bootham Park and looking back towards Bootham it seems that this area is slightly raised. What’s under there? Why are there lengths of rusty chain coming out of the ground under the trees?

If you’re interested in these rusty relics and fancy going to have a look for yourself, please be careful about what you’re treading on. That area is one of the few things left alone around here, it hasn’t been reinvigorated, it has the natural vigour of a place where plants and trees do their thing without being unnecessarily interfered with. It may just look like scruffy weeds and litter, but in the next few weeks it will fill up magically with springtime growth and even wild flowers, and they’re just emerging now.

So please tread softly, and don’t squash the cow parsley.

More on that story later.

More information

William Monkhouse’s photos of the 1866 exhibition building (interior and exterior) and accompanying notes on the impressive exhibits

Information on the grade II listed gateway, gates and railings

The post Bootham Field and its rusty relics appeared first on York Stories.

Before we wander off away from the Bootham area, where we’ve spent the the last few pages, I must mention this detail I noticed on the corner of Bootham and Marygate. A new sign marking the ‘HAMLET of st MARYGATE’.

Which is interesting in itself. Well, it is if you find local details like signage interesting. And though an interest in such things used to lead to you being told to ‘get a life’, it’s quite trendy now to care about these things. So presumably I can share without shame this photo I took in 2006 of the earlier sign, which said something slightly different. It was very faded, but it’s just about clear on this digitally enhanced image that the old sign read ‘HAMLET OF ST MARY’S’. It seemed rather quaint and charming.

So when I saw the new one I assumed they’d made a mistake. I got really irritated and thought ‘more money wasted’ and rolled my eyes and did that cursing the council thing.

Later I Googled ‘Hamlet of St Mary’s’, assuming I’d turn up various old documents containing this phrase. But I didn’t.

St Mary’s Tower, July 2014

I did though find several references to ‘Hamlet of St Marygate’.

Which suggests that the new sign is more historically accurate than the previous one. The old sign had acquired an air of historical accuracy mainly perhaps because it looked old and carefully crafted. Like those 1970s cobbles in King’s Square.

I don’t have the time to investigate this mystery of the misnamed hamlet. If anyone has any background information please do add a comment.

It will take me a while to adjust to liking the brightness of the new sign, which is now the most prominent thing if you’re looking across from Bootham, so your eyes aren’t drawn so much to the whole picture, the street behind, the verge and the phone box.

On that subject, before we head off from the hamlet, another photo from the York Civic Trust annual report of 1946-7, showing the view of this corner from a different angle, a little way down Marygate.

 (The caption invites us to compare it with the ‘photo opposite’. The photo it refers to can be found on the page on the Bootham rest garden.)

And how this scene looks in the 21st century:

A bit tidier than it was.

The wall and tower still look a bit ‘ragged’, of course. We might assume that all this visible damage is the result of the assault on the tower and wall in the siege of 1644. But the more we look deeply into the multi-layered history of the city the more we realise that it’s risky to rush to judgement about what is ancient or authentic or historically accurate. There were houses built here later, against these walls. They were then demolished in their turn. So are the rough-looking parts all siege damage or are they from the building and demolition of the houses once built right up against these older structures?

I can’t answer that question, but I can recommend a read of my ebook for a deeper exploration, a historical appreciation, of this location and many others, in a walk around 17th century York.

Next we head towards the city centre, and more observation of 21st century York.

If you’re interested in 20th century history — a few years ago I compiled from dusty volumes of council minutes some notes on the history of a wartime hostel (aka ‘the hutments’) built during the Second World War on the land behind this wall (and since demolished): a history of the ‘hutments’.

. . . . .

This page was sponsored by a reader. Thank you.

The post The hamlet of St Marygate appeared first on York Stories.

Bootham the evening before the big bike race

I know from conversations with friends that I’m not alone in being surprised at how much I enjoyed the whole TdF thing. It really did bring the community together, more than anyone expected, I think. More than any other event I can think of. Some further thoughts on that towards the end of this page.

First some appreciation of the way the buildings of Bootham were beautified by so many householders and businesses. This page is an accompaniment to the photos included earlier.

From handmade bunting to businesses making the most of the advertising opportunity, early July saw a wide range of decorations, individual, often handmade, some witty and some beautiful. Many aesthetically pleasing combinations of bunting in different colours, different flags, against stone and red brick, on black railings.

Bunting on Bootham, June 2014

It started in a fairly low-key way. Walking into town one day in mid-June I passed a City of York Council van parked up in front of Bootham Park, with workmen attaching the since familiar ‘jersey’ bunting to trees and lamp posts. On the walk back I found it had spread further up Bootham and looked particularly good by St Mary’s Tower. (Are you wondering why it has that ragged join on the Bootham side? Read this ebook …)

Things then seemed fairly quiet and uneventful until a few days before, when I noticed a definite embrace of all things ‘Le Tour’ on more and more of the buildings I passed on my way home from town. As my earlier attempts by St Mary’s Tower had proved, it’s quite difficult to take decent photos and enough of them when you’re struggling back from town with a load of bags of shopping. Proper walking and looking and photo-taking has to be an unencumbered thing. So I went back later a couple of times to record how my local patch was welcoming and celebrating the imminent arrival of Le Tour.

Bootham window, reflections

On the evening of 5 July, the night before the riders would be passing down Bootham, I happened to catch perfect evening light, at the perfect time. At this time of year it’s full and rich and lasts so long into the evening and I know that it falls beautifully onto the Georgian elegance of Bootham.

I’ve never watched the Tour de France, doubt I ever will, have no great interest in it. Though that morning on the radio I’d listened with interest to people talking about it, and I’d tried to understand its complexities regarding who gets various jerseys and why, via some informative snippets on BBC Radio York, but when it came through I had no idea of any particular names of those impressively fit men on bicycles, just remember the colour and movement suddenly filling the road that had been empty grey tarmac for so long while we waited, how it was more colourful than I’d expected, multicoloured, like a load of butterflies. But very manly butterflies. On bikes. (That doesn’t really work does it. It’s like Alan Partridge’s cattle on bikes.)

TdF bunting on Churchill Hotel railings

Anyway, where were we … ah yes, on Bootham. Of course. I realise that Bootham gets a lot of attention on these pages, but that’s because it’s the road I know best. But seeing it all decorated was like seeing it afresh. What was most interesting, and it seems to have been the same across Yorkshire, was how the opportunity to decorate on the ‘Tour de France’ theme was so widely interpreted. In this one street of Bootham, I noticed different choices of bunting. Redmayne Bentley stockbrokers favoured the union jack. I’ve never seen it as a particularly beautiful thing, but noticed that the combination of union jack bunting on the dark stone gateposts of the Churchill Hotel was one of the handsomest things in the street, and took many photos, attempting to do it justice.

Churchill Hotel gatepost and bunting

It had never really registered that 61 Bootham is the home of the Alliance Française in York until I saw their fabulous flag and bunting and decoration draped across the front of it, and bunting hung from the side window too. All lit by that warm evening light on 5 July.

Alliance Française de York

The national flags were in general overshadowed by the more widely used TdF bunting, and a general theme of yellow. Impressive bunting stretched across the railings at the front of Wandesford House was clearly handmade, from yellow gingham. This building is one of the oldest in Bootham (many earlier buildings were destroyed in the siege) and was built as a home for older single women. Impressively, centuries on, it still is. (But some things change — language does, thankfully — this building used to be called ‘the old maids’ hospital’.

The ‘old maids’ have a good sense of humour. On the day itself I noticed a new TdF decoration on the railings: a walking frame painted yellow and decorated, with attached hanging basket. A witty variation on the ubiquitous yellow bikes and a clever reminder, as the fit young men sped by, that we have many different ways to get about, and that the majority of us will never reach their impressive levels of mobility.

Yellow walking frame, Wandesford House

There were a few spray-painted yellow bikes on Bootham, and of course everywhere else. But the handsomest bikes were in the window displays of several shops, particularly Priestley’s at No. 36 and the Garden of Eden florist next door. (See the photo gallery.) Bikes surrounded by flags and flowers.

Window box on a Bootham windowsill, 4 July 2014

Flowers also featured further down the street in touches of yellow in hanging baskets and window boxes. On the evening before the event I noticed, in one of the private houses on Bootham a huge bouquet of yellow blooms carefully arranged in the bay window.

Several businesses made the most of the advertising opportunity, most noticeably Smiths Gore, with massive banners in triplicate including their website address very clearly. All the cafes and food shops not normally open on Sundays had large signs in the window saying that they would be, which was no doubt welcomed by the hundreds of people lining the street all the way from Bootham Bar to Clifton Green. Fabulous aromas rose from the open door of Dough, a new occupant of 73 Bootham, displaying classy union jack bunting made of fabric rather than plastic.

Dough, 73 Bootham, 5 July 2014

That shops and hotels made an effort to decorate their premises is perhaps not surprising, but it was surprising how enthusiastically many of them did it, how lavishly, and also how many people, residents who had nothing particular to gain, had entered into the spirit of it, enthusiastically decorating their frontages. I’ve never seen anything like it.

When I cycled through one of York’s suburban areas a few weeks back, near the start of the World Cup, I saw some enthusiastic World Cup themed house decorations, huge England flags hanging out of windows. But you’re only going to do that if you’re a massive fan of football. The ‘yellow fever’ seems to have had a much wider reach, taking in people who have no particular interest in the TdF, or sport in general.

And that’s what friends have said, that they were surprised by how enthusiastic they felt by the time the event actually arrived. People who said that they might stand up and look out of the window for the couple of seconds when it passed were actually to be found on the day hanging out of the window an hour before waiting for it to arrive. The atmosphere on Bootham was buzzing, and from the photos I’ve seen it looks similar everywhere those riders went through.

So why did this bring so many people together, even people who don’t generally feel drawn in to a sense of ‘national celebration’ about other events? We didn’t have to all get behind a national flag, for a start, which helps. So though you may have demonstrated your allegiances with your choice of bunting, you could also display plain yellow bunting or balloons or flowers or paint a bike yellow. So it was something everyone could gather round? Is it perhaps because the focus was on York/Yorkshire, does that make it easier to gather everyone in? Yorkshire is well-known for its strong sense of regional identity.

It seemed to take in everyone, seemed properly inclusive.

Certainly I loved the creative responses I’ve seen in recent weeks. I’d love to know your thoughts on the event and the build-up to it if you were here in York. If you watched us on the TV or online, how did we look?

. . . . .

This page was sponsored by a reader of this site. Thank you.

The post How we welcomed Le Tour appeared first on York Stories.

This page was sponsored. Thank you.

The post And we were all yellow appeared first on York Stories.