After Badders

We go to the Final Whistle in Southwell, a railway-themed pub, next to the track bed of the former route from Mansfield to Rolleston Junction. The pub is very popular and has a good selection of real ales and guest beers on the go.

Though it’s a solid old Victorian building, it did not have any direct connection to the railway when the line was in operation. Over the road, however, is the station master’s house and the blue plaque on the adjacent former level-crossing gate post reminds us of the railway’s former importance to the town.

During the day time, the car park serves the Southwell Trail, the footpath and cycle-way which follows the railway’s old course. At night, it reverts to being a pub car park, though by the time we get there it’s often full. Chris drives on a Friday night, so she quite often has to practise her Reginald Molehusband manoeuvre out on the road before we try to locate an empty table.

In this fine summer weather, we go outside on the decking that is loosely modelled on a station platform, complete with canopy and dagger boards. Though the railway paraphernalia adorning the place is mostly mass-produced modern copies and made with just such venues as this one in mind, there are also one or two original artefacts and a few railway paintings on the walls. I believe that the one I have in mind is an original because it is not very successful, in my view, in representing the locomotive that it purports to resemble. It seems unlikely that it would be worthwhile making multiple prints of it.

I admit to some ambivalence, here. I admire anyone who is creative and then is prepared to effectively say to others, “Here it is, what do you think of it?” which is effectively what you do when you try to sell a book you have written or parade your own artwork. You have to be prepared for someone to tell you what they really think of it, never mind just not parting with any cash for it.

Perhaps the most hurtful response under these circumstances, though, is total indifference. Maybe it’s better to receive an unfavourable reaction than no come-back at all because it is not deemed to be worthy of comment. Criticism might, at least, prompt a reality check leading to a re-think and eventually to further development.

I’m vain enough to look at the number of “hits” on my blog each day before I go to bed, even after the pub at 1.00 in the morning. I suppose we all want to be noticed for having made an effort. So, I’m sorry if that painting is yours. I could explain why I don’t rate it, if that would help.

Only one person looked at my blog yesterday, so, thank you, whoever you are.