Mk II Golf catches fire in Fremington

THERE was drama in Fremington on Tuesday evening when a car burst into flames on a busy residential street.

At around 6pm Mike Tetley's Mark II Volkswagen Golf caught fire on the junction of Elmlea Avenue and Oaklea Crescent and was ablaze for around five to ten minutes before the fire service arrived to extinguish the fire.

Mr Tetley said he had just left his house and was turning the vehicle around when it suddenly caught fire. He said: "I heard the car back fire and didn't think too much of it but my mate Jason shouted to me that the back of my car was on fire."

Mr Tetley jumped out of the car and within a minute it was engulfed with flames, he said. He also said that while the car burned there were several loud explosions. Mr Tetley's friend, Jason Wonnacott, who lives on Elmlea Avenue, called the fire brigade.

Smoke poured from the vehicle and a crowd of around 100 residents came out to watch the fire, before the a fire engine turned up. Three firemen wearing breathing apparatus put out the fire using a hose and carbon dioxide extinguishers.

The car was eventually removed, leaving burn marks and deep holes in the tarmac where the fire melted the road surface.

CSI North Devon

I was glad to see old Charlie Street up and about the other afternoon. I was doing a bit of weeding on the old bank behind my place when I heard him calling up from down below on the cycle path. He made a joke "You can come and do mine when you've finished that".  I told him he couldn't afford me. Jokes a joke. As I was just finishing up I asked him if he wanted to come in for a drop or two of the Ostlers that I was given at the wassailing do a few weeks back. Lovely stuff. Charlie wheeled his bike in and we sat down on the porch with our juice and a view out over the Taw delta. I was happy enough to sit there in the glorious spring sunshine and take it all in while Charlie mumbled and muttered on about his recent aliments. Turns out he'd been off his legs for sometime, some sort of mystery virus, shingles or something. They couldn't do anything for him up at the NDI but after spending a while up at Exeter he was now on the mend and glad to get back on his bike. I told him he looked the picture of health and he'd be back to his old self in no time with a bit of exercise and some . "Be bugger it comes to us all" was he's response. I told him I had a way to go before I caught up with him as he must be near eighty if a day.

Crime scene

He then started telling me about his step nephew, Cain who had been in trouble with the law recently. I know the bloke he meant, hapless little sod if ever there was one. Always furtively darting about the town lanky greasy haired to say he looked like a ferret would do ferrets a diservice. The same thing goes for weasels. Always in trouble, been in and out of prison for one thing or another countless times. Nice lad really just a bit dim. Not quite the full quid as the Aussies say, an expression which would have been all too familiar to Cain if had committed his crime 150 year ago. If he wasn't in prison he'd be on community service  He'd cut the back the whole of the Old Stickepath Hill and cleaned out all the rubbish that the students had tossed into the bank over the course of one summer with the amount of hours he was sentenced to put in. They say he single-handedly keeps the old folks home up at Hele in a fine state of repair. Anyway it turns out that this time he is facing prison once again and the judge is not going to be so lenient with him now that all of his five or six kids, I think it is, have started school. Also, the Devon and Cornwall Constabulary want to make an example of him as he is a "prolific thief" and they wish to illustrate the effectiveness of the new advances in technology that they have at their disposal to detect crime and apprehend criminals. 

Turns out the daft bugger had joined a fitness club down at Mill Road and after one zumba session he stayed behind in the changing rooms till closing time when he ventured out and proceeded to empty the vending machine of a few dozen cans of Lucozade Sport and a heap of loose change before making his escape by way of a conveniently open toilet window. After fleeing the scene of the crime and weighed down by his swag he had the none too bright idea of breaking into a garden shed and stealing a wheelbarrow to help him cart it all back home. He obviously made it without raising any suspicion as by the time the police arrived at both crime scenes the perpetrator was gone. To start off with the police had nothing to go on, no fingerprints, no witnesses nothing just two seemingly unrelated crimes save for being committed within a similar time frame and location. However, just as they were finishing a sweep of the garden crime scene an eagle-eyed copper discovered a discarded can of Lucozade Sport which had been flung into a flowerbed. They had the lead they had been looking for and a link between the two crimes was soon established. Cain must have got thirsty carting off his load and with the added effort involved in  breaking into the shed he must have opened one of the cans in order to isotonically replenish his energy. Now comes the the clever part. The Policeman then suggested to the Scene of Crime Officer, SOCO,  that maybe they could scan the can and see if any DNA could be found which could provide a match with DNA stored on the national database. At first they laughed him off not really appreciating the input of a uniform plod, but the officer insisted, believing that this would be the only way that chummy would be nabbed.So reluctantly the can was sent off for analysis. And a few days later it turned out that a match had been found and it was none other than Charlies' errant step-nephew. Over the course of his criminal history young Cain has provided enough DNA samples to get himself cloned. He is now up at Exeter on remand awaiting sentencing. If it weren't for the dogged persistence of the officer on the beat Cain would now still be at large rather than behind bars where, according to the local newspaper which carried the sensational case on it's front page, he belongs.

It's amazing what they can do with technology these days. After Charlie recounted this yarn it put my mind to thinking. I hope they don't try and extend this DNA database, testing for all, and start looking back into unsolved crimes as I could be truly for it. That was a chilling thought. Not that I have ever done anything too bad, just run of the mill country stuff, opportunistic stuff. No harm done. I reckon there must be a few evidence bags stashed away in the cold case unit up at Police Headquarters in Heavitree with my DNA all over the contents. Just my luck if some jobs-worth with a DNA tester takes another look at that old shoe that was found stuck in a bog out at ............. I'm not that mazed I could put myself right in it. Hah they couldn't do that do that, could they? It doesn't bare thinking about. 

I kept my thoughts to myself as Charlie and I finished off the Ostler's while discussing potential advances in crime detecting technology. I've seen that police proceedural programme CSI a few times and Charlie's missus is a fan. So we mused on the idea, which isn't too daft, of a North Devonian version of the popular crime franchise. Instead of CSI: Las Vegas you would have CSI: Ilfracombe, CSI: Miami could be CSI: Westward Ho! CSI: New York, CSI North Devon. I might mention to this to my media mates at Taw Valley Video. I could be on to something here

Barum bids farewell to the Multi-Storey

I have to say it was with mixed emotions that we all, down at the Marshal's lunch club, greeted the news of the demolition of the multi-story carpark. Work started on Monday to tear the ailing structure down and when I passed by on Thursday morning the demolition was well and truly underway. The building is riddled with that concrete cancer and apparently the harsh winters of recent years have made it's condition terminal and so the decision was made to reduce it to a single level car-park and add additional parking at Seven Brethren Bank sooner rather than later. We all agreed that a redundant car park is not what Barum needs at this moment, especially when there are so many audacious plans afoot to have more visitors flocking to the town with the Barum is a must... campaign and the ensuing TV adverts. A reduction in car parking capacity would be potentially disastrous so grudgingly we recognised the Council's plans to maintain adequate parking spaces in the town centre were well thought out . However, for a lot of townsfolk it's passing will be mourned as many people have treasured memories of the place. as it was a spot where us true locals did our first courting back in the day. I remember after many a night out at Tempo Disco, now Club Toko, taking a couple of maids up to the top deck to woo them as we looked out over the Barnstaple skyline, the looming silhouette of Codden hill and the twinkling of the Huntshaw Cross TV aerial in the distance and we'd stay a while to see the dawn rise above the spires of the town.  Of course this was way before they plonked the Hardaway Head tax office in front of it and spoilt the view. Wes Twardo was telling me how as teenagers they'd all be in there prizing anything they could from the parked cars and selling it on to a local garage owner for spares. Cheeky buggers. Anne Carwood remembers the lurid vd posters they used to have in the toilets the memory of which I can can recall vividly to this day. It almost put me off me pint. Charlie Street then went on to tell us that if he couldn't find his eldest boy Wayne of an evening he'd always knew to have a look in the men's down there as odds on he'd be in there along with all the other glue sniffers and pill poppers. Of course let's not forget that this was the first place in the town to install automatic hand blowers, dryers, which as I recall caused quite a stir at the time and provided hours of entertainment. Ah happy days.

I have to say though that once again we bid farewell to another iconic Barum landmark and although the town centre parking situation had to be addressed I think it a shame that more wasn't done to preserve this structure. As to my mind it really was a marvellous example of late sixties British municipal architecture a style which may not be to everyones fancy but still it does hold great social and historical significance. I was convinced of this by Annie's Godson's boyfriend who is an architect and had popped in to the pub to catch up on local gossip. I later read in the Gazette that this initial stage of the demolition is a part of the Queen Street, Boutport Street regeneration plan which is somewhat bleddy ironic given that the multi-storey was actually erected as part of a previous rather ambitious and largely unbuilt exercise in visionary urban planning. Back in the late sixties the town was to be remodelled as a brave new world of ring roads, shopping centres, public piazzas, elevated walkways and verdant gardens, all formed from  highly functional and uniformly visual concrete. A blueprint for the 21st Century. I remember seeing the plans laid out in the Athenaeum and at the time it all looked like a very utopian futuristic marvel,  they had even depicted little hover cars zooming about. In the short term I think it was just a fancy notion to make the town look more like Stevenage or Plymouth. The multi-storey, the civic centre and the leisure centre remain the only testament to that vision. This is probably a good thing because if they'd used the same dodgy concrete and gone any further with the plan, Barum would now be crumbling into the river.

School's out at St Michael's

So with all hopes of a rescue plan dashed it turns out that St Michals will not be opening it's gates up this term and has closed down. Not that I, being a passionate supporter of state education am too upset by this state of affairs.
To tell you the truth I haven't really given the place much thought over the past few years. That is until a few weeks back when Me and Anne Cawood and the dug were coming back from an afternoon hoicking some logs out of young Gunny's woods out over Chittlehamolt way. He had been clearing some ash. Now that is a lovely bit of wood for burning, so it would have been foolish not to take him up on his offer of a few hundred-weight.  I thought we'd make a day of it and take a drive out to Chittlehampton first off as I wanted to take a look at St Uriths church due to the fact I have lately developed a keen interest in North Devon's Celtic Saints and Annie, being a Swimbridge maid, just like the unfortunate Urith, was only too happy to oblige. Of course it was also a good excuse to pop into The Bell have a drop or two and share one of their fine roast dinners. You'd be foolish not to if ever you are out that way. Suitably fed and watered we jaloped on down the Mole Valley to Meethe Barton. A lovely spot.  On the way back with darkness upon us and a mist setting in up there on the ridgeway we could hardly see the road ahead I couldn't quite place exactly where we were. The clouds towered above us like hellish mountains and we seemed to be driving along a precipice delicately balanced above perilous canyons and at every turn in the road I saw grey boney hands looming up out of the verges grasping the night sky. It was quite an experience made even more surreal by Annie playing Lady Gaga on the stereo and the dog barking along. It was all rather thrilling, although I'd rather have been listening to Hawkwind. After another  wrenching twist in the road up ahead I saw some lights in the sky fuzilly through the mist. Initially, I thought it must be a lit up Missisipi steamboat on the river or someone had gone and parked a Bridgewater carnival float in a field, although as we approached  through the gloaming they all came into focus and a large house set in it's own grounds lit from all angles became apparent. It looked quite spectacular. A stately pleasure dome, a golden palace, perhaps the Taw Taj Mahal. I just couldn't fathom it. As we descended out of the mist, alongside Codden Hill I was able to get me bearings especially when we found ourselves on the A377 just outside Bishops Tawton. It then became profanely obvious that this brilliant vision was in fact Tawstock Court home of St Michael's School. I must say that someone has done a proper job of illuminating it at night as it took on truly magnificent aspect.

As I was relating our trip out to the Marshals Lunch Club the news broke that the school was closing down. Now, of course that set us all to thinking about the place. We all agreed that it was a bleddy odd sort of place, isolated and yet only a mile or so from the town. The fact is theses days you rarely saw the pupils in their salmon pink uniforms out and about and not one of us knew of anyone who actually went there. Not surprising in the least, seeing as you have pay for the privilege. Well not exactly true as we all know the Squire and apparently he had been there for a time back in the fifties. However, when I pressed him about it, his recollections were more of the Dotheboys Hall variety rather than the Goodbye Mister Chips. Cold comfort sort of place. Infact,  Ex Minister for Defence Tom King, Baron King of Bridgewater  turns out to be an old boy. Well, fancy that.

Class 3B St Michael's School 1962

I must say as a youngster I do remember getting up to no good in Tawstock Woods and coming across the establishment. I recall peering through the trees at a clearing where stood this large whitewashed mansion with manicured lawns, a mini-golf course and a swimming pool. All bathed in a strange unnatural metallic light. It all looked real enough but fake at the same time. Hyperreal I reckon you could call it. Like a film set. I also took notice of the group of strange looking boys meandering about. To a boy they were all blond, extremely pale skinned almost see through and looked remarkably alike. Their faces shared the same joyless expression and their movements were uniformly mechanical. I was so struck by these creepy looking kids I made sure I kept clear of the place.
However, a few years later I was pulling salmon out of the river under cover of the Lake bank when I realised I was being watched. I turned away from snaffling a fish in a feed sack and looked up from the waters edge. In the pale dawn light I saw three lads of markedly different heights but all with the striking but somewhat haunted nordic look their electric blue eyes pierced the twilight as they stared down at me. I straightened meself up and bade them good morninng they peered at me down in the mud looked at each other gave a few haughty sniffs and trotted off back over the plain to the school.  Bleddy odd.

Think Rodney!

Councillor Rodney Cann seems to spend so much of his time standing besides Westleigh Junction I am surprised that he hasn't been run over yet.
He has become a piece of street furniture and can be spotted several times on Google street view (see right ) standing beside a number of local roads.
So a warning this Christmas not only don't drink and drive, but also clunk click every trip and Think Rodney! As he will no doubt be out and about in North Devon over this festive season waiting to be photographed standing in the middle of the road, on the Tarka Trail or in a car park.
Should you spot him please give him a beep and please slow down.
I do think though it might be wise of Mrs Cann to get him a high visibility jacket for Christmas should he continue to maintain such a high profile besides our highways and byways.
I notice that he has a donate tab on his website so perhaps the people of North Devon should show their gratitude for his unstinting municiple good works and chip together to buy him one.

http://www.rodneycann.net/news.htm

Barum it's a must........

....... a must what exactly? That was the question on our lips down at the Marshals Thursday lunch club and I must say we had a jolly old time trying to decipher the unofficial logo that has been foisted upon the people of North Devon by, as far as I can make out a small group of town traders who have formed a group called BID North Devon. Bleddy daft name for a start as first thing it does is put you in mind of that town over on the other side of the bay. So, to my way of thinking first thing they've gone and done is promote Bideford! I see no sense in it and neither did anyone else. Annie Cawood suggested Barum it's a must..... avoid at all costs especially on a Thursday afternoon when the methadone clinic kicks out. Charlie Street put forward the notion that Barnstaple, it's a must...  for visiting charity shops, poundshops and pawnbrokers/money shops. Of course with Town's Fa Vase historic second round proper coming up I suggested a little more positively, Barum it's a must .... win on Saturday. (Which I am glad to report they did beating a team called Downton of all things, apparently the visitors had a bad dose of flu but a wins a win ).
Don't get me wrong though I'm not against promoting the town and I always do my own bit when and where I can,  and engendering a bit of local pride as Lord knows at this present time the poor old place needs it but I can't see that this logo is the way to do it. It's wishy washy vague and has exposed itself to ridicule. Why to the people resposible for these things always dream up something so bland and neutral that fails to capture the essence, history and values of a place. They always do it, rebranding is what they call it and locally we have had a few choice examples in recent years to illustrate the point. North Devon College - Petroc which to be fair is growing on me and Devon County Council and North Devon both of 'em replaced logos with clear graphic representations of the area with anodyne pastel leaves and abstract rural coastal swathes of watery green and blue.

The firm behind the Barum design claim that they want to get over a sense of history and local pride. How? I just don't see it, not even after I tried squinting. They could have come up with something a lot better and could have done a lot worse than basing it on the old logo or coat of arms as they were called which has served the town well since at least the 16th century. As you can see it comes with it's own little tag line or motto. " Fides et Justitia" It's Latin and I have just had a word with the Squire who is a Latin scholar and it translates as "faith and Justice" Barum - Faith and Justice. Blimey you can't get more proud and noble than that. That lofty claim should give anyone a sense of local pride and history if that's what our forebears thought of the town it indicates what we should strive to live up to.

Here's 'Combes recent effort. There's nothing like a bit of honesty and I think they have hit the nail on the head with a motto which needs no deciphering as I think there no denying it, it is a very, very curious place indeed