Day 1/10: Blue Town Heritage Centre
I've been talking, researching, day dreaming about Sheppey for over a year now. Today I'm actually going to go. 3 trains from where I live in Thamesmead to Sheereness-on-Sea. It's all pretty standard to start off with. There's an Elizabeth line train in the station which is funny because Crossrail is literally never going to happen even though the hoardings around the ground where all the cranes and diggers are tell you how fast you'll be able to get to Canary Wharf. I take a photo for my dad and then think NO! SAVE YOUR BATTERY! I think of it because I've heard that lack of investment and over-development are big topics on the island.
I get on the train and this normal thing becomes weird new because I'm going “the other way” ie. Out of London.
I see the place I live going past in a back to front way and it's good, it feels fresh. Then it becomes familiar again until Chatham. I used to go to Chatham quite a lot for work. The things people say about Chatham are similar to the things people say about Sheppey – it was good til the dockyard closed – no jobs now – the whole town's in a slump. People say it's crap basically, even though it's not.
I change trains at Rochester (which everyone in Chatham says is really nice) and then I change at Sittingbourne and see the 3 coach train and recognise this coastal train situation. Mini train for a mini arm off the main branch. It's a while before it sets off but I get on anyway. The person cleaning the train is dead cheery. I've heard loads about the train – it's supposed to kick off, loads is meant to happen. I'm listening to the The Sea View Has Me Again by Shona Illingworth, Patrick Wright and Big Fish Arts. It's really good. You can listen to it here: https://www.estuaryfestival.com/event/detail/the-sea-view-has-me-again-patrick-wright-shona-illingworth.html It's about the island and its history and the writer Uwe Johnson who came to live and work in Sheerness in the 1970s. Bits of what Uwe Johnson wrote about the island are read out by a list of people, which is like a Sheppey version of the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Justin Aggett
Jo Eden
Jim Enright
Albion Grey
Jeanette McClaren
Chris Reed
Sue Percival
Janys Thornton
Jeremy Thornton
These names have been brought up in conversation over the past year when I've asked who I should speak to on Sheppey. I've written these names down in pencil on bits of paper like people do when they're watching Line of Duty, trying to map out the story, piece together the evidence. Some of these people have kindly agreed to talk to me on Zoom already and some of them I'll meet when I get off the train.
The train sets off and I have to get up and change seats because I'm going backwards. We're going back the way we came. Off on a tangent. Boys are wearing short shorts and girls with long hair have got it up in buns. It is actually really hot and I've got way too many clothes on. One of the girls on the table opposite me says “imagine working on a day like this. I'd literally quit”. Someone else is eating an ice cream. I can hear the person cleaning the train asking “You off to the beach?” and someone replies “she's got a job interview”.
The houses and level crossings turn into green fields and pylons, a massive flyover (/bridge?) rises up with cars, then there's a bit of water and there's a sign saying Welcome to the Isle of Sheppey. I missed it! I thought it was going to be like Hamburg or something, the train crossing the water on this massive suspension bridge. I thought I'd get this feeling of transition and it would last at least a couple of minutes so I'd have time to process it but no, that was it! Ha! How funny. The idea of islands are weird aren't they?
I arrive in Sheerness and there's this sign. I have to wait til everyone's got off to get a proper photo. That's nice! I get my phone out and realise I need to go the opposite way to everyone else heading to the High Street.
To get to Bluetown Heritage Centre I walk past the college, past big Tescos and over a bridge with water and birds below. This big shop mixed with bodies of water and birds under roads instantly reminds me of Thamesmead. I cross the roundabout onto the main street of Blue Town and meet a high wall on my right that doesn't let up the whole time. At points along the wall are heritage plaques like this one that explains why it's called Blue Town.
Blue Town Heritage Centre looks surprising. There's a family in the foyer and I squeeze past them to announce my arrival to the person working in the box office. This experience is pretty much the same as the rest of my encounters with people from Sheppey – I come at them quite formally and cringe when asking for their help, and when and where and if and how and they come back straight away with a yeah of course, whenever suits.
So I'm climbing a set of stairs behind a door I didn't see before calling out to Malcolm, the volunteer archivist, to let him know I'm here. He pops his head out of one of the rooms. We have a quick chat about what I'd like to see – I'd initially asked to see some letters to tie into the creative letter exchange but the ones they've got are pretty serious personal ones and business ones, neither of which are quite right. Instead Malcolm suggests the postcard collection. He shows me a powerpoint of a talk he did on it, and shows me some of the more curious ones like this:
I'm struck by the way that people play with the boundaries and limited space that they have. The photographs are like a weird time machine to these places that I don't know yet but will know in proper sequence now after having seen their past versions in these postcards first. Pretty much all the people who've written these postcards are dead now. Is it okay that paper and ink lasts way longer than us?
