Again today I looked back into the mists of time and this time found that I did not see much staring back. It is nearly 33 years since I moved to Bedford to live and work. It was my first posting as a licensed controller. For the first few weeks I lived with the friends we went to see today. Later I went to live in Rutland Road near the station and endured an incredible six years without central heating. Bedford will always have a special place in my heart because it was there, in the Barley Mow pub, that I met my boyfriend Greg. There is no-one whose company I would rather have today. He was brought up in Bedford which probably accounts for his greater clarity of recall than mine. I left Bedford in September 1983 and have returned only occasionally and fleetingly since. I found today that time had torn many of my memories from me. Furthermore, as love blossomed in 1978 and onwards I spent very little non-work time in Bedford as Greg was studying in London. Whatever the reason, I recognised little with confidence.
It is perhaps unfair to judge any place in the rain and the weather this morning was not pleasant but only emphasised I think the inherent dullness of an economically strained town. I was frustrated as the rain markedly restricted my photography.
We had a stimulating time with our friends and our pub lunch was very good value. Chris and I worked together at what was then RAE Bedford (Thurleigh/EGVW) and we went for a nostalgic drive in the afternoon for which the weather had cleared to become quite pleasant. A large part of the former airfield is now a race track (operated by MSV/PalmerSport) and more is used for vehicle storage. The eastern part of the main runway has recently become re-licensed as Bedford Aerodrome (EGBF). Some of the key buildings are still extant though it is now hard to imagine any of the former activities which ended in 1994 a long time even after I had left. We had mixed fortunes trying to see our former haunts. The gate we used to use daily for work is long since defunct and effectively barricaded.
On the main site a pleasant but entirely intransigent guard was not going to let us go anywhere. At Twinwoods there was a slightly more flexible approach which allowed an unofficial drive through to a subsidiary gate. I was interested to see that Red Bull Racing now use one of the wind tunnels.
It was a worthwhile excursion but in many ways the experience said to me 'you can't go back'.
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