In the 20s and 30s, all Modern architects seemed to be infatuated with Ocean Liners. The curves, contours and towers of a Cunard would be adapted into their houses and flats. The Brutalism of the 60s would, on the other hand, appear to have been a rejection of this high seas frippery for something more earthy and urban.

Wyndham Court in Southampton is the world’s only Brutalist Ocean Liner. This block of flats, which looms over Southampton Central Station, throwing the blandness of its surroundings into sharp relief, is – intentionally or not – a tribute to a bygone era of glamour and luxurious transport, fittingly in the very port where the Queen Mary, the Titanic et al made their voyages.

Making buildings symbolise something is something generally associated with the grisly jokiness of the ‘80s, such as Terry Farrell’s TVAM eggcups and so forth. Wyndham Court, though, makes its associations while never seeming anything less than logical. Twin blocks of flats angling themselves around a central public square, with shops at the edges and turrets sticking out strategically, hewn from white-grey, lustrous concrete, the long, jutting forms unmistakably suggest some sort of Corbusian cruise ship.

Continue reading "Wyndham Court, Southampton" »

Posted by Owen on July 26, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (5)

Of all the seaside towns in all the world, the biggest rock shop has to be in one of them, and it’s Great Yarmouth. It’s only fitting that a resort so unashamed of its dedication to traditional leisure and pleasure throws healthy eating to the wind and gets down to the serious business of getting rock right.

It’s not completely clear what kind of competition Docwras Rock Factory has for the “Biggest rock shop” title, although a couple of other establishments in Regent Road look like they’re thinking of having a go. Although the shopfront is relatively modest they’re not exactly hiding their light under a bushel with the enormous neon sign saying “The World’s Largest Rock Shop” running right down one side of the interior.

And indeed, it’s big. One side is taken up with lots and lots of rock. All shapes. All sizes. All flavours. There’s everything – banana, raspberry, coffee, strawberries and cream, aniseed, different types of mint, and they come with almost anything stamped through the middle. Towards the back, beside the novelty shapes like baby’s dummies and fried breakfasts made of rock there’s even a “naughty section” with some genuinely eye watering things to put in your mouth.

Docwras is a family run business that has been making rock and other sweets for over 100 years. They’re quite happy to share the expertise of their “rock and rollers”. At the other side of the shop, beside a huge pipe painted rock pink another huge sign says “See Yarmouth Rock Made Here” with a sign showing the time of the next demo. Sadly, I missed it. Seeing as they make 80,000 sticks of rock every week it shouldn’t be long before another one comes along.

Continue reading "Docwras Rock Factory, Great Yarmouth" »

Posted by Anne on July 16, 2007 | Permalink

Barely hanging on to the most easterly tip of England, Great Yarmouth is the seaside town that time forgot. Within minutes of our arrival we discover this temporal isolation permeates the town's whole being.

At the core of Great Yarmouth’s time warp sits Louis Tussauds House of Wax. Its terrible likenesses have been widely mocked via viral emails and national radio.

It was the last day of our visit when we stumbled upon the grand old house, painted bright blue and white, with a small ticket booth out front and faded lettering spelling out 'House of Wax'. Disclaimers and warnings proclaim 'These waxworks are best enjoyed as snapshots in time’ and 'No Photography' - evidence its owners were stung by the email mocking their museum.

Buying tickets and stepping inside we immediately realise the wax works are just as bad as the stories had led us to believe, however it's the whole atmosphere, the entirety of the museum that makes it so fascinating.

Due to a lack of investment or more likely a lack of will, Louis Tussauds is a time capsule of the 1970s and early 80s. Jim Davidson stands proudly at the front of a display of television personalities featuring amongst others Dirty Den and Angie, Sam Fox and the cast of Dynasty. There's a whole gallery of military figures with Churchill and Hitler headlining. Modern day is represented by a lost looking Victoria and David Beckham, but they are probably just the old Morecombe and Wise figures melted down and given new hairstyles.

Continue reading "Louis Tussaud's House of Wax, Great Yarmouth" »

Posted by Ben C on July 08, 2007 | Permalink | Comments (3)