Firstly, my humble apologies for the wretched amount of time between this post and the previous. Due to circumstances beyond my control I have had to contend myself with glimpses of roadside poles as I hurried about the country in vague panic during some familial distress. Alas, I could not find the time to blather on about them to our eager readership.
This post, though, I could put off no longer. You see, we at the Telegraph Pole Appreciation Society have always enjoyed our regular correspondence with Scottish Borders representative, Lord of the Northern Poles, aka Kev Currie. He is an adroit connoisseur, cataloguer and photographer of vintage telegraph poles and his images are among the finest. This month the photos he has sent us almost made me weep with a sort of nostalgic joy. It was either that or the wince-making bank statement I came home to. You decide… In Kev’s own words :
Lord of the Northern Poles checking in with some nice photos from my latest foray down into deepest darkest Norfolk!
We came across these awesome poles with fancy hats on top! and the insulators look like the pole is wearing a crown – all very majestic – Also your members may also like to know that on my return journey we took a diversion over the A68 to get back into Scotland trying to avoid the customs post, and what a treat that was and should be included in your next book – Incredible Pole spotting routes in the UK vol 2
The A68 from the A1 takes a very scenic route over the hills and up into Scotland, but the best part of all is that there is a plethora of weird and wonderful telegraph poles to drool over from metal ones in various colours and stages of deterioration to wooden ones with hats on! and some with cross bars, some with street lights attached! it was like well it was amazing! sadly i had to drive this section so no photos, but I will return to take many many photos!Seasons greetings to you and yours
Kev – Lord of the Northern Poles
With its finial and sceptred crown that last pole is one of the finest I have ever set eyes upon. And when I get a moment from my immediate mayhem I shall invest it as such on these very pages.
Actually, you may also like to know, and I hope that I’m not breaking a confidence here, but Kev’s missus is actually called Lady of the Northern Poles. You couldn’t make it up.