Thames Valley Photos ?

So where are all the Thames Valley moto photos ?

It's been many years since I have been home (Slough) and would love to see some pictures from there.

As a kid I use to scoot along the cows field by the Windsor train tracks along the 100 arches and any all dirt / gravel farm roads we could find and access (not many I admit) -

Thanks
Dave

Dakar-Dave said:

So where are all the Thames Valley moto photos ?

It's been many years since I have been home (Slough) and would love to see some pictures from there.

As a kid I use to scoot along the cows field by the Windsor train tracks along the 100 arches and any all dirt / gravel farm roads we could find and access (not many I admit) -

Thanks
Dave

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Slough eh?

It's all changed a lot nowadays - they're trying to claim it's all flash and splendid

the best view of sloufff is this one below......... [see picture]
on your way to somewhere nice.
there are buses that miss slouff that way you will be relaxed when you arrive at h/row rather than be on edge.

Slough

Happiness is Slough


















in your rear view mirror

feck off you snobs

slough. remember it well

30 odd years ago i lived with a girlfriend next to the dog stadium. sorry, no photo`s

slough just a blur in the wing mirrors on the way down the m4 on the way to the a404

Slough
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn't fit for humans now,
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!

Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air -conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town-
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.

And get that man with double chin
Who'll always cheat and always win,
Who washes his repulsive skin
In women's tears:

And smash his desk of polished oak
And smash his hands so used to stroke
And stop his boring dirty joke
And make him yell.

But spare the bald young clerks who add
The profits of the stinking cad;
It's not their fault that they are mad,
They've tasted Hell.

It's not their fault they do not know
The birdsong from the radio,
It's not their fault they often go
To Maidenhead

And talk of sport and makes of cars
In various bogus-Tudor bars
And daren't look up and see the stars
But belch instead.

In labour-saving homes, with care
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.

Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now;
The earth exhales.


John Betjeman got it right

Nick Marshall said:

30 odd years ago i lived with a girlfriend next to the dog stadium. sorry, no photo`s

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what about the stadium

Desert Rat said:

what about the stadium

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Gone to the great dog track in the sky It is now a supermarket