On a dark and stormy night many, many years ago a baby girl was born, not in a manger, but in a hospital bed in a small town named Reading in the borough in Berkshire. Today, it is Berkshire's largest town, with a total population of around 355,600. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was a small town back then, but on that October day, it's population increased by 1. And that 1 was me.
Why I was born in Battle Hospital Reading and not in Basingstoke where we were living at the time, remains a mystery. And sadly, as my parents have long since passed, I can no longer ask them, so it will have to remain a mystery. The mystery grows even bigger knowing that my younger brother was born in Winchester - again not where I believe we were living at the time. What was it then with Basingstoke maternity hospitals? Were they non existent? Did they have a bad reputation or did they simply run out of room at the inn and sent parents on donkeys or in cars to hospitals further afield?
My birth certificate clearly states I was born in Reading and yet this was a place that I still had not visited. Possibly not since that night of my birth of which I remember very little. Now most people who I told I was off to Reading replied with one word. Why? It does not appear to have a reputation of being a culturally interesting place to visit. Undeterred, I jumped on a train and decided to pay a visit to my birth place. Unfortunately, Battle Hospital no longer exists. It closed in 2005 and has since been demolished. The western half of the site is now occupied by a large Tesco and although I do love a nice supermarket, I didn't feel the urge to go there.
Anyway, in under an hour I was in Reading at the large and modern train station. My hotel was not far and after checking in it was time to explore. 1st stop the Reading museum. Better learn a little bit about the history of the place. Interesting enough. Reading dates from the 8th century and Reading Abbey was one of the largest and richest monasteries of medieval England. Founded in 1121 by Henry I, who is buried within the Abbey grounds. Later it became known for beer and biscuits and a rapid manufacturing boom.
Next stop was of course the Abbey, at least the ruins that remain. They are very nice ruins as far as ruins go and you walk through lovely Forbury Gardens to get there. In the middle stands guard the impressive Maiwand Lion. I was rather surprised to find the 'Requiem' Spanish Civil War Memorial. I'm not sure of the significance of why it's here in Reading. Maybe this is what my mum and dad were visiting back on 9 October and I decided to pop out in a hurry.
Next I headed for a stroll around the river, through an area dedicated to Oscar Wild who spent time in jail here for that most heinous of crimes, being gay. Poor man, we've come so far and yet not far enough. I also spotted the official Camino Marker starting point for the Camino Ingles. Right there by the Abbey telling me I had 690 miles to get to Santiago. Maybe another day. I would still like to do the English section. Reading to Southampton. Seems somewhat special that I was born in Reading and currently live in Southampton. Is this fate?
The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering around the main streets. I didn't feel a cosmic connection, although something stirred in the local Primark. That evening I headed out to a very cool and colourful bar named the Purple Turtle. The place was indeed purple, but not a single turtle was anywhere to be found. I had a pint, listened to the band for a while and headed back to the hotel.
After a not very good sleep (way too hot), I set off again for another wander around the river area and had a lovely lunch at the Botanist. A final stroll and it was back on the train. I can at least say I've been to Reading. No need to rush back, but if one day I decide to set off on the English Camino, I shall return - walking sticks in hand.
Oh of course, there’s also the annual Reading Festival - the magical weekend when the town transforms from “commuter hub” to “post‑apocalyptic campsite with a soundtrack”. That could be fun.
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