BEACONSFIELD?

You'd be quite correct in thinking that Beaconsfield has nothing whatsoever to do with the CRCMH - aside from the acquisition of some terrapin huts from the original hospital by Clean Services during WWI. However, whilst compiling this website, I came across one of those silly things I wrote on my old typewriter (which seemed to have half the keys missing) sometime in the very late 1980s. So I thought "what the hell, I'll throw this in as well." So switch off now if it's getting too stupid - not to mention irrelevant - for you.

My brother Ben used to collect ornate hand-painted minature cottages. That's Lilliput Lane's to quote a brand name for the uninitiated lay-person. This might have been a strange, if not slightly effeminate hobby for a 12 year old boy - but he's laughing on the other side of his face now. His collection, featuring many very early pieces by the now world renown marque, is currently worth many many thousands of pounds. And for those freaks who know anything about it all - yes, he has both St.Peter's Cove™ and Saxham St.Edmunds™.

Whatever it was that I spent my money on in those days would have long since been consumed (hic) or upgraded to compact disc. Typical. Still, I shall not explain what I wrote or why I wrote it any further - except to say that the Blue Peter team would be very proud of me - but here it is, exactly as I typed it almost 15 years ago:

#2375 - How to make your own Lilliput Lane™ collection without parting with any cash.

You will need:-

• 1 x house in Maidenhead
• 1 x blue Vauxhall Astra
• 1 x stepladder
• 1 x torch
• 5 x dustbin sacks
  

   

Go to your house in Maidenhead and collect what you need. Then get in your car and drive to nearby Beaconsfield where (conveniently) you will find Bekonscot Model Village waiting for you. Go to the vollage (except it's a village) and use your stepladder to scale the wooden fence. Then get out the torch. If it's night - switch on the torch. If it's not - then throw it away. Then, using your dustbin sacks, start "borrowing" some of the intricately detailed minature cottages (well, nearly). Buildings of particular note include:

a) The Barley Mow Inn
b) The Church that plays music
c) The Church that doesn't play music
d) The machine that goes "Ping!"
e) The Pier
f) The Windmill
g) The golf clubhouse

Also of interest is the golfer with only one leg. When you are content with what you have collected, return home and display your finds in with your existing "Lanes". You may discover that they dramatically tower above the aforesaid name brand, but don't worry about this - simply tell your friends/family/TV reporters/burglars that they were built to the scale of Saxon Cottage™ .

Well, there you have it - FREE "Lanes".

End of factsheet.

Also in this series:-

• How to make your own "Crown Jewels" without parting with any cash.
• How to make your own "McLaren F1" without parting with any cash.
• How to make your own "Prime Minister Thatcher" without parting with any cash.
  
  

Like I said - nothing whatsoever to do with the CRCMH. Oh, and by the way - please don't be so demented as to go and do anything that remotely resembles actually following these instructions. It's only humour and I don't need a law suit on my hands thank you very much (kids). Apologies though that you have to be a Lilliput Lane freak to understand the joke about Saxon Cottage™. But if you are one of those aforementioned freaks - feel free to make Ben an offer on St.Peter's Cove™ via myself (it's in absolutely mint condition) - it might even pay for his swimming pool. Bastard. Hmmm...

Okay, and while I'm at it, I might as well rid myself of another skeleton from my typewriter days (i.e. the late 1980s). It's another Lilliput Lane related story - a companion piece you might say. I might as well work for them at this rate. Actually, come to think of it, I practically did. Here - in a world exclusive - I can reliably inform you that I, Damon Torsten, was single-handedly responsible for the appearance of the Lilliput Lane cottage The Ugly House. And I'm deadly serious about this - I'm not joking. As you may or may not know, this is a real building in North Wales - a rather unique structure. Now, I sent Lilliput Lane some photos of it and said "you idiots, why haven't you made this one yet? It's a tourist attraction! It'll sell zillions of models!". And what did they do? Yep, Make a Lilliput Lane version. What did they get? Yep, zillions of money. What did they send me for the rather generous tip-off? A Lilliput Lane catalogue - signed by founder David John Tate no less. Whoopy-doo. Bastards. At last, the truth comes out - so if you see one, confiscate it and tell 'em that I own the copyright on the idea. Okay> Good. But back to the point, the following piece of writing is based around, well, I'll tell you afterwards or it'll spoil the story.

Tales of the Unexpected - by Damon Torsten

And there he was. Looking sad as he trudged down the lane. The time had come. He turned onto a paved walk and strolled some sixty metres along the smelly street. Shops crowded either side, towering above. He felt small and stopped walking. Glancing around, he turned left and took a few short paces towards the entrance. Stumbling to turn the plastic sphere, the door creaked open.

Cobwebs fluttered in the new air that had blown in. There was a room. It was full of various objects of curiosity, all stacked up on shelves and benches, all covered with dust which must have been a good half inch thick. Clothes hung in the centre of the room, unwanted and caked in more dust. Pushing cobwebs out of the way, he started moving to the other side of the room. He could barely see where he was going through the thick atmosphere but had a cold feeling of being watched. Stretching out his arm to the right, he felt his way along a shelf. His hand touched a peculiar object that felt solid and detailed but a strange shape. He pressed on and made his way cautiously forward. It was then that the mist started to clear.

A noise - and infront of him, the terrifying form of a dragon emerged.

In panic, he quickly turned to his left and stepped away from the fire-breathing monster. But his passage was still blocked. There was a desk of some description. He tapped it. Wood. And then - suddenly - another noise. He strained his ears to listen. It came again. A cough - a human cough? Then, infront of him, he watched as the mist and cobwebs were cleared away. An image presented itself and he attempted to figure it out. It was two people.

Two Asian men. Both standing behind the wooden desk. He briskly handed them some paper notes, and in exchange, was passed a cardboard box. He nodded his head to the men and made his way back out of the room and onto the paved walkway outside.

At last, Ben had paid off all of Schloss Neuschwanstein™.

The End.

Okay, before you frustrate yourself to death with "what the **** was that all about?", here's the entire story in one sentence: It's an account of Ben going into the Sneep Gift Shop on Maidenhead High Street to finally pay off a Lilliput Lane castle he'd had on Lay-By for months. End of story. Pointless - but if you've ever actually been into Sneep (which is still there - see picture below - and also the source of the word Neep as used frequently by Pwürg), the whole thing will make perfect sense. Or not. I think I'll quit while there's an ever so slight chance that I'm actually ahead...

Damon Torsten
April 2002