The Past is a Foreign Country

I paid my mum a vist today.
She still lives in Wythenshawe where my siblings and I all grew up.
It used to credited with being the largest council estate in western Europe, but I don't know if that's still the case, or indeed if it ever was.

Whenever I go back I always feel a little bit nostalgic.
I'd made a concious decision to blip something from my past today, and it was going to be my old primary school. I made the necessary detour to do the deed, but when I reached my destination the school had disappeared?
In its place was a brand new housing estate. The playing fields were still present and correct...but no school. The bastards! Why was I not informed??

No problem...I had a plan B.
We used to get our milk delivered from the local dairy farm, Shenton's. A family concern, as most small farms are. It would make a good strong nostalgic blip and bring the memories flooding back.
As I approached it, things were not looking good.
It was completely derelict, overgrown and fire damaged. Surrounded by an eight foot security fence.
There has been a farm on that site since 1504, but it seems the last couple of decades have seen it off.

The past really is a foreign country. And today the border guards did a good job of keeping me out.