You are here:
Wilstead
Wilstead maps
Historic maps of Wilstead and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Wilstead maps
Wilstead photos
We have no photos of Wilstead, although we do have photos of these nearby places:
Houghton Conquest| Elstow| Cardington| Kempston| Clophill| Bedford| Ampthill| Old Warden| Flitton| Shefford| Flitwick| Steppingley| Great Barford| Blunham| Lower Stondon
Wilstead area books
Displaying 1 of 6 books about Wilstead and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Wilstead
No memories of Wilstead have been shared yet - be the first!
Add your memory of Wilstead
or of a photo of Wilstead.
Bedfordshire memories
The RAF And Cardington
As RAF children, all three of us were christened in the picturesque church in Cardington, which is the unofficial 'favourite' church for RAF personnel! I obviously don't remember my own christening and wasn't about when my older brother was held over the font, but I do remember my sister's christening because she's nine years younger than I, so the memory is quite vivid. I also remember making much earlier visits to the charming old pub - as far back as when I was only two years old, in fact! - before we were posted to Cyprus. Not allowed into the pub itself, the kids would play outside, rain or shine, but I was awaiting heart surgery and so could only sit and watch, unfortunately! I enjoyed the lemonade and packets of crisps with the ltitle twist of salt in blue paper, but I never ate the pickled cockles that the grown-ups would bring out to us on the jar's lid. Yugh! I've no idea if the area has changed -... Read more
Basic Training
As a young 18 year old, and very excited, I was joining the RAF. My excitement died a little as I went through basic training - all that drill, wow, anyhow I got through it and considered it all very worth while. My first leave, in that blue uniform, I looked very smart and was proud to have served.
Swimming in The River at Kempston
Great times were had at the river at the bend as we children called it, we would make mud slides down the banks. What fun we had. There was always a good crowd there on a Sunday afternoon, but now its all quiet, no swimmers, the bend has long since gone.
Up The Overs
Walking free through the wet grass leaving dark trails. Ahead the meadow rises to the mill bank where we stand in silence. Silent and smooth the deep mill race slides towards the wheel. Turning away we follow the bank upstream to the New Overs. Standing on the wooden sluice walk we look down the slide to the deep pool below. No water over the spillways in summer, the shutters are down and slides are dry. Later in the day the children will come to swim in the sluice pool and splash along through the shallows to the eyot. The girls will sit on the slide lip and the boys, lifting the shutters from the sluice walk, will send a wave down the slide to wash them into the pool. No-one will play on the second Over with its dark tree shaded pool. Strong swimmers drown among the tangled roots.
On along the mill steam bank, walking on the cracked dry clay, to the old Overs. The duck... Read more
My House
This is where I live, it is no longer a village post office. It was built in 1680, and we are returning it to a residential property.
39 Mill Lane
The gable end of the house on the left is 39 Mill Lane and Back St starts at the junction over the hill and not visible here. My father built the house about 1935 when he was 21 years old. I grew up there until 1955 when it was sold and we moved from Clophill for a short time. We returned in 1957 and lived in the Old Police House in The Slade until I married in 1966 and brought my first home in Back St. I have traced my family's time in Clophill from about 1750 until 1980 in a new book which is now available.
Small Prison Cell Where John Bunyon Stayed
I was born in Tithe Barn Road in 1953. When I was about 9 and 12 some mates and me noticed this small building that looked like a small house. A pointed house with no windows, just a solid oak door with 3 bars at top of door, always very dark inside & nobody told us nothing - only it was a jail. As it had woodern beams we could see writing carved in the wood, so after a lot of work and time we managed to make a hole though one corner. After we got the courage to enter, we noticed the poems carved out on the beams were written by John Bunyon. I would love to see some photos of the prison, it went many years ago. It was in Hall End Road, next to church, in the corner, under trees.
