No stairway to heaven

It is in fact the stairs of a footbridge over the suburban railway line near Sidcup in the London Borough of Bexley (it used to be in Kent when I lived near there 60 odd years ago). We had gone up to Greenwich to view a flat our youngest daughter had seen and thought might suit her. It's not ideal but nothing is, in the price range she is looking at, and it does have quite a few plus points. On the way back we went down Memory Lane including Avery Hill where I used to play football and once saw Free perform at the college there before they hit the big time, and Old Farm Avenue where Brenda's grandparents lived. To her dismay, new houses had been crammed in at the back  and alongside the railway line so the long garden and field behind that she remembered no longer existed. That's the problem with going down Memory Lane. However, she enjoyed retracing her steps to the nearby footpath and footbridge over the railway line, even if it is looking rather less than inviting these days. We carried on to Swanley, where I grew up. I'm not at all sentimental about the place but I placed some flowers on the memorial  in the churchyard which marks where the ashes of my parents and brother are interred.