Buchan's Hole is possibly the location where the famous 'Thirty-nine Steps' story, was conceived. But there the similarity ends, as there are no steps to speak of, only steep slopes, and the title 'The Thirty-nine Slopes' just doesn't have the same ring to it does it!
BH (as it is called by a small local person), is right on the Kent coast, some say it should actually be just a hundred yards off the coast, and that would solve the problem, but that would be unfair to the population of eighty-seven, and the various out-buildings.
The estate of the Mannerings family, a well known gusset-mangler who moved to the place after the unpleasantness in Droitwich, overlooks the bay from a hill to the south. There, the brooding shadow cast by the various buildings, reminds the residents below of the main reason for the wealth, and the poverty, of the place. The BH local people manage to eke out a living by delivering pizzas, washing cars, and selling a few paltry herbs and spices, and their only pleasure is a monthly game of 'Lynch-the-bankers', which well may become an Olympic sport in years to come. (The Italians will well remember this and undoubtedly become proficient and excellent at the pastime. They will come second to England).
Theophilus Bartholemew Mannerings allowed the railway to go through his land to the village in 1831. He was paid a pittance of several million pounds, a small sum for the inconvenience we are assured, and from then on, became a benefactor to many ladies on the area, giving freely, and expecting very little in return, other than a signed affidavit denying that anything untoward ever happened.
The yelps and shrieks which come from the former artificial insemination building, now refurbished as a 'Grannex', for an errant sister of one of the family, are now down to the frequent visitations of a suave gentleman in a tweed cap, and string-backed gloves, which are used to steer his vintage Jaguar through the country lanes leading to the estate, and not the commercial increasement of the farm animals, although the process is roughly the same.
The railway was built as a branch line, but was perceived as more of a bough line, possibly only a twig line, but indeed became so insignificant, that this leaf-vein line was never even noticed by Dr Beeching as it was so faint on his map, and thus survived the cull.
The town planners, were bent on getting the railway to the place, and did absolutely nothing to assist the thriving town centre in the process. They were bent over desks, even just bent, but the new track was laid before you could bat an eyelid, and even the local building supplier, Enoch Sagtrouser, (grandfather of the current incumbent, Elias), began to rub his hands, and also his other various extremities, at the thought of all that income from such a big building job.
The utter disgrace associated with the decision by the elders of BH are graphically demonstrated here!