England Phase 2 (2)

On this, our last Sunday in England, we wanted to head for somewhere closer to Heathrow so we wouldn't have to rush anywhere on Monday - they day we were flying home. We left Salford heading south to meet up with the A44. This would take us generally south east through places like Moreton-in-Marsh and Chipping Norton on the way to Oxford and other points south. In Chipping Norton we were briefly held up due to a Remembrance Sunday processsion. When we got to Oxford I thought it might be nice to drive through the city so that Pat could have alook at the old colleges, rather than just stick to the boring ring road. Bad idea! Oxford was also chocker with traffic and roads had been closed to divert traffic onto side streets to avoid processions. Following the example of other drivers we turned around and headed back to a likely-looking side street. This took us past the processions but the traffic was very slow. Eventually we emerged on the south side of the city ending back up on the ring road. Sometimes good ideas just turn to rubbish.

I had thought we might overnight at Henly-on-Thames, famous for the annual rowing regatta between Oxford and Cambridge. Traffic wasn't too bad heading into the town and I was looking for what might be a car park close to the centre of town. Not knowing the place we ended up just past the town centre with a forced left turn onto a bridge across the river. No problem thinks I. I'll just drive across the river turn around and head back into town from the other direction. Right? Wrong! Traffic coming into town from the south east was stopped and stretched right back up the hill for a bout 1.5 miles. Oh well, we're flexible so just carry on to Maidenhead.

At Maidenhead, we found the centre of town and parked in a multi-story carpark while we had a break and a bite to eat. Parking wasn't free, it was the kind where you pay on your ticket on your way back to the car and then use it to get out of the boom gate on the way out. Despite charging for Sunday parking, they dain not to operate the elevators on Sunday so you have to trudge up umpteen flights of stairs to your car - very unfriendly. I told Pat to wait by the way out while I went up to get the car and I'd pick her up as I came out through the boom gate. She jokingly remarked that if I was going to get rid of her this might be the best chance I'd get. Prophetic words. As I drove towards the boom gate I didn't see any sign of her. I was distracted by another way out which was for people who hadn't yet paid but properly bypassed that lane and took the correct way out but no sign of Pat (that I could see). I thought "OK - I'll park somewhere close then walk back and find her". Wrong again. One way streets, no on-street parking for miles, and no idea where the one-way system would take me in a town which I didn't know at all. Well, nothing for it but to drive and keep track of my heading and try to circle back around. I was able to u-turn in a side street about a mile and a half away and completed the loop back to the carpark after about ten minutes. Fortunately Pat was waiting on the side of the road, wodering whether I had taken her up on the offer of leaving her there. Fortunately we were able to have a good laugh about it.

After such an experience we decided to head a little further south to Windsor and check out accomodation around there. We found a hotel in our voucher book which looked like a good prospect and on calling them discovered that they had rooms available. This was just a bit further south from Windsor near the A30 near a village called Englefield Green, Egham. This is just outside Windsor Great Park and in quite a nice area. The girl at the hotel gave me directions on how to get there and we found the right road with no problems. However, even driving up and down the road about three times we still couldn't find the hotel. Eventually I called in at the pub at Englefield Green and asked one of the girls how to find the hotel - and she didn't know - but an American lady overheard my enquiry and was able to tell us how to get there. It turned out that we had driven past the discreet entrance several times.

The Saville Court Hotel is now run by the McDonalds group but was originally the country home of some Baron or other (Cohen?). It is set in about 10 hectares of parklike land. It has apparently been renovated in the last year or so and we found it very comfortable. It has over 140 rooms but there were apparently only about 20 people in the hotel while we were there. It was at this time that we discovered that we did not have our book of vouchers from Qantas and couldn't find them even though we practically unpacked and repacked our suitcases in the back of the Zafira. No point in worrying however. We thought that we must have left them in the cottage in Wales.

In the morning we saw squirrels frolicking under the trees and I saw two groups of parrots (yes, parrots) fly over. Then while we were watching out from our bedroom window, a small deer came across towards the building. We also saw a woodpecker busily looking for grubs in the lawn - very special.

Our last day in England was a bit of a non-event. We decided just to drive for a while so headed down to Basingstoke where we had lunch. AFter lunch we headed up through Newbury, where our friend George works, and then onto the M4 back to Heathrow. We got to the airport a little too early and they wouldn't let us check in for a couple of hours so we just found a seat and read our books for a while until it was check in time. The flight to Singapore wasn't as good as it could have been as they had put us into inside sides in the middle group across the cabin so we didn't have an aisle seat between us. Having an aisle seat makes it much easier to get in and out to go to the toilet without disturbing others. The young bloke sitting next to Pat was a bit of a mongrel who made his displeasure at being disturbed well known - tough!

Wales (4), England Phase 2

On Saturday morning it was time to pack up and head back to England so that we wouldn't have to rush to make our plane from Heathrow on Monday night. After packing up and saying our goodbyes to Lisa at the Cottages, we headed east on the A44 which would take us through Llangurig and Rhyader and eventually to Worcester. As we progressed eastwards the nature of the countryside changed from the wildish terrain of the Cambrian Mountains and then through between the Brecon Beacons to the south and the Black Mountains to the north until, in Herefordshire it was back to rolling fields and hedgerows. The closer we got to Worcester the more 'English' the countryside became.

We had thought to stay a night at Worcester but the Saturday traffic in the city was so dreadful that we couldn't bear the thought of trying to find somewhere to stay in the mad melee so carried on eastwards. Stratford-upon-Avon is only about 25 miles away from Worcester so it seemed like a good alternative. It was busy in Stratford too but we parked the car and had a walk around the town. It was again wuite busy but more with tourists than stressed out shoppers. We couldn't find suitable accomodation in Stratford but the lady at the information centre found us a room at Salford Manor just north of Evesham. This turned out to be quite a nice hotel set in a bit of land just outside Salford village. It had originally been a guest house for Salford Priory and dated back to the 1500s. We didn't discover the only flaw for our stay until we went to bed that night - the bedsprings were totally knackered and we had to sleep hanging onto the sides of the bed to avoid crashing together in the middle. There's always something!

Apart from the bed the Salford Manor hotel was good. At dinner, Pat couldn't face anything on the menu so asked for just a poached egg on toast which they had not the slightest hesitation in accepting on the order. When you get service like that it highlights the contrast between that and the 'must stick to the script' restaurants which seem to be the norm. Our room was not in the main building but in another separate wing but only a short stroll to the main building for dinner, and for breakfast the following morning. Memo to self - check the bed in future to make sure it doesn't date from the same era as the building!

Bath (2)

Saturday night in Bath was quite noisy. Our room overlooked Walcot Street so we got direct experience of any boisterous behaviour going on as people made their ways home after watching the local football team, which was playing at home, followed by the inevitable post-match post mortems. Also, being the last weekedn before November 5th - Guy Ffawkes Day - many people were celebrating the event on Saturday night rather than during the week. All in all it made for a disturbed night for us 'stay -ins'.

On Sunday we were scheduled to drive to Chippenham to George and Christine's place and then we were all going to Abingdon in the one car to neet the rest of the gang for lunch. Getting to Chippenham was easy enough - just a matter of following Walcot Street in the opposite direction to the city onto the A4. Once in Chippenham I did a bit of 'nose following' and lucked out onto the correct road and then it was just a short drive to Christine and George's house. The choice of which weekend to meet up with Christine and Goerge was contingent on a few factors, one of which was that while we were on the first part of journey - I to Russia and then the UK, Pat to the UK - Christine was in Sydney visiting their daughter Caroline who is pregnant with her second child. Christine arrived back in London only on Saturday morning (3rd).

It was good to meet up with them again though we have kept in touch and have met them a couple or so times in Australia. I'd also visited George in 1995 during a company visit to Milton Keynes so I had a good idea of where there house is which helped with the navigation.

We duly set off for Abingdon in Georges comfortable Jaguar. Abingdon had been chosen for lunch as it is where Ed my old boss from Nairobi lives with his wife Pat. Ed was about to have a cataract operation and Pat didn't want him driving long distances. We were also to meet up with others there - Chris and his partner Rosie, and Ian, unfortunately without his wife Jean who had a prior engagement. In no time at all we were at The Four Pillars Motel in Abingdon where Ed had booked lunch. All of the others were already there and it was great to catch up with them all again. I had visited Ed and Pat also back in 1995 on another company trip and again in August this year during a very short visit to London. However, my Pat had not seen them at all in the 30+ years since we left Kenya although she has been diligent in keeping in touch by letter.

By the time we got to the lunch table we were in full swing with the intervening years peeling away. Christine had brought a photograph taken at a Halloween fancy dress party which had been hosted by Jean and Ian back in 1973. We men had been roped into dressing up as the seven dwarfs and there were a couple of dwarfs not present so it was a question of 'do you know who the other dwarfs were?'. To fill out the memory Ian had brought along some red conical hats and name signs so we the five dwarfs present had to be photographed in the hat and with name card - see below.
A man from another table was kind enough to take some photographs for us - five of the seven dwarfs and partners 33 years older.

The hotel waiting staff were very tolerant as were other lunch parties because there was a lot of hilarity going on at our table. Actually one of the other large lunch parties was for a christening and as they were leaving one of the ladies presented us all with a piece of the christening cake.

Having started lunch at about 1:30 it was close to 5pm when we broke up to go our separate ways. We went back to Chippenham with George and Christine. George was trying to point out some of the sights along the way such as Avebury Ring but it was a bit too dark to see anything. We also went through Marlborough where there is famous Public (private) School. George did mention some current celebrity who had gone there but since celebrities don't register on my radar I've forgotten whom he mentioned (sorry George).

After a bit more discussion at Christine and George's place we headed back to Bath to prepare for our onward journey tomorrow - Monday.

Bath

Our next destination was the city of Bath. We had arranged to meet up with our friends George and Christine and some of the other people we had become friends with during our two-year sojourn in Nairobi in the early 1970s. Christine and George live in Chippenham and Bath seemed to be a reasonably close place to stay. Leaving the Crylla Valley/Plymouth area we headed North-East to Exeter, this time taking the reasonably direct route along the A38. Bypassing Exeter we chose not to use the M5 which would have given us a reasonable fast route towards Bristol but instead selected the A30/A303/A37 which, while slower, would take us through some nice countryside in Somerset.

The lunch-time stop was in the country town of Shepton Mallett where we lunched in a little cafe/restaurant which seemed to be quite popular with the locals. Actually several of the locals seemed to be stereotypes of what a person from rural Somerset should look like - particularly some of the men resplendent with bushy side-whiskers. Nevertheless it was a pleasant place to eat before we headed on the relatively short remaining distance to Bath.

Leaving Shepton Mallett we bypassed Midsomer Norton on our way to Bath, mindful of its namesake association with 'The Midsomer Murders' TV series. Being Friday Bath was quite busy when we arrived. We didn't have a city map so just followed the blue parking signs to a large carpark near the city centre. I was able to get a map from a vending machine at the carpark but it was incredibly difficult to follow, being one of the arty pictorial kind of map. By following the general flow of people we were able to make our way to the main shopping area and have a bit of a stroll around. We had booked a room at the Bath Hilton for three nights and knew only that it was on Walcot Street. Although able to find the street on the map, it gave little help in telling us how to get there from where we were parked.

Anyway after walking up through the town with its Friday shopping and tourist crowds we turned back towards the carpark but came out by the Green Park Station markets and had a stroll along the river bank towards the car park. That was a bit of an experience too as, although there were some other people walking, it seemed to be the haunt of some economically challenged people. There were some such loitering around and signs of more long-term occupation. However, we didn't encounter any problems but were glad to get back to the carpark.

Now trying to find our way back to Walcot Street by road was a frustrating experience. I navigated perfectly in the general direction which was a feat given the one-way road system. When we were actually quite close to our destination I missed a turn and ended up on the wrong side of the river. Asking for directions from a local also was the usual experience of them being happy to help but not being very clear about what 'go straight through' means at a 'T' intersection. We found ourselves in a back street which, I found out later, was directly across the river from the hotel. After consulting the useless map once again I saw that we actually only had to continue forward to the next interesection, take two left turns and we would be on the right street.

The Bath Hilton is actually right near the centre of Bath near the Pultenay Bridge. It doesn't have a carpark of its own but uses/shares the carpark underneath with the shopping plaza next door - at £15 per night! Since there was no parking in front of the hotel we drove down into the car park and then left our luggage there while we went to check in. I managed to obtain the services of a bell boy to come down to the car park and help me bring the luggage back up as there isn't any elevator access from the carpark to the hotel. I think the English hotel trade still has a lot of catching up to do with the rest of the world! Our 'room' (a euphemism for a double broom-closet) had barely enough room to edge sideways around the bed and not much more at the foot of the bed. Clearly they don't expect people to occupy the rooms except to sleep. It would probably have been adequate for a single bed. We had to get them to send up a service operative (a young lad with a pair of pliers) to get the water radiator heater going when the temperature started to drop.

On the following day (Saturday) we did a bit more wandering around the town and looking at the sights including the Cathedral.

We also walked across the Pultenay Bridge and before visiting the Guildhall Markets had a look at the weir downstream of the bridge.

The hotel restaurant overlooks the river with views of the upstream side of the Pultenay Bridge and glimpses of the weir underneath.

Cornwall (3)

For our last full day in Cornwall we decided to dedicate some time to visiting The Eden Project, just west near St Austell. It again turned out to be a sunny day which was good as we expected to be spending some time out doors visiting the project. Getting there was relatively easy and since it was both late in the season and early in the day we had no trouble with queueing to get in. The project is set up in a disused china-clay pit (china-clay is still mined near St Austell), and the view from the reception building shows a surreal landscape.
As well as the main environments set up to the left of the picture above, there is an education facility in what is know as The Core. We went into the 'tropical' biome but it was so hot and stifling inside that we didn't go too far or stay too long. Nevertheless, it is very interesting to see what can be done in a cool temperate climate when you provide the protective infrastructure. The other biome houses species from warm temperate areas including Australia, South Africa, and North and South America. Outside are many gardens planted in a wide variety of local and exotic vegetation. Because of its placement in the bottom of what is, essentially, a large quarry the project area enjoys a fairly warm micro-climate anyway. Even the insects thrive - see the giant Bee above!

We had taken the free tractor-train ride down from the reception centre into the quarry and took the elevator from the low level up through the education centre to 'The Iron Bridge' leading back to the reception centre.The picture above is a view inside the warm-temperate biome where bacchanalian scenes are played out by these bronze sculptures. Who knows what goes on in here when its dark.

Two related aspects of the project disappointed me. A section of one of the domes has been converted to an ice rink. Also, at the top of the elevator is a fairground ride sort of thing comprising old London Taxicab mockups in which you can be serenaded by Elvis Presley. These two things together made me feel that the place was departing from its serious and worthy intentions and turning into a theme park.

After a good tour through the facility, we left St Austell to head north and then eastwards again. We lunched at the small town of Bodmin at a fairly new restaurant with a mildly Spanish theme. Pat had her third mushroom soup which was quite different from any of the previous ones and nowhere near as good. We headed across Bodmin Moor but still no sign of the beast and, passing through Launceston (not Tasmania), we headed back to our cottage for our last night in Cornwall.

Cornwall (2)

For our second full day in Cornwall we headed west again but this time on the main A390 passing through St Austell, Truro, before joining up to The A394 taking us to Penzance. The weather had been perfect for our trip so far and this day was no exception. A little cooler than we are accustomed to back home but bright and sunny anyway.

On the way to Penzance we turned off at Helston to detour to The Lizard where there were some great views.
I took a walk right down to the water's edge at Lizard Point and took the photo above looking back up 'the boat ramp' which was at the bottom end of the walk.

Just before we got to Penzance we detoured to Marazion to view St Michaels Mount. This was quite appropriate because we knew that Garth was also visiting Mt St Michel in France today. I sent him an SMS from Marazion to celebrate the occassion.

The Cornish St Michaels Mount was not open for tourists at this time of year so we had to be content with viewing it from the distance. I haven't researched the history buut I wonder if there wasn't a bit of copy-catting going on?

Duly arriving in Penzance we didn't spot a single pirate (at least not one wearing conventional pirate garb). What a rip off! After lunching in Penzance (I had another 'only authentic Cornish Pasty') we headed for Lands End. Looking out past the lighthouse we were able to 'just' see the Scilly Isles on the horizon.The photograph doesn't really do it justice but it does show what a pleasant day it was.

Feeling a bit 'sighted out' we turned around and meandered back via the A30 again to relax for the remains of the day at 'our cottage'.

I took the opportunity of the free PC and broadband internet access at the cottages to check email and attempt to make some onward hotel bookings with zero success. Ho hum - but that's another story.

Cornwall

From our base at Crylla Valley Cottages we were able to set out and explore Cornwall. After our first night there we decided to head westwards along the coast to experience some of the many small villages. Our first visit was to the small village of Portwrinkle - pretty much due south of our 'abode'. We reached Portwrinkle via St German and Crabhole along some very narrow and windy lanes nestled between high hedgerows.

The challenge of motoring along these narrow lanes with poor visibility is that you never quite know when you are going to be confronted by an oncoming vehicle and with no way to pass. The only way forward is to go backwards, so to speak, so we found ourselves reversing to the last known passing point which was generally not too far behind us. There is an unspoken negotiation which goes on with these events. As we were unfamiliar with the protocol it was generally us doing the reversing. This sort of experience does tend to sharpen up ones driving skills which have probably dropped off a bit due to being spoiled rotten on roads where two vehicles can pass in opposite directions anywhere.

After a few more close encounters of the vehicular kind we got back onto a more regular road and headed west to Polperro. My sister, Evelyn and brother-in-law Peter had told us that they enjoyed a few days stay in Polperro on there trip to England in 1982 so we were interested to see this village. Polperro is a vehicle free village, except for local vehicles, as it is nestled at the head of a small cove and its 'streets' are very narrow lanes. There is a large car park where you have to leave your car (pay/display) as you walk down through the village or take the motorised 'tram' or a horse-drawn version (charge). We opted to walk down through the village but took the motorised tram back up to the carpark.

The village is a fair stereotype of the typical Cornish 'Smuggler's Cove' type of village and with the rise of tourism they cash in on every opportunity with many shops selling 'the only authentic Cornish Pasty available'. Other shops sell touristy knick-knacks.
This shop was decorated with carvings of Cornish Piskies and other mythical creatures.

This local pub also rises to the occassion with a ships figurehead below the sign.


After Portperro we headed west through St Austell and as far as Falmouth where we took a tour through the town. We got a bit slowed down by very slow traffic heading north-west towards Redruth to connect with the A30 which would take us north-east towards Bodmin (of 'beast' legend). It was still blowing our minds at the relatively small distances involved in travelling here.

Exeter to Plymouth

Leaving Exeter for the relatively short journey to Plymouth, we turned inland so that we could cross Dartmoor. This was a very pleasant drive on quite a sunny day. There were a lot of people in the National Park, some there to go walking, others like us who were just driving and sightseeing. A popular attraction was the little Dartmoor ponies who seemed quite accustomed to human presence.
We carried on through the moor past Princetown, joining up with the A386 which took us right into Plymouth. Garth was to leave us at Plymouth and travel back to London by train so we made a point of finding the railway station as soon as we reached the city centre so that we would know where to come back to mid-afternoon. Like many English towns which have gown over many years with no coherent planning until quite recently, Plymouth was confusing to find our way around. While trying to find our way to The Barbican where the information centre is located, we came across a couple of Police Constables on the beat and they were kind enough to direct us. Of course, being a fine Sunday in Autumn, the next problem was to find a carpark but we managed to locate one down by the wharf below the Hoe. From there it was a short walk to the Barbican information centre where we were able to get information about hotels etc. After lunch we went to a Holiday Inn just nearby and they had a room available (and parking and elevators!). I did the initial part of the check in thinking that would save time after dropping Garth back at the railway station.

Now that we knew our way around Plymouth, or at least the parts that mattered, we were able to take Garth back to the railway station without getting lost at all, although the Sunday afternoon traffic was a bit of a pain. Arriving back at the hotel, the receptionist couldn't find our check in information even though it was only 45 minutes since we had been there! Eventually we got it sorted out.

On Monday morning, rather than eat an overpriced but mostly unneeded breakfast in the hotel, we made our way back down to the Barbican and had breakfast in a little cafe there. After breakfast we went back to the info centre to see if they would be able to book us some self-catering accomodation but while they have information available on such, apparently they don't do bookings. Anyway we found a coffee shop and I was able to call and make a booking myself. We had located, in one of the tourism guides we picked up along the way, some self-catering cottages (Crylla Valley Cottages) at Saltash just across the Tamar River not far west of Plymouth. Normally such cottages are let on a Saturday in-out basis but, being ouside the high season, they were happy to let us have one for three nights. The directions they gave us for finding the place were spot on and it turned out to be one of the best decisions we made during the holiday. The cottages are fairly new and the one that we had, had lounge, kitchen, dining downstairs and fully kitted out with washing machine/drier. Upstairs was the large double bedroom and bathroom facilities. Heating was by electric storage heaters which were quite adequate even when it turned quite chilly on our second night there.

Being self-catering of course we had to stock up on some food items but there is a Waitrose Supermarket near Saltash which carried everything that we needed so we were able to set up a nice little base for our Cornish explorations.

Salisbury to Exeter

The room we stayed in at the Grasmere Court Hotel must have been the honeymoon suite because the bedsprings were incredibly noisy.
However, the view from the window, looking back over the town and the cathedral was good. Whether it made up for having to lug our heavy suitacases up three flights of stairs is debatable.

Our destination on this, Saturday 28th October was Exeter we we reached via Stonehenge, Dorchester, and a few assorted places in between. Getting to Stonehenge from Salisbury was straightforward, taking us about half an hour to complete the journey. We arrived before official opening time but this was no problem as adequate views of 'the Henge' can be seen from the roadside. Even if admitted to the area on payment of a fee, you aren't allowed to get close to the monoliths so its seems rather pointless going in at all. I have to say that the whole experience was rather unfulfilling, but at least we could 'tick the box'.

Driving away from Stonehenge we thought that we were taking the A303 which would take us to intersect with the A350 where we could head south to Dorchester. Somehow the road turned into the A344 taking us north to Devizes. I realised this when I saw the name/distance markers had unfamiliar names -not ones which I had gleaned from our proposed route. However, after a quick check of the map we realised the error and saw that we could correct it by cutting west on the B390 which would take us onto the A36 and thence to the A350. Again, we weren't in a hurry so it gave us the chance to traverse some countryside we wouldn't otherwise have seen. I understand that during WWII all of the road signage was removed so that any invading forces or spies dropped to reconnoitre would have difficulty finding their way around. I have to say that we would have been totally lost without the generally good signage available now.

Salisury plain has lots of military establishments and on our (unexpected) way to Warminster we passed the occasional 'tank crossing' sign. We were continually surprised by distances being less than we expected. I guess we get so used to 'the wide open spaces' in Australia that the relatively short distances in England take us by surprise.

Reaching Dorchester at around midday we experienced the usual English town problem of finding a car park on 'shopping day'. By queueing patiently we were able to get into a carpark near the town centre and, once in, had no problem finding a park. A short walk away was the main town shopping centre and various acknowledgments and monuments to Thomas Hardy. Hardy's fictional town Casterbridge was based on Dorchester and the townsfolk haven't been slow to cash in on the fictional historical link.
It's interesting to see how the fictional history becomes so enmeshed with the reality of the place that it takes on a life of its own. After making a few purchases at Marks and Spencers we had lunch in another local department store's cafe which was also quite busy. This photo shows a plaque outside what was supposed to have been the Mayor of Casterbridge's house.

Extracting ourselves from the carpark after lunch was almost as painful as getting in but eventually we were clear and on our way to Weymouth. There we had a bit of a stroll around before heading west on the coastal 'B' road which was bound to be much more interesting and less stressful than the busy main road. Unfortunately we had to join up with the A road at Bridport but shortly after were able to divert to the coast again on the Lyme Regis, Seaton, etc road going also through Ottery St Mary.

We seemed unable to break our pattern of arriving at our destination at the busiest time of the day and so we got to Exeter late on the Saturday afternoon. Leaving Pat in the car as she had a headache Garth and I tracked down the information centre and managed to find a hotel for the night. As we had come to expect, our room was on the 3rd floor, there was no elevator and no porter. The lady in charge seemed reminiscent of Basil Fawlty but that could have just been because we were pretty tired at the end of the day. The ultimate pain was that we had to park the car in a residential area two streets away because the hotel had no parking at all!
We enjoyed traditional fish and chips from a traditional chippy just down the road. Chatting with them while we waited we were pleased to discover that they would not do battered Mars Bars! (Mostly, it seemed, because it would destroy their process flow)

Time Warp

Entering Long Whatton from Kegworth Lane that Friday morning was like stepping back 30 years. Little seemed to have changed in the centre of the village apart from a few more houses going up between the garage was and Mill Lane where we used to live. We had a quick drive through and noticed a lot of additional housing at the Loughborough end of the village. After a drive down Mill Lane we parked at the end outside what used to be Jane and Mike's thatched cottage (still thatched) and had a stroll for a short way down. 'Our' house (number 3) seemed pretty unchanged as did the adjoing house.

Pat outside "Mike and Jane's" with 'our'
house and No 5 in the background

In the photo above that's the grey Vauxhall Zafira we were driving.

While remeniscing about old times we wondered if, perchance, our old neighbours still lived there. While knocking on the door I saw a man sitting there who was undoubtedly the same Aubrey. On untroducing myself as he opened the door he pointed to Garth standing behind me - "You're the one who used to try to strangle your sister out the back" which caused much laughter.

Aubrey and Jackie

We sat and had a cup of tea with Jackie and Aubrey while catching up on old times - a lot happens in 30+ years. It was good to see them both in very good health and still enjoying life.

Inevitably we had to leave so headed south travelling mostly on the Fosse Way which traverses modern roads with mostly 'A' names and pretty much follows the original Roman road. Navigating Coverntry's Ring Road was exciting with a more-than-usually lavish serving of roundabouts. By intently following the road markers ('Axxx' etc) we made it through without any more hassle than being in the wrong lane at one rab and having to quickly navigate left before being swamped by another influx of cars. Oh, and of course, Coventry's ring-road rabs are a testimony to their ineffectiveness at handling high traffic volumes - they are all fitted with traffic lights as well.

We passed through some lovely scenery typical of the English countryside at its best. Following the Fosse Way put us onto roads that were generally smaller than the busy through roads but the drive was all the more pleasant because of it. We lunched at a pub in Stow in the Wold which was just a short detour off our route. Afterwards we came to Bourton on Water which is one of the quintessentially picturesque Cotswold villages which grace calendars and to which tourists flock. Garth was driving so took us for a spin through the village. Remember it was Friday but the village was full of car and bus loads of tourists. It was certainly very picturesque but made us realise that living in such a pretty place is probably not all that its cracked up to be with hoardes of tourists all year round.

We had decided to make Salisbury our overnight stop so eventually arrived in the town right in the evening rush period. We had located a potential hotel to stay at so, while we were crawling through the town traffic I gave them a call. After checking that rooms were available I asked them to give me directions from where we were and then, after clearing through the traffic jams we arrived at Grasmere Court hotel not too much the worse for wear. Of course it was another typical English country hotel with no elevators and no porter so we had to lug our heavy bags up three flights to our rooms. The bright spot of it was that we had practically the whole of the top floor - two bedrooms and a sitting room (there was a third, unoccupied, bedroom) with wonderful views back over the town and the famous cathedral. This was also to be the only hotel at which I was successful in using a pre-paid voucher.

Pat wasn't particularly hungry so Garth and I walked back to a place we had spotted which seemed to a be a member of some family fast-food chain but their meals were OK. The place was pretty full and decked out in Halloween themes - including the waiting staff. The English seem to have picked up on the American trends in celebrating Halloween and while it is a bit of fun for the young kids, tends to be taken to excess by older 'kids' who can get quite nasty.

Into the Unknown

Following Frank's directions got us out of London without too much hassle although we did end up on the M1 at one stage. We could have taken the M1 all the way up to Nottingham - just a two-hour blast but boring, boring, boring! Eventually we were on our chosen route up the A11 and coming to grips with Brit road builders favourite toy - the roundabout. Unable to decide which road deserves priority they opt for an egalitarian solution that slows everyone down. And just when you being self-congratulatory about clearing one busy rab (roundabout) there is another to test your resolve and determination. Ho hum.

On one stretch of road we were following a small car with four passengers at quite a resonable speed - around 60mph - when a rab approached (I honestly got the feeling that they approached us rather than vice versa). Well short of the rab the car in front executed what was close to an emergency braking manouvre, so rapid was the deceleration. Fortunately I was quick enough to avoid rear-ending it. At the next rab after that one, following this little car into the rab I was looking intently to the right and inadvertently let our car roll a few inches. I had thought that they had carried through but no - they'd stopped again unexpectedly with the result that they got a nudge in the tail. They were about to jump out and check it out right there but I waved them to pull off to the left exit and we followed them down to sus out any damage. Well there wasn't any damage to either vehicle, not so much as a mark in the dust so we shook hands, they thanked me for stopping and we carried on our way. Oh me.

We lunched at a Little Chef where we were amused when Pat wanted just Egg on Toast (strictly speaking a breakfast-only dish and served only until 11am) and when the bill cam it was itemised to 1 slice of toast and 1 egg.

Passing through Ely during the lunch period we missed a turn and ended up going through the very busy main street. Nothing to do but keep going until we got back on the right track but just the first of our many experiences of country towns with narrow streets and too much traffic.

Crossing the Wash we had to wait at one of the canals as the bridge was up. The countryside there is quite reminiscent of Holland being very flat with canals and windmills. Actually they aren't far apart geographically anyway. After an otherwise uneventful drive we ended up in Nottingham late in the afternoon. Fortunately my memory put us on the right road to Long Eaton but the traffic was very heavy and slow - much worse than when I used to drive here in the early 1970s. Going past Nottingham Uni brought back a lot of old memories.

When we got to Long Eaton we had a bit of trouble locating the hotel but they gave us directions and we eventually found the place. A lot of development had gone on there too. Most of the south end of the town which had just been open country is now built up with residential development. The Ramada Inn was much as we expected but without elevators. Fortunately only two stories so not too many flights to carry the bags.

Next morning (Friday) we set off to our old village - Long Whatton. I lost my bearings a bit and we saw quite a bit of countryside that we didn't expect to see ending up close to Derby before backtracking and eventually finding Kegworth - a village close to where we wanted to be. I remembered Kegworth well - especially the time it was raining on my motorcycle ride home from the Uni and I couldn't get the engine restarted after stopping in Long Eaton. I ended up pushing the bike about 7 miles including up the hill in the back of Kegworth on the lane towards Long Whatton. We drove down that lane and passed the farm where the farmer had taken pity on me as he saw me pushing the bike. He let me put the bike in his barn and gave me a ride home.

Long Whatton didn't appear to be much different as we entered from the North West. The countryside still looked very much the same as we remembered and again we were flooded with memories. More in the next post.

England my England

Our holiday plan for England was to spend most of the time visiting a part of the country we had not been to before - the West Country of Devon and Cornwall. However, during their journey to meet me in London, and while there in the day or so before I arrived, Pat and Garth had discovered a yearning to revisit the village that we lived in the early 1970's and I must admit that I was not averse to seeing what had happened in the place in the intervening 30+ years.

We settled in Long Whatton, Leicestershire in early 1971 on arrival from New Zealand on a 'working holiday' along with the three kids aged 5 and 6. After a few weeks on the unemployment register trying to find a job, I landed a position at Nottingham University as a Research Assistant in the Economics Department. I was attached to an economic forecasting project and my job was to take the formulae given me by the academic members of the project and turn them into Algol programs and then run the collected datasets through them so that they could analyse the results. After doing that for about six months I landed a more permanent and better paid position in the Cripps Computer Centre which is where I was until leaving the Uni in February 1974.

Living in the small village through those few years was a good time of our lives. We didn't have much money but we had a great environment to live and work in and the kids were able to attend the local village school which was about 30 metres from our front door. Anyway, a chance to revisit old memories was all the urging that any of us needed to make a detour via Nottingham on our way to the West Country.

On the Thursday morning we checked out of the Corus Hotel and left Pat guarding the luggage in the foyer while Garth and I walked along Bayswater to Marble Arch to pick up the rental car. Since Garth was going to be with us for a few days we had extra luggage to cart around so we got a larger vehicle than I had booked - a Vauxhall (Opel/Holden) Zafira with 19l diesel engine and 6-speed manual mixer. The old(er) chap who got the car ready for us, gave us lots of advice about how to get back to the hotel, and more importantly the way to head north east out of London on our meandering way to Nottingham. We had decided to head up the A11 via Cambridge and Ely to the Wash and then cut back over through Grantham to Nottingham and end up at Long Eaton for the night. It turns out that Frank had been evacuated to the Ely/Wash area during the war so new the area well. He'd apparently run away a couple of times before being settled with a family that was a bit kinder to him.

So we left the Alomo Rental depot with me at the helm of a strange vehicle in a strange town. Frank's directions included taking a turn around Marble Arch to get onto Bayswater Road which was quite exciting but after that it was reasonably straightforward to get to the hotel - the only problem then being to find a legit parking space. Garth went in to get Pat and I stayed outside making sure we didn't get a parking ticket which wouldn't have been a good way to start off our adventures.

Eventually we were on the road and generally following Frank's navigational directions to get out of London. Next post I'll pick up on our journey northwards.