Monday 13th June 2022. After a very smooth drive down to Shirley*, West Midlands, I went for an un-panniered ride out to Shropshire to link up with a ride I did back in April from Shrewsbury. It’s all about linking up these red lines on a map for me! Except that this week, it’s a bit more than that.
* Despite what any government minister may assert, this area is lovely and far from godawful. In fact, driving through Birmingham city centre this morning was surprisingly enjoyable. [This was commenting on Tory MP Heather Wheeler calling Birmingham ‘Godawful’ a few days earlier]
I have a low-level desire to cycle in all the English counties, and I’ve so far covered 28 out of the 48 since I started using Strava in 2012. This week, on my imaginatively named ‘Ten Counties Tour’, I will add a further four new ones, starting with the West Midlands. (For the pedants (and I know who you are!), I’m only including the ceremonial counties, not Unitary Authorities). Out of interest, as well at the West Midlands, I also cycled in Staffordshire, Shropshire and Worcestershire today, although on the tiny back roads that I use, county boundaries do not usually warrant a road sign.
I deliberately went through Longbridge (the initial origin of several of my previously owned Austin or Rover vehicles) but I was surprised to find nothing left of the 400 acre manufacturing site. It’s all been given over to housing now, and apart from a sad-looking Austin Sports and Social club, the entire factory appears to have been expunged. I’m not sure what I expected, but not what I saw. I suppose it is 20 years ago now… I didn’t even feel the ghosts of all the men and women who owed their financial security to this industry during the previous century. (After looking more closely at Google Earth, I think I’ve located the site which was a further 1/4 mile from where I was. There is a vast open space which appears to be bare earth upon which probably sat the manufacturing site.)
I also travelled quite close to the Cadbury factory, but not close enough to smell it, thankfully. I’d taken butties from home and ate these in a village called Kinver. I’d never heard of the place before, but it’s really pretty. I believe Kinver Edge is a local beauty spot which attracts people from around the region. I also had a lovely cake and coffee in the village tea shop on my return through the village (my route was a figure of eight, with Kinver at the crossover point). To be truthful, the cake was rather too large and sweet, but I persevered and finished it all.
I’m leaving my car in Shirley (near Solihull) for a few days while I embark on a route around and through the Cotswolds over the next few days. And the good thing is, the weather’s on my side! Yay!
I’m really not a food snob, but… I booked a table at a local hostelry recommended by my B&B owner and at 6pm, the earliest table I could book was 7:45. I took this as a good sign: the establishment must be busy, and hence popular and therefore good quality. Take my advice and don’t fall for that ploy! When I arrived, I found that the place was huge, and almost empty. I ordered food from the (admittedly very inexpensive) menu, and within a couple of minutes, the starter (breaded mushrooms) arrived. Clearly, that was how long it took to microwave them. Once I’d finished, I was asked if I wanted my main course (lasagne). I answered in the affirmative, and the dish appeared in the time it took for the waitress to walk to the kitchen and back! Normally, prompt service is to be applauded, but in this case, I’m not so sure. The menu informed me the calorific value of the dishes (960 kcal), but that was really all that I got from the meal. I can categorically state that there was no love included in neither the ingredients nor the preparation. But I’m full now. Can’t order any pud after that huge cake in the afternoon: my system couldn’t cope with any more sugar.
Tuesday 14th June 2022. My host was really helpful (I’ve chosen to forget his advice re. the food last night) and provided the perfect environment for a good night’s sleep. Consequently, I was on the road early and soon eating a very enjoyable breakfast at a café close by.
My route today went through the very leafy suburban streets and parks in Solihull before heading off towards Coventry, passing so close to the University of Warwick that I felt I had to make a short diversion to see it once more. Many years ago I spent an enjoyable summer school week there and later, I spent one week every quarter at the Warwick Manufacturing Group helping to deliver a training course.
I actually couldn’t recall any of the place today. But the summer school was in 1986 and the training courses in 1995/96, so was very much last century. While sitting on a bench in the central campus I was approached by a security guard who asked if I had seen anything unusual recently. He’d had reports of someone taking their clothes off! Very odd.
Much of the journey today was within sight of the construction of HS2. It seems to be disproportionately affecting the countryside around here with wide swathes of bare earth as far as the eye can see and road closed signs at every junction. Thankfully, only one of the closed roads affected me and that was just 5 miles from my digs.
Speaking of which, I’ve let lucky again tonight with a beautiful room with en suite. The B&B is just across the road from a pub, but once more, I don’t really think I’m going to experience fine dining. But all I want is calories, really.
The food was infinitely better than last night; it was mediocre. I had steak pudding, chips and peas. There weren’t any starters as such, just odd things like a cheesy topped nachos sharer, a bucket of chicken wings, breaded mushrooms (I had those yesterday) and a chip butty. Yes, really!
I’ve been forced outside to finish my pint. It seems that there is a football game on, which is being shown on numerous TVs around the pub with the volume on stupidly loudly. (Do they assume football supporters are all deaf?)
Two ‘new’ counties today: Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire, plus West Midlands, Warwickshire and Northamptonshire which I’d already got.
Although I’m staying in Bicester, I’ve not seen anything of the town yet. My digs are on the outskirts, and I don’t fancy venturing into the centre tonight. I’ve only been here once before many years ago (1982) when a friend threw a ’round the clock’ party for his Ford Cortina which had just covered 100,000 miles. Any excuse for a party when we were young, eh?
Wednesday 15th June 2022. The B&B (it was a real B&B, not just Airbnb) offered breakfast in the price. This consisted of tea/coffee, smart price cereals and white bread for toast with tiny plastic tubs of Flora and jam. This was fine since it was free and filled me up. I was on the road by 9am.
Who’s been watching the latest Kevin McCloud Grand Designs TV programmes highlighting a group of self-builders in Bicester? I have enjoyed watching the various builders wrestle with the seemingly compulsory financial and practical problems each week. Staying in Bicester provided the ideal opportunity to visit the site in Graven Hill, although I expected that by now almost all the properties would have been completed. I was wrong. The area is still a vast building site, interspersed with occasional completed houses with occupants trying to live their best life alongside concrete trucks, dumpers, vacant plots and dozens of people in hi-viz vests. The buildings that were finished generally seemed to be built by commercial entities and were recognisable by their uniformity. Many of the self-builds appeared to be rather self-conscious amongst the rest of the properties. I felt that they really needed to be in their own grounds to fulfil the architectural statement they were striving to achieve. I recognised some of the properties featured on TV, but sadly didn’t see Kevin delivering one of his monologues. It was only 9:15am though.
I was in ‘red kite’ country all morning, but despite gazing skywards for much of the journey, I only saw one which was too far away to photograph.
I was planning to have morning coffee in Chipping Norton, but before I got there I was tempted to visit a village called Great Tew which was down a road signposted ‘village only’. I’m glad I did visit since it was beautiful, and it had a delightful coffee shop called the Quince and Clover (in case you’re ever in this region). It was very expensive, but the location (just about) justified it. Their website boasts “We specialise in high-end, professional event catering for beautiful weddings and parties.” They coped admirably serving a sweaty cyclist who only wanted a flat white and a slice of cake. The waiter even chatted about my journey, but then tried to tell me I was going the wrong way! It seems that he was affronted that I wasn’t taking the most direct straight line route between my start and end points. He clearly misunderstood the concept of cycle touring.
I visited two villages and skirted a third whose names ended in -under-Wychwood (Milton, Shipton and Ascott, if you’re interested), yet I couldn’t see on the map the Wychwood that they purported to be under. Great names, though.
I ran a two-café strategy today, with a takeaway club sandwich from Aldi for lunch. It worked well since today’s distance wasn’t excessive and it was great to spend quite a bit of time just relaxing whilst listening in to the conversations of my fellow diners in the cafés. It’s not being nosey: it’s just ‘people watching’ but using my ears instead of eyes.
I arrived at my digs in a beautiful village called Ashton Keynes a few miles south of Cirencester. It’s not quite as picturesque as Bourton-on-the-Water, but it has the same vibe in parts. My host said to check in after 4pm. I arrived at 4.45, but there was no-one in. After 20 minutes sitting in a park, I tried again; still no reply. So I was forced to take refuge in the pub next door. At least they serve real ale, and they were playing some great music on the sound system so it wasn’t a great hardship.
I’m booked in this pub for tea soon, so I’ll be back as soon as I’ve checked in and showered.
[Later]
I’ve just enjoyed a wonderful meal which has restored my faith in British pub catering. I chose from the specials board and the sea bass was delicious! (I was also ear-wigging again and was interested to hear someone on the next table order a steak medium rare, and another person requested steak medium well done. Not sure how the chef coped with that).
I’m now back in my digs listening to the a capella singers who’ve just started in the pub. I can cope with that sort of noise pollution.
Thursday 16th June 2022. With all the excitement of finding a good pub to eat in yesterday, I forgot to mention that I travelled through three counties: Oxfordshire, Gloucestershire and a new one for me (at least in the Strava era), Wiltshire. I have cycled round the Cotswolds previously in the days pre-Strava, but as the adage goes, ‘if it ain’t on Strava, it didn’t happen’ which is why I’m here again. I’m happy about that, though since it’s a beautiful region. No more new counties today; just repeating ones I’ve already visited this week.
From the very flat Thames flood plain, I headed North and once past Cirencester the road began to climb, just gently, but it was persistent. The roads were very quiet and the temperature a perfect 20°C so I really enjoyed the trip up to Bourton-on-the-Water. The place was teeming with visitors, and I had to wonder where they had all parked: none were on bikes. Watching (and listening) to the world go by over a coffee and a scone in the warm sunshine at the Bourton Riverside Café was idyllic. And it really felt like the world was going by judging by the accents. I can imagine that Americans in particular would love this place, since it was still bedecked in its jubilee union flag bunting. Even the river (called the Windrush) has a wonderfully poetic sound to its name. The town was too busy for me, however: I was glad to escape to the relative solitude of pretty hamlets going by such impressive names as Upper and Lower Slaughter and Upper and Lower Swell.
I visited Stow-on-the-Wold but not for long. Too busy.
Lunch was in the pretty town of Chipping Campden where all the tea shops were heaving. I did find a quiet little place, however and sat in the hot noon sunshine quietly melting. My phone didn’t like it either. I got a message saying that the phone was getting hot and that certain things wouldn’t work, or work slower, until it cooled down! So I spent the rest of the time at the café with my phone held beneath the table away from direct sunlight. Goodness knows what people nearby thought I was watching with my phone conspicuously hidden from view like that. (Just to put your minds at rest, I was reading Josh Widdicombe’s autobiography)
The rest of the journey back to my car in Shirley was uneventful, and after loading the bike, I had a very easy journey home on relatively quiet motorways.
