I’M BEING picked up to go to Heathrow at 6am, so here’s the traditional roll-call of the great people who made my trip so enjoyable: mum and dad for putting me up, doing the laundry, and especially to mum for letting me borrow her brand-new car and put 650 miles on it; Paul for picking me up at the airport and taking me back tomorrow; Lou for making a chocolate cake just like mum used to; Flynn and Becky for the Indian meal; James, Helen, Sarah and Mark for the Tibetan meal, the Forest walk, Broome Farm, and brekkies at Weatherspoons; […]
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WHAT should a group of good-looking young(ish) people do in the Forest of Dean on a Saturday morning? Well I don’t know what they got up to, but me, James, Mark, Helen and Sarah decided to try walking the four-mile Sculpture Trail as it would be good exercise for us and good practice for the local paramedics when they were called out to give me emergency medical treatment after the first 200 yards. Above, Mark and Sarah (not pictured in that order) check out the map while trying to ignore the words “is crap” scrawled in mud next to “Trail”. Note: […] ONE person in particular was very happy to see me, so happy in fact that she very kindly woke me up by shouting “UNCLE MUT!” in my ear when I dozed off during the FA Cup Final. The flight home was great — my evil plan of downing two sleeping tablets and a can of lager meant I fell asleep over Wyoming and woke up over Coventry. The only downers are that Ev’s not here and the weather’s crap. Right, I’m off to bed. More photos and other crap […] ST HELEN’S was originally a wooden Saxon building pre-dating the Norman invasion of 1066. It was rebuilt in 1238 and the tower in 1290, although the spire is a reproduction made in 865. It’s a beautiful church in an expansive graveyard, some of the graves dating back to 1700.
The north transept contains the Lamer Chapel, the part reserved for local landowners the Garrard family. The main part is the astonishing memorial to the Garrards: <p style=“text-align: […]AS I SIT here in another desperate attempt to not pack my case it just remains for me say thanks to… Mum and dad for putting me up, letting me use their car, doing my laundry and generally being great; Lou for showing me around her great house and bringing Sian over; Paul for the lift back from Heathrow; James, Helen, Flynn, Becky and Sarah for the Indian meals and brekkies at Weatherspoons; James and Sarah for the walk up May Hill; Becky for organising Flynn’s splendid surprise early 40th birthday shenanigans and for somehow keeping it quiet for the best part […] IT MIGHT seem a bit odd to take a 330-mile round trip to visit the grave of someone I never knew, but yesterday I did just that. I headed to Wheathampstead in Hertfordshire to see the resting place of Apsley Cherry-Garrard, an Antarctic explorer who I admire. Finding his grave proved a problem as I’d only seen photos of what I thought was a gravestone, which is actually a plinth bearing a memorial cross. When I realised I’d walked past it about seven times I couldn’t believe it. “Found you,” I said for some reason. It just seemed apt. Cherry’s father, mother and sister […] I’VE WANTED to take pics of these ruined warehouses in Gloucester Quay for about four years and finally got off my backside and went. Most of the warehouses in the area have been turned into antique shops or yuppie flats, but the ones nearest the bridge have yet to be converted or […] AFTER gorging ourselves silly on Chinese food at Flynn’s Surprise Early 40th Birthday Shindig, James, Sarah and me headed off into the wilds of Gloucestershireland to go exploring. Obviously thinking that I needed a heart attack as well as some exercise, ’twas decided that we should climb May Hill, a 971ft summit which affords excellent views to those not groping at their chests and wondering if an ambulance could make it to the top in time. But it was worth the gasping and pathetic excuses for rest breaks as the sunset was mind-buggeringly beautiful. Sarah, me and James shadowed on May Hill’s […] RATHER than let the rest of my Ledbury pics languish in the limbo known as EXTERNAL DRIVE (G:), I’ll put them up here as poor compensation for not doing anything today. […] AFTER Ledbury we headed up a series of B roads to Much Wenlock, a Shropshire town that’s been around since 1AD. Much Wenlock is the site of Wenlock Priory, which was founded in 680AD and trashed in 1540. Apart from being a very pretty English village, Much Wenlock’s other claim to fame is that it’s the birthplace of Dr William Penny Brookes, who founded the Wenlock Olympian Society in 1860 and whose discussions with Baron Pierre de Coubertin led to the setting up of the International Olympic Committee in 1894. We found the priory easily thanks to Blunty’s GPS (he hasn’t named his), handed over our […] |
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