Chippenham and beyond

A fortnight ago saw us heading back to Chippenham again after an absence of some months. None of this messing about with scenic routes and the A4 on this occasion, rather M25 then M4, all the way to junction 17, just north of our destination.

A break somewhere along the way, during which I was able to admire the gaming facilities, complete with various devices to stop children getting in. On this occasion, just one maintenance man and one worker on his break stolidly feeding a coin machine. Not something I have ever found terribly exciting, although just to be sociable I used to do a bit of it when I was around 17 or 18. In those days one had long debates about how exactly to pull the handle - a long, mechanical handle rather than a boring red button - to get the desired results. 

We also passed a van from Rotork, a company with which I got acquainted in my days as a document manager, running with a product known as Panagon when I last saw it, from a company which was subsequently gobbled up by IBM. I thought that Rotork's main line of business was actuators for large valves, actuators which could be worked remotely, without needing to send a man and a van to do it. A big and expensive, remotely operated tap, big and expensive enough that you wanted a document manager to look after all its documentation. Red in the snap above. But a quick peek at reference 3 suggests that there is rather more to Rotork than taps. A pleasing reminder that here we can still make stuff here in the UK. There is more to us than people moving money around and people writing computer games.

Checked into the Angel to find that their bedside lockers were big enough to contain one's wallet, telephone and keys. Best Western and a great improvement on the Travelodge niche noticed at reference 2.

Out in the evening to the 'Rising Sun', up Bowden Hill, just to the east of Lacock, the village which figures in so many costume dramas. While Bowden Hill has its history too, as can be seen from reference 4. The big house is called Bowden Park, originally built for one of the biggest slave operators in Wiltshire, presumably working through Bristol. Then, for a while it was the property of Captain (John Neilson) Gladstone, younger brother of the political William Gladstone. With Wikipedia suggesting that the Gladstones were mixed up in slavery too, despite the liberality of the political one.

And then, more recently, up for sale at £35m or so as can be seen at reference 5. Quite an expensive house, even if one allows £10,000 an acre for 1,500 or so acres that comes with it. More than two square miles of it. 

The captain was also responsible for the rather curious church, built in 1856 to celebrate the arrival of another Gladstone in the world. And which now appears to be in the hands of the heritage people. No clear whether it is still open for ecclesiastical business.

When we arrived at nearby the 'Rising Sun' it was clear that it provided very fine views of the setting sun and the bar man assured us that it did quite well with the rising sun in the morning too. I think the sun is behind the tree right in the snap above - in which it looks likely that they do very well of a summer evening.

Later on, there was a half moon, looking much higher than the 9° reported for this day by the moondatetime website: perhaps the eye gets confused about altitude by being on a hill when it is dark and there is not much contrast at the horizon. In any event, waxing to the left of the set sun. A moon which I had not seen for a bit.

However, it was not a summer evening, and we were put in the sun lounge, quite cool on arrival but we soon warmed up. Quite an elaborate sun lounge by the standards of our road back in Epsom.

The wine we selected for this purpose had gone missing, but we were offered this one instead, which did rather well. A 2018 Mâcon Chardonnay from the people at reference 6. Took me a while to run our wine down, but it turned out to be one of their cheaper wines, to be had online for 19 euros - except that it is listed as unavailable. I forget what we paid, but I don't think that it was as much as the usual three times as much.

To start I took some spiced up fat pork. Not very healthy, but not bad. I had thought it a speciality of the house, so I was amused to find it on the menu of another establishment a few days later. So the truck from Bidfood rather than speciality!

I thought about steak, not something I have very often these days, but in the end settled for chicken, which turned out well. With the pile in the middle concealing a very decent potion of greens, I think kale. I seem to be scoring decent greens more often of late in places of this sort, which is good news. They have been missing for far too long.

We have noticed that most pub grub menus include dessert called sticky toffee pudding, to which I had never been attracted. But on this occasion we thought we would give it a go, with two between the three of us - and it was rather better than I was expecting, if a little sweet. One needed the ice cream - calorific and sweet though it is in its own right - to take the edge of the sweetness. Perhaps the ice anaesthetises the tongue.

The menu offered some Somerset apple brandy, which I took to be something like Calavados. Sadly, they did not have any of that, but they did have some local brandy, over strength as I recall and good.

Back at the hotel, we were pleased to find that neither the room nor the bed overheated during the night. For once, just right.

Coming out to collect the car, the steelwork at the end of the new building at the back looked interesting in the morning light. Steelwork which would qualify as art if it could be detached from the building and erected on a plinth in a park. Last noticed at reference 7. The collapsing wall noticed on that occasion had been repaired in the interval.

Some more discussion about the route. Back to the M4 or down to the A303? We allowed ourselves to be swayed by talk of roadworks on the way to the M4 and opted for working our way south through a succession of old market towns: Melksham, Trowbridge, Frome, Shepton Mallet. Which turned out to be a mistake: it took a long time and was tiring. With the result that BH took over when we hit the A303, taking us to a pit stop at Buckfast Abbey, the working monastery which also functions as a major attraction, a major draw in that part of Devon, twenty five miles a south west of Exeter.

From there to our cottage - a converted shed of some sort - at Holne. Marked by the orange spot in the snap above. With the white lines below being the roof of the sun lounge. BH computes that it our eleventh visit to this particular shed, so something must be right about it! The relatively new barn next to the shed was full, on this occasion, with military vehicles from the second world war, complete with a father and son team of enthusiasts. We learned that a large number of such people will be heading to Normandy next year for the anniversary of the D-day landings, a large enough number for several ferries to be chartered especially for the purpose.

The next day, the Sunday, was designated a day of rest, and we thought a gentle stroll around Venford Reservoir would be a suitable activity for the morning. To find that, for some reason, they have decided to fell the band of trees around the reservoir and that there is no access for the duration. I thought at first that South West Water was strapped for cash and that cutting whatever timber it could lay its hands on was a way of turning a quick buck. Never mind the global warming, just feel the bank balance. Then I thought that there might be some more complicated, more respectable reason, but, if there is one, it is not to be found at reference 8.

The view down the hill from the top of the drive

We took a stroll in the lane by our cottage instead. The wrong way round in that it was down hill out and up hill home - but we managed. Despite a fair amount of popping in my ears - or perhaps in my tubes. With the serious business of our visit to the west country set to start the following day.

PS 1: we had seen no registration plates in the 30's or the 40's during the drive down to Chippenham. Not many in the 50's. Some consolation on the form of a No.44 the day following.

PS 2: this morning I notice a Midsomer Norton to the north of Shepton Mallet. The source of the name of the famous television series?

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/06/a-stroll-in-chippenham.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/09/orchard-park.html.

Reference 3: https://www.rotork.com/en.

Reference 4: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bowden_Hill.

Reference 5: https://www.mansionglobal.com/articles/english-estate-on-1450-acres-asks-for-35-million-220259.

Reference 6: www.guillot-broux.com.

Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/faketown.html.

Reference 8: https://www.swlakestrust.org.uk/venford.