Round and Round We Go...

"Polesworth Abbey!"
It was one of those moments when a phrase from the past suddenly arrives in the present.

A few weeks ago my fellow explorer advised me that Polesworth Abbey was recommended as a place well worth a visit. We googled and discovered that it wasn't open on a Monday. We resolved to visit on a Friday, but we were in no hurry. After all, it looks as if it has been there a few hundred years, and doesn't appear to be in imminent danger of collapse!

Friday's forecast was not promising - brightish earlier with rain setting in later.  Given the recent melting snow, anywhere outdoorsy would need decent footpaths. However, before we went anywhere I had to make the bed for incoming guests, and remove any stray airers. The theory of having a spare room is great. The reality is that it gets used, and has to be transformed to look relatively unused when visitors are expected!

We had visited both Solihull and Worcester recently, so we needed somewhere other than shops to visit. It was at this point I remembered Polesworth Abbey. Just outside the village was a tall post visible from the M42. We had the vague idea that we might be able to find out the precise location of this mysterious landmark on the same jaunt - weather permitting.

Off we went, up the M42, which was busy with traffic including heavy lorries avoiding the roadworks on the M6. We turned off the M42 at J10, onto Watling Street, and then into the village of Dordon, which is generously littered with speed humps. Dordon isn't like the typical Midlands villages I am used to, with a smattering of detached bungalows, a few larger houses and ex-council houses transformed by money into desirable residences.  Instead, small terraced houses lined one side of the main street, with newer developments opposite.
"Of course! It is a mining village!"
"Coal? Here?" replied my chauffeur, with surprise.
"Oh yes, there was quite a bit of mining in North Warwickshire. I had forgotten!"
Dordon merges into Polesworth, with just a street sign as the demarcation point. Locals are probably very aware of the difference, as Polesworth feels as if it evolved far more gradually than the adjoining village. We spotted the Abbey close to the river, and drove past the entrance looking for parking. I spot large black cars outside the church.
"Oops! There is a funeral on!"
"You sure?
"Positive! Let us go and find the post on the hill and then have lunch." I google pole on hill Polesworth.
"It looks to be in Pooley Country Park."
"We passed a sign for that earlier."
The Satnav is reset. It tells us to continue along the current road. We head away from the village.



If you regularly travel along the M42/A42 there are certain things you notice. One is the pole on the hill surrounded by trees.
The second is a large aerial, which from a distance looks like a gigantic tree, but closer to appears to be more like a pyramid.
The third is the church above the quarry at Breedon on the Hill.

To the KHT's delight, we passed right by the large aerial, which she calls 'the electric tree', before the sat nav took us back on to the M42...










We head west on the M42, towards the pole on the hill. As we pass by the satnav proudly announces
"You have now reached your destination."
Well, THAT was helpful, not!

We leave the M42 at J10, again, and turn back onto Watling Street, and turn off at Dordon,
Did I mention the speed humps? Dordon has speed humps. Lots of them...
We follow the signs we saw earlier to Pooley Country Park, which is situated next to an industrial park.

On a weekday during term time, the park is almost deserted.
The cafe is closed.
The toilets are open Phew!
And flush. Phew!
But there is no water from the taps. BOO!
We pay for parking (once we find the pay machine), examine the map and head off in search of the 'Golden Tower of Leaves'.
The footpath takes us under the M42, next to the canal. We opt for the longer route, winding around the hill towards the pole.



Silhouetted against the sky it looks dark and mysterious, but as we turn and face the tower, it glows golden, despite the lack of sun.





















In typical foolhardy fashion, we opt for the quicker way down. Walking boots prove to be superior to wellies. After a visit to a nearby Costa, we return to the Abbey, via J10, Watling street, Dordon and the speed humps.

The funeral was over, as the flowers by the war memorial testified. However, a frantic spring clean is now in progress, with feather dusters, vacuums and buckets and marigolds.  Some items were covered over with purple cloth, as it was Lent. The small army of cleaners urged us to return on a quieter day after Lent, when everything would be uncovered and it would not be such a hive of frantic activity.












There were items I would have liked to have been able to stop and ponder over, but the ladies were busy ahead of Mothering Sunday service in a few days time, so we left them to their labour of love and headed home, just as it started to rain.


Mindful of the busyness of the M42 on the way, some bright spark suggested that took the non-motorway route home. However, instead of taking us down the A446, the satnav decided to take us through the heart of Birmingham, past the infamous Spitfire Roundabout. It is rarely good news when that hoves into view!










Sometimes, the route you travel is not the one you expect to take, but it is still interesting, nevertheless, even in the rain!